Saturday, December 26, 2009
How will I remember you, Misty?
The stress of a kennel situation is unbelievable. As a dog you are surrounded by dogs that are scared, confused, angry, frustrated, depressed and trapped. You aren’t allowed toys because you might swallow them and choke or get intestinal problems. If you are lucky, you get out once a day. You never know who will pass you over or decide to notice that you are alive and desperate, that you need someone to see you. And all you can do is sit, wait, and hope.
Hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month of this...and no relief in sight. How much faith does a dog have to have before he or she can’t take it any more? How many days and months before a good dog will start to break?
And when is it a mercy to let the dog go?
I am hoping and praying that within the next 2 days, these memories will be experiences someone new will be having with my baby-girl Misty in a safe, healing, loving forever home or foster, and not my eulogy for a dog that broke my heart:
How she was so scared to lie down and enjoy a treat in my car, but trusted me enough to climb in, keeping her eyes on me the whole time. Then, in the middle of smacking down, stopped to give me a lick on the face.
How she didn’t even know what to do with a tennis ball but today, discovered the joy of chasing and catching a bouncing object. And let me take it out of her mouth to throw back in the air and catch again.
How she ran gentle zoomies around the pen, then came to flop over on her back with her head in my lap while the two of us soaked in the rare winter sunshine.
How she became a little Avea copycat during Badrap training. Avea found a stick to chomp on, so Misty found a twig to chew. Avea sat in Aaron’s lap, so Misty climbed into mine. Avea got a treat, so Misty looked to me expectantly.
How quickly she learned new things, sitting at street corners before crossing with me.
How she loved going into George and selecting special treats, sitting for freebies at the counter and snuffling the cat goodies.
How I only had to correct her once, then she immediately knew not to pull while going down stairs - even looking back at me to make sure I was okay.
And how, when I sat down to weep after finding out how little time she has left, she tried to hug me; and licked the tears from my face.