A very elusive Mis Heidi
A very troubled Miss Heidi
Miss Heidi upon her arrivalSaving Miss Heidi
I am not certain whether I believe in fate but it really doesn’t matter. Several months after the passing of Polly Anna, our beloved dog, a friend and a part of the family for over ten years, we decided to find another dog with the help of a no kill center. The fist dog we found was adopted out before we could request her. Then there was Rose, a hound mix, said to be gentle and loving. A red Shepard of mixed breed of a gentle nature was also considered. But in the meantime on July 13, 2009 our youngest daughter e-mailed us that she had located a dog at the pound in a town not far away. She also sent a couple of photographs. The first photo was haunting to say the least, an Australian Shepard of mixed blood. She lay cowering looking directly up at the camera, fear and uncertainty bright in her eyes. That image touched me deeply. My wife and I both agreed to immediately go to her and take her away from the place that would ultimately bring about her demise.
There was never any question about whether or not to adopt Heidi, however; perhaps it would have been wise to do so, for what we found was a creature that had been badly abused, completely untrusting of humans, a cowering, terrified animal that had lost so much in her year of life. She was dirty, thin and wet and was on the top of the list to be euthanized in a couple of days. Only through the compassion of a woman there who posted her photos on line in hope of finding someone to adopt her was she still alive. Three other dogs Heidi was with had already been put down.
“She is a special needs dog,” the woman informed us.
To some people, this information would have prompted a hasty retreat from Heidi, to leave her behind to face her unjust fate alone without ever knowing a gentle hand and loving care.
Heidi was wrestled to the floor and a harness put on her and carried cowering to our car and put in the back seat and me, a stranger got in beside her. Shaking violently she retreated to the far side of the car, terror shinning in her eyes, lay watching me. She vomited spilling the contents of her stomach across the seat and when I reached out to clean up the mess she tried desperately to get away from me. She never tried to bite, never growled or in anyway tried to defend herself. Those beautiful brown eyes of hers never revealed hatred, only fear.
When at last we reached home, I carefully lifted her from the car and whether or not she knew, probably not, Heidi was safe at last. The saving of Heidi was not yet complete, for even as I speak, the process is ongoing and will continue for an indefinite time.
Heidi was treated for worms in her digestive system and heart worms and spayed and that prolonged her wildness a bit, but somewhere back during the year of her life, I believe a woman has mistreated Heidi for she runs away from my wife, but this is slowly changing. She also runs from me, but has begun to trust me more and more. She loves cheese, tiny bits of it is her reward for coming to me. She does not like to be touched on her hips and only tolerates touching her head. She likes to be scratched on her chest and has leaned to shake hands with me, about 40 percent of the time. Today I let her go walking with me outside the yard, of course with a chain around her neck, gently used. It was a touching experience for me, observing her discovering a new world and in her beautiful eyes I saw for the first time a bit of trust and affection for me. Time will still the fear in her hopefully push it back deep in her mind and perhaps let her forget. But I must be patient and understanding of her behavior when she runs or is fearful for no apparent reason. I look forward to the time when she willingly comes and sits down beside me to be petted. Adios
I am not certain whether I believe in fate but it really doesn’t matter. Several months after the passing of Polly Anna, our beloved dog, a friend and a part of the family for over ten years, we decided to find another dog with the help of a no kill center. The fist dog we found was adopted out before we could request her. Then there was Rose, a hound mix, said to be gentle and loving. A red Shepard of mixed breed of a gentle nature was also considered. But in the meantime on July 13, 2009 our youngest daughter e-mailed us that she had located a dog at the pound in a town not far away. She also sent a couple of photographs. The first photo was haunting to say the least, an Australian Shepard of mixed blood. She lay cowering looking directly up at the camera, fear and uncertainty bright in her eyes. That image touched me deeply. My wife and I both agreed to immediately go to her and take her away from the place that would ultimately bring about her demise.
There was never any question about whether or not to adopt Heidi, however; perhaps it would have been wise to do so, for what we found was a creature that had been badly abused, completely untrusting of humans, a cowering, terrified animal that had lost so much in her year of life. She was dirty, thin and wet and was on the top of the list to be euthanized in a couple of days. Only through the compassion of a woman there who posted her photos on line in hope of finding someone to adopt her was she still alive. Three other dogs Heidi was with had already been put down.
“She is a special needs dog,” the woman informed us.
To some people, this information would have prompted a hasty retreat from Heidi, to leave her behind to face her unjust fate alone without ever knowing a gentle hand and loving care.
Heidi was wrestled to the floor and a harness put on her and carried cowering to our car and put in the back seat and me, a stranger got in beside her. Shaking violently she retreated to the far side of the car, terror shinning in her eyes, lay watching me. She vomited spilling the contents of her stomach across the seat and when I reached out to clean up the mess she tried desperately to get away from me. She never tried to bite, never growled or in anyway tried to defend herself. Those beautiful brown eyes of hers never revealed hatred, only fear.
When at last we reached home, I carefully lifted her from the car and whether or not she knew, probably not, Heidi was safe at last. The saving of Heidi was not yet complete, for even as I speak, the process is ongoing and will continue for an indefinite time.
Heidi was treated for worms in her digestive system and heart worms and spayed and that prolonged her wildness a bit, but somewhere back during the year of her life, I believe a woman has mistreated Heidi for she runs away from my wife, but this is slowly changing. She also runs from me, but has begun to trust me more and more. She loves cheese, tiny bits of it is her reward for coming to me. She does not like to be touched on her hips and only tolerates touching her head. She likes to be scratched on her chest and has leaned to shake hands with me, about 40 percent of the time. Today I let her go walking with me outside the yard, of course with a chain around her neck, gently used. It was a touching experience for me, observing her discovering a new world and in her beautiful eyes I saw for the first time a bit of trust and affection for me. Time will still the fear in her hopefully push it back deep in her mind and perhaps let her forget. But I must be patient and understanding of her behavior when she runs or is fearful for no apparent reason. I look forward to the time when she willingly comes and sits down beside me to be petted. Adios
1 comment:
That time of complete surrender, for Heidi, will come. It may not be today, but it will be tomorrow. I can almost promise. It is a good thing you have done.
TJ
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