January 17, 2006
It goes a little like this.
I take a shower and get in the car. I programme Dog's Trust in Newbury into the GPS and I drive, the radio off, the sun breaking through the winter rains over Berkshire's rolling hills. The heater is on in the car and I am wearing a hat pulled down low. When I get to Dog's Trust, I find it's an enormous expanded barn in the middle of nowhere.
I go in and fill out an application. As we haven't moved yet and our landlord company is a dirty rat bastard, there's no way we can have a dog until we move. But since the process takes time-they come to your house to check out your situation, they check the progress with the dogs-I think starting now is a good idea. We are the penultimate household-we'll have a huge house and a yard that's a fifth of an acre, all fenced in, with an enormous field just outside of our house for longer walks and games of fetch. I've had dogs all of my life, even "difficult" breeds, and have trained them before. It will be an only dog, and the only requirement we have is that the dog must like cats (as much as I want a dog, my girls have to come first. Since they were raised with a dog, I'm not worried about their part-they'll be pissed off, but I think they'll recover from that.)
The place is heartbreaking-throughout the place are older dogs, too old to adopt, who sleep on dog beds and look at you with kind eyes. They are not in the kennels or cages but take a small space in the hallway, under a bench, behind the desk. As they're too old to adopt the center keeps them until they pass away or have to be put down, and they are kind and gentle residents who seem so soft and grateful to finally have a place to call their own.
Dog's Trust is kind and friendly but they are a charity, and as such rely on donations (please, please consider donating. Please. That's my only plea for money, and it's not for me.) As Dog's Trust shelters are no-kill shelters, they take care of the dogs until they can find a home for them, and many of the little darlings were strays found lost and wandering, some were abused, some were abandoned, some just haven't found the right person that wants to love them as much as they want to love back. They work hard with the ones that were beaten, neglected, or have trust issues, working with them to teach them that not all people are bad, that sometimes the hand that reaches out is done so in kindness. Dog's Trust homes are being re-built with more lavish facilities, but for now it's the same as you'd expect at a shelter-rows and rows of metal bars and concrete. The English rain meant that everything was wet and cold, including the dogs.
I don't fault Dog's Trust one bit-at least they're trying. Most of the dogs had worn out toys and even though staff had come by to pick up their blankets out of the rain, the blankets were worse for wear and the wind blew the cold rain all over the place anyway. It was freezing cold outside, and the concrete was soaked through. I walked through the rows, reading up the stats for the dogs that hang on the outside of each cage. Even though there were a number of dogs whose dossiers said they couldn't be with cats (the center has a resident cat that can seriously hold his own. They let the dog out near the cat, and if the dog starts to chase the cat then the dog gets stricken off for homes with cats.) my fingers went through the bars to pet them all. With soft whimpering and pleading eyes, each dog wanted to get out of the rain, to have a house where someone would just love them and throw a fucking ball for them from time to time. Some of these dogs are trying to overcome the horrible things that have happened to them, to just have a second chance.
And I'm a huge believer in the idea that we all can have a second chance.
I spent an hour there, going from cage to cage and petting the owners of the wagging tails.
She was a sweetie, who nabbed my heart. She was painfully thin and extremely shy, but you could see in her eyes that all she wanted was to be on the other side of the bars and leaning against you.
He was a center-described cheeky chap. A nice Russell, and even though he was too small and a cat-chaser, he was good company.
But my heart was sold when I met Reggie. He was 5, and had been there for a while. He had a bright happy personality, isn't a cat chaser, and is housetrained. Apparently, he loves long walks and playing fetch. I looked at him and was hit by a strong feeling, an image of him and I going through obedience training. I would look down at him and say, "Hey babe. Are we ready to give this a try?". And in my image, he looked up at me, tail wagging, bright brown eyes grinning, and with a soft chuff he confirmed that we could do it.
When I reached through the bars to stroke his face he held very, very still, as though the action was something that he had to pay complete attention to. His tail went at 100 mph. He spent the entire time I was kneeling in front of his cage trying to push his body on the other side of the bars, to be on the other side with me.
I think I'm in love. But I am not kidding myself that I can have him now, we have to move first. So I'll go back often and spend time with him, and if he gets adopted I will be happy and sad. I hope for Angus to meet him, and if he loves him too, maybe we can see about being a family.
And when I go back, I'm going with toys and blankets.
Because it's not ok for them to be cold and wet, when the only thing they've done wrong is not be in the right place at the right time to find the right person to love them.
I know how that feels.
-H.
PS-I lied. Please, once more, if you find you have an extra $5 then consider winging it towards Dog's Trust. They're the kindest people who are simply trying to give a dog another chance. Spread the word, please-there are what, 6 million blogs? If we all gave a buck or two, wouldn't that mean that there would be no need for cold wet concrete?
Posted by: Everydaystranger at
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