The Old Dog
"12-year-old female Border Collie. Her time is nearly up. Very loving, gives kisses freely. Somebody please help this dog."
I read that and it got to me. For what reason did a loving, 12-year-old Border Collie end up in a shelter? Well.... It wasn't something that I could concentrate on because we can't take the dog into our rescue. We had no room. As always; there is no room. I shook my head sadly but did not delete the post. She was a long way from here. Maybe there was a rescuer nearer that would take her, or she would get adopted..... but she's 12 years old. It can be very hard to find a home for a dog that old - and there are a lot of younger ones who need our help just as badly, who would be easier to place. We would probably have her for a long time while others were put down waiting to come into rescue.
But its not her fault she's 12 and ended up in a shelter. Age should not be a penalty. I turned my computer off. I couldn't think about it. We had no room for another dog of any age right now. Instead, I searched for ways to take this dog into rescue; to find someone who could help but met without success.
And that night my sleep was ruined by an old dog that I had never met. In my dreams I saw a slightly heavy-bodied but quiet and gentle dog, sitting in the middle of a gray concrete floor surrounded by a woven wire kennel. All around her were anxious, stressed dogs that paced, panted and barked for somebody to come and get them.
The old Border Collie sat there quietly trying to shut out the sounds and motion about her. Her tired head hung a bit low. In my sleep, she looked at my soul with patient eyes and spoke to me. "Please...come."
We had no room - and I pushed this dog out of my mind for a week as I kept busy with other aspects of the rescue, but still looked for ways to get this old dog out of the shelter. When night came and I fell asleep, the old dog was there sitting quietly in the kennel, waiting for me to fall asleep.
"Please... come."
In the second week another message appeared on my computer. "Very sweet and loving Border Collie. Gives kisses freely. Please somebody save her. She deserves better than to spent her last days in a shelter."
I was beginning to dread going to bed because the old dog would be there waiting for me, staring at me.... wouldn't leave me alone. I tossed and turned in my warm and comfortable bed, and the old dog laid down on the hard concrete floor panting lightly; watching me in my dreams as I slept.
"Please... come."
"We have no room for you, old one."
"Yes you do. I will stay at your home. I'm a good dog. I won't cause trouble. Please... come."
"You're very far away and I work every day. I can't come to get you, old one."
"Send someone. I am very good in the car. Please... come for me."
"My husband doesn't want another foster dog in the house."
"He will like me. I'm a good dog. You'll see. Please... come get me."
"OK.... I will talk to him."
"So will I."
And by chance, Melissa ended up driving down to pick up two dogs, and was destined to pass very near the shelter where the old Border Collie waited. On her way back, she stopped at the shelter and brought the old one with her.
"I got the old dog - and guess what. She's a he! He's very sweet and loving. He rides extremely well in the car. He sat there with his head on my shoulder nearly the whole way, wanted to be petted. You should see all the ticking on his feet. Can you pick him up from my house after work?"
He had no collar, no leash, no identification. He was a stray. He walked into my house, looked around, and smiled up at me as though he knew me. A slow patient wag of the tail and that gentle smile told me he was happy to be here. His amber eyes were sunken into his head and they looked like the eyes of a dog who had been stressed for a long time. He was tired and he desperately needed to sleep. I led him to the crate that would be his and he understood. Without a sound, he walked into the crate, circled twice and laid down to rest. It was the first time in many weeks he would be sleeping on a thick wool blanket and in a quiet place. The amber eyes disappeared behind heavy eyelids in peaceful sleep.
And I slept peacefully too.
Old Dog was still tired the next morning but he greeted me with tail thumping against the side of his crate. For a brief instant, a look of uncertainty passed over his face. The tail slowed and his head dropped just slightly. He was waiting for a response from me.
"Hi Old Dog!" I whispered and smiled. "And did you sleep well last night?' Thump thump thump. He let out a small sigh of relief. He had not misjudged.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this fella, but you have to go to the vet today. There are no records of any kind on you, and you will have to have all your vaccinations. You'll get a physical exam and a microchip too. I'm glad that you don't have kennel cough or fleas."
I stepped back and looked at the old dog. He stood patiently still; not intent on exploring this new place. He seemed to understand that I was inspecting him. He turned slightly to show me the length of his body and looked up at me again. Hmmm...he has done this before. Old Dog had a beautiful coat. It was healthy and free of matts. His nails had been cared for, his ears were clean, his teeth were just slightly in need of cleaning, his body weight was perfect for him. He appeared to be in excellent health. I marveled that this old dog would allow me to handle him without the slightest bit of nervousness on his part. He actually seemed to enjoy the inspection. He was used to being fussed over. Somebody had taken very good care of this old dog - and then he had ended up in the shelter.
"What happened to you, Old Dog?"
Old Dog immediately fit in. He behaved like he had been in my house all his life. Obviously he was not a dog that had been tied to a tree or doghouse in the backyard. He was house trained and crate trained. He was polite and attentive.
I dug into the "dog drawer" and pulled out KC's light blue collar. It was the first collar that I had put on him when he had arrived at my house as an emaciated stray with dry brittle fur. The worry on KC's face and his desperate need to be held and loved, had melted my heart. KC had loved this blue collar. When I would remove it from him, he would slink and cower as he sought to find a safe corner. But when the collar was on him again, his fears vanished. Eventually, when KC had overcome this fear, I had replaced the blue collar for a lovely dark red woven one as a symbol of his success. And the old blue collar reminded me of "the before days."
I stood with the light blue collar in my hand, gentle rotating it and feeling every surface of the closed loop. Closing my eyes, I remembered the trip to the veterinary hospital when KC had his total hip replacement. This light blue collar had been removed and KC thought I had taken him to a shelter. He thought I didn't love him enough to keep him. I remembered my heart breaking for him because I couldn't explain to him that I would be coming back in a few days to get him again after his surgery. He had turned his head away sadly and wouldn't look at me anymore. I had cried on the way home, feeling sorry for KC. But the joy on his face when I pulled the collar from my pocket on the day I picked him up!
And now the collar was once again in my hand. I was about to put it on another stray; another dog with no name. When Old Dog would eventually leave my home to live with his new owners, he would be wearing this light blue collar - and it was possible that I would never see this old dog or the blue collar again. I was torn about putting it on him. The collar represented a lot of patient love, and the struggles that KC had to overcome. It was a blue badge that spoke to me of courage and hope, and of winning KC's trust. Should I run down to the store and buy a different collar for this old dog?........ no. KC didn't need this collar anymore. He would never wear it again. And Old Dog had nothing to wear.
I held the collar out to Old Dog. He understood, stretched his head out to receive it, and a happy smile spread over his face. All the while I had stood there thinking about giving it to him, he had been silently sitting in front of me, watching me and hoping that I would. He wanted to wear the collar! He wanted to belong to somebody again.
"Do you have to go outside?" Old Dog trotted to the back door and waited for me to open it. Somebody had spent time talking to this dog. He knew a routine. I hooked a leash to him and we went out for a walk. Old Dog stepped hesitantly at first. Where was I taking him? Was I taking him away?
"Heel." A look of confidence returned and Old Dog put his head up proudly. It had been awhile since he had heard that word. But he understood what it meant and he walked gracefully by my side. It was good to hear familiar words again.
Somebody had trained this dog well - and then he had ended up in a shelter.
"Tip... Sam... Jack... Fido... Ring... Buster... Sky... .Ben... Mac... Doone... .ahhh... Al... Bob?"
Nothing. The Old Dog walked along beside me with his ears nearly touching at the back of his head. He wore a large smile on his face and was very intend on heeling. The happiness radiated from him. How wonderful to be away from the shelter and out for a lovely walk. Old Dog ignored the passing cars, running kids and bicycles. His ears pricked as a squirrel raced up a tree - but Old Dog knew to stay with me. He smiled: "Did you see it?"
"Yes, Old Dog. I saw the squirrel. You're such a good boy, aren't you."
He wagged his tail. And each time I told him he was a good boy, a sad kind of happiness crossed his face. He had heard these words before. Was he remembering someone else?
"Mike... Spot... Fee... Bart... Bear... Jim... Pi... Ajax... Ralph... Bill... Max... Blackie... Homer... ?"
Still nothing. Nearly 100 names later, I still hadn't stumbled onto the Old Dog's name. He would stand there smiling at me, knowing that I was talking to him. It was as though he was saying: "Nope. That's not it. Nope, that isn't it either."
I finally gave up and decided to call him Murphy. But the Old Dog didn't care for the name. I spent the next three days trying to teach him a new name but Old Dog would have nothing to do with Murphy. I could not let him off his leash because he was unaware that I was speaking to him unless he was looking directly at me. For a brief instant I considered the possibility that he was deaf. But no, he could hear the kibble falling into his dish.
And each evening, the Old Dog would become restless. He sat very still before me and would lay a paw on my lap. What was he trying to tell me? All his needs had been met - except for that one big need. He wanted his owner to come and get him. Old Dog would pant and stare keenly at me. He would nudge my hand and smile at me. He would lay his head in my hands and look at me in the most pitiful manner. What did Old Dog want? What was he trying to tell me? I wished that I could read his mind or that we could speak the same language.
I was compelled to drop to my knees. I held my hands out to Old Dog and he walked into my arms. He buried his face against my neck and let out a sigh. I could feel his head grow heavy as his whole body became very still and relaxed. Old Dog had wanted to be cuddled. He wanted somebody to hold him. For the longest time he stood leaning into me with his head tight to my cheek. I heard the sadness in each breath. If a dog can cry quietly, Old Dog had finally gotten to the place where he was mourning his loses. He wanted comforting and someone to hold him while he mourned. Old Dog understood he was never going to see his master again.
I held him tight and gently patted his side. It seemed to help. Finally he looked up at me with his sober amber colored eyes and gave me one of his kisses. His eyes were trying to tell me something, and it was an important thing he wanted me to know - but I could not understand what he was saying to me. "Old Dog....I'm sorry."
"Grace. Its Melissa," the voice said over the phone. "Lois has decided she would like to adopt the old dog. But she wants to know if we would be willing to meet her halfway. I can take Murphy and meet her. I know you have to work, and I don't mind making the trip with Murphy."
"Thanks Melissa, but I think that I would like to make the trip. Lois might have some questions about Murphy and since he's been with me, I think I would be easiest for me to answer them for her." I looked down at Old Dog and suddenly felt depressed. Old Dog was getting adopted. Why did I feel so sad about it? I should be happy for Old Dog. He would finally have a place of his own again.
I spent the evening getting all his papers ready. I brushed him out and trimmed his dew claws. Then we cuddled and Old Dog got his tummy rub. Old Dog thoroughly enjoyed the quiet time together without realizing that this was my way of saying good-bye to him. Tomorrow we would be taking the long trip to meet Lois. But tonight he was my old dog for the last time. All mine. Tonight I would say good-bye because tomorrow it would be impossible to say it without my heart breaking into little pieces. Looking into Old Dog's gentle eyes, I realized that an old dog was a wonderful thing.
"Old Dog, this is our last day together."
I had had difficulty sleeping. Strange dreams about walking down the sidewalk in an unknown city with Old Dog on a leash beside me. As I looked down at Old Dog, I noticed that my legs had become not my legs but that of a man wearing black jeans. And my shoes were men's shoes. As my hand swung by, it was a man's hand. My hand swung over the Old Dog's head to pet him lovingly, and Old Dog looked up at me with bright happiness.
"Good boy....you're a good boy," the voice softly whispered to Old Dog. It wasn't my voice but a man's voice.
"I'm your good boy, master. I love you. Where have you been, master? I've been waiting for you." Old Dog spoke in my dreams. His eyes sparkled with happiness and he lightly pranced with the joy that traveled down to his feet. He could not take his eyes off me as we walked along. He was so happy.
"Good boy....you're my good boy."
My hand reached out to caress Old Dog's head again - but this time it was my own hand. Old Dog looked up at me startled and he sat down suddenly to stare at me.
"Where did he go?!" Old Dog asked me.
"I don't know, Old Dog. I never saw him.... I'm sorry Old Dog."
Old Dog's head dropped and he slowly exhaled. He rose to his feet like an old dog. His joy had evaporated.
"I am dreaming...." Old Dog said.
"So am I, Old Dog."
That morning, after a lot of fussing around, I hooked Old Dog to a leash and opened the car door. Pallie squeezed out the back door and jumped into the car before I could tell her "no." Ah well....it might be a very good thing for me to have her with me. Old Dog jumped into the jeep also. He was all smiles. I'm sure he thought we were going out to walk the wooded trails again. But the jeep went in the opposite direction and we left town, headed north...way north.
Pallie settled herself comfortably in the front seat, and seeing how relaxed Pallie was, the Old Dog settled down too. But after an hour, he became restless. The distance was too far. Something was different today. The last time he had taken a long drive like this, he had ended up as a stranger in my house. Old Dog laid his head on my shoulder and I reached up to reassure him.
"Yes, we are now a very long way away from your home. But we have found a new home for you, dear. I hope you will be very happy."
By the time I reached our destination, my lower back was fatigued from sitting. I pulled into the parking lot of Burger King and a woman in a dark pink coat called out to me. It was Lois. She looked very alert and slightly nervous. Her eyes darted over to my jeep.
"Hi Lois! Did you just get here?"
"....well, no. I was so excited, that we left kind of early and I guess we've been waiting for quite awhile." She smiled and glanced back at her sister who followed her to my jeep. Lois pointed to my jeep where Pallie stood looking out the back at us.
"Ohh! Look! He's such a beautiful dog! Ohh...."
Old Dog had repositioned himself behind the steering wheel.
"Murphy is sitting in the driver's seat. He drove us here this morning. He's such a smart fella."
"Ohh..." Lois crooned as she peered through the jeep window at Old Dog,"He's so cute! Ohhhh....just look at him....I love him already.
I opened the door and Old Dog calmly hopped out of the jeep. He looked up at Lois and gave her his smile. Lois reached down to him and he lightly licked her fingers. After a few minutes, I put Pallie and Old Dog back into the jeep and we went inside to take care of all the paperwork. I gave Lois all the necessary information that she would need to know.
"Lois, I have no puppy pictures to give you of Murphy. The very best that I can do is tell you how it is that he came to be with me. It was a little paragraph in my email that said 'Gives kisses freely' that got to me and because of it, Murphy will be your dog. Please love him and take care of him like the very special dog that he is."
With paperwork completed, we walked back to the jeep and I let Old Dog out once again.
I knelt on the cold pavement and opened my arms to him. He smiled at me and walked into my
arms, snuggled his head against my neck as I held him tight. How soft and warm his fur is.
He stood very still except for the wide swinging of his tail, and he drank in the warm
feelings and my love that I was sending along with him. I released him and he backed up a
step to gaze into my face. He knew. His eyes were quiet and accepting. He knew this was
good-bye.
"You're a good boy. Make me proud of you," I whispered ever so quietly into his silky soft ear. "Don't forget me....and once in awhile, when you and I are sleeping, come visit me again. Good-bye Old Dog."
Lois opened her car door for Old Dog. He looked back at me one last time and our eyes met once more. He understood, and it was OK with him. Old Dog quietly hopped into the car and the door closed.
-- by Grace Saalsaa,
Great Lakes Border Collie Rescue