Friday, April 07, 2006

Trip down Mugga Lane

The first time I saw his picture I wasn't so sure. I was actually interested in the guy standing next to him, although I was curious about both of them and wanted to know more.

I sent out a couple of emails and made a few phonecalls to get some more opinions, making sure I was doing the right thing - after getting a positive response, I made the phonecall to see if I could find out some more info - it turned out I could come in and meet him that afternoon.

I went in and all three of them were sitting there together - both of the ones I'd looked at seemed perfect and I wanted them both! After spending a little more time with them, it turned out that the one I was originally interested in was quite a bit older than I'd originally thought, making the decision a little easier - we hit it off immediately. But just when it seemed he would be coming home with me right then and there, it turned out there was a bit of a deal going on where they were all planning to go home together. I was told not to worry - I'd get a call tomorrow and maybe he'd come home with me then.

I was a bit upset when I got hom to The Hun - a bit thoughtful, a bit quiet, a bit reflective . When he asked what was wrong, he got the typical 'Oh nothing' - I wasn't really sure what I was thinking - how could I tell him?

I had a bit of late night 'hitting the books' and was getting ready to leave work at lunch when I got the call - he was ready to come home with me! The timing wasn't the best, but I figured I could swing past to meet him and take him back to my parents - no one would be home for a few hours and then I could head back to the Conder house and get on with my reading...

The moment he sat down in the passenger seat and turned to me with his big brown eyes - I was done for - I couldn't control my feelings anymore, I couldn't hold it all back, keep holding it all in - relief, joy, grief, safety and a intense loving bond...

Meet Max - he's the one on the right. Originally, we were looking at the one in the middle (the lady at the pound told us he was 6 and that Max was 9, but she had it the wrong way around).

Somebody decided to move house and hand in their three shih tzus - I've been keeping an eye on all of the dog websites since Tom passed away in February, in an effort to find Elvis a friend to keep him company during the day.

We almost didn't get him - there was a note on the file to avoid splitting them up if possible - the guy had to check something out. Mumsy reckons she saw a note on the file of the eldest dog (on the left) that said she was not to be put down under any circumstances - she also reckons she saw a note with a phone number to call - perhaps a number of an old people's home or somewhere that would take them in if they couldn't find a home. I hope so - the other two have been taken off the pounds website.

The thought of someone just handing their three pets into the pound to be rehomed makes me really angry. It really arcs me up to think that this family has had these three dogs for years (the youngest was six!) and then decides to up and leave without them, or without at the very least finding someone else to look after them. Why not just move house and decide not to take your kids?!! If you're not a dog person, you may not understand, but particularly with these breeds - shih tzu's are total lap dogs - quiet, tame, inside dogs, needing little more than somewhere warm to sleep and nap during the day and someone to scratch behind the ears and rub bellies at nights. They become part of the family - they're always there, they come to greet you and love you unconditionally. How dare you abandon them in pursuit of somewhere else to live?!

Before I'd even strapped him into his little seatbelt harness, I had tears in my eyes - the image of his two friends sitting so close together, shaking and peering as far out of their cage as they could to try and see where their friend was going - it was heartbreaking. But the Gowrie house couldn't take all three - it would break Elvis' heart to be replaced by a whole new family, and we couldn't take the 9 year old - he was acting a lot older than Elvis - rickety and very subdued - we couldn't bring Elvis a new friend and have his new friend die first, or die shortly after Elvis. But the moment the harness clicked into the seatbelt and Max just lay down quietly in the car with a sigh and look up at me, I was bawling like a baby. To think of how he was abandoned, how they'd been there for almost two weeks, how he'd been separated from his friends. And then to realise that Tom was really gone, that this was like sealing the fact that he had passed away. And then back to this poor new dog, how he was was going to fit in, if his new family would give him the love he deserved after being abandoned and almost close to death. And what would happen to his friends? And the 40 or so other dogs that were in there?!

He's only been at the Gowrie house for two nights now - I've been to visit him four times already (on top of the time I spent reading my textbooks after dropping him off there). Thing's aren't going so well - he's trying to work out where he fits into the hierarchy rather than just 'slotting in', so he's getting narky towards Elvis, then getting smacked and then getting confused when I come in unaware, see that my brothers aren't playing with him, and so I pay extra attention to him. They're wary of each other - skirting around each other, taking turns for attention. The first time it was Elvis growling him away from me sitting with him in dad's chair, then it was Max going for Elvis when I was rubbing Max's belly in the hallway - the last I heard Max didn't appreciate Elvis' mood and playfighting and snapped at him instead.

When I'm at work or at home, I find myself thinking about him. I open up the picture here on my desktop at work and wonder how he's going. I go to the Gowrie house early when I pick up my brother for martial arts just so I can see how he's going and hang out with him.

I really hope the two of them get along.

And I'm looking into volunteering dogwalking at the pound to try and bring some light to the poor fellows stuck in there.

2 comments:

Martie said...

That is the second saddest thing that I have read on your blog.

But good on you for choosing a dog from the pound, and even better because it is an 'older' dog. Too many of the older dogs get ignored in favour of the younger ones.

We got our Small Dog from the pound, and I will never look elsewhere for a dog again.

xx

Enny said...

We wanted an older one that would be able to come and in not out-cute Elvis and steal all his attention, and also just the way that losing a dog makes you appreciate them all the more - knowing that there's all these unwanted ones sitting and crying in there - how could you not?!

And because we were looking at it as buying a friend for Elvis rather than a pet for us, it wasn't about finding a teacup designer breed for a grand, but finding a lovely lil fellow in need of a home.

But God, it's heartbreaking going in there (the opera music piping thru the speakers DOESN'T calm them down)...