At around this time four years ago today I slipped into a nightmare. It had all started so well. My planning had been pretty flawless. The only glitch was the harness that hadn’t arrived in time. Never mind I thought, plenty of time to pop out and pick one up in the morning. Except the next morning would be spent bleary-eyed through lack of sleep and crying, frantically calling Vet’s Surgeries and Rescue Centres as we pounded pavements, tracks and fields searching for the foster dog who, just minutes after arriving had snapped her collar and bolted into the dusk.
Guilt
The guilt I felt was overwhelmed only by the desire to find her. My most important job was to keep her safe but just an hour after meeting me and just minutes after she found the courage to edge her way along the back seat of the car to rest her head tentatively in my lap, she was lost in a strange place, dodging traffic as the sun slipped out of the sky. I’ve never in my life seen a dog look so scared and hope I never do again. (Read the full story here)
Forgiveness
Annie forgave me far more quickly than I forgave myself. When we eventually found her two days later exhausted and completely shut down all we cared about was the fact that she was alive and safe. We resolved to give her whatever she needed to recover from her ordeal. We took it in turns to sleep on the sofa and we abandoned our offices to work off the dining room table that had become her den so that she had company at all times. We respected her wishes and kept our distance, waiting for her to make the first move towards contact. Two days in she was confident enough to sniff Stu’s feet as he slept on the sofa. Three days in she nuzzled my hand under the table as I worked and I knew we’d be okay.
Joy
Meeting her today, the dog who will now pull to greet strangers in the street if they look like the cuddling type, it’s hard to remember the dog who wouldn’t even make eye contact with us. The dog who would literally cower behind our legs if someone looked at her in the street, or heaven forbid, bend to stroke her. She can still be reactive in the wrong circumstances (she can’t stand German Shepherds or Huskies despite our best efforts), but she’s come so far. We have new challenges today with the recent diagnosis of severe arthritis in both her elbows to match that in her hips and a bladder problem no doubt caused by having too many litters to line the greedy pockets of her previous ‘owners’, but she remains an utter joy to share our life with.
So happy ‘gotcha day’ day our darling Annie May. Yes, there will be biscuits. And the even better news? In two days time we’ll be celebrating ‘gotcha back day’.
xx
Love you lots Annie, u have come so far and we all v proud of u. You have such wonderful mummy and daddy. Mwah xxx
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She’s more ours than she was theirs now. Annie…the foster dog that stayed. 🙂
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More like took root! 🙂
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I loved this post! Your words painted a picture which made me feel, or at least have a GOOD idea of how you felt then and now! I am sure that if she could talk like us (I am sure she talks with those beautiful eyes and the ears are always so expressive) she’d also be saying Happy Gotcha Day to you both… big hug, Alexandra
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Thanks Alexandra! She’s certainly a communicative little soul – you’re right, those ears speak volumes! Hug! x
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Aww!! So happy you found each other!
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