My dog is a mystery. I don’t know when or where he was born, his exact breed, his age or why he’s so easily spooked. More importantly I don’t know how he ended up starving in a forest with another black terrier half his size.
One day, eight years ago, my friend Keith told me how she had coordinated the rescue of a pair of terriers running loose in our urban forest. They had evaded all previous capture attempts and were now emaciated and very skittish.
Then she showed me the pictures . They were heartbreaking. Both dogs had lost most of their hair and their ribs were showing. The larger, a male, the colour of wheat, had an intense penetrating gaze. The black, a female, appeared ready to fight, which she did. And that is why Keith had to call Animal Services. Now she was worried the dogs would be put down. It had been a week since the rescue and she was afraid to phone and check. I said I’d do it.
Over the next three weeks I charted their journey from one shelter to another and even went to visit them. I was told they were too anxious to meet strangers but that both were rallying and would need time to adapt to captivity. The attendant said she thought they’d be sent to a terrier rescue where they might be adopted together. Relieved and happy I told Keith the news and forgot about them.
To this day I have no idea what initiated my need to check the Animal Services Adoption site a week or so later. But when I did, there staring out at me with that the same direct gaze, was the golden- haired terrier. What was he doing there on his own?
That’s when my heart took its next unexpected leap. It had been two years since my border collie Ikwe had died and though I knew I would adopt another dog at some point nothing had moved me to even look. Two terriers was out of the question. . But one? I called my best friend to come and have a look.
She took one glance at the picture, which was a head shot, and told me matter-of-factly he was too darned cute to be there very long. To which she added; “I’ve even got a few names I’ve been saving up.”
That’s the thing about people who love you. They notice things. And my friend knew it was only a matter of time before I would need another four legged pal to keep me, Me! We went to Animal Services the next morning. And that’s where things took another unexpected turn!
To be continued on Wednesday, July 6.
Bonnie Dickie lives in Winnipeg, the Elm capital of Canada. In a previous life she worked for CBC in Yellowknife, NWT before moving South to freelance as a documentary filmmaker. Her work has taken her across the Arctic as well as China, Africa and Spain. Today she is semi-retired and aside from her dog walking exploits is focused on learning to play the ukulele-a talent she has yet to fully grasp.
