“Dogs are great. Bad dogs, if you can really call
them that, are perhaps the greatest of them all.” – John Grogan
Our latest rescue
dog, Roscoe, will celebrate his one year anniversary with us this week. Lying
at my feet in his dog bed, snoring loudly, he has no idea we’re about to mark
this milestone. But, as in all other situations, when the fun begins Roscoe the
no-longer-terrible Terrier will be in the middle of things, crooked smile on
his face, barking loudly and prancing about like it’s all about him, which in
this case, it is.
When we first
met Roscoe, he was not this way. He was a sad, broken, scared little fellow, so
sick there wasn’t much life or love left in him. He’d ended up at the animal
shelter after his person died and he was not doing well, at all.
I saw Roscoe in
a Facebook video a shelter volunteer posted. There he sat, shivering on the
cold concrete floor, looking confused and sad, scared and pitiful, making a low
moaning sound. That was it for me - I had to save him.
A rescue took Roscoe
the next day. I contacted them immediately and offered to foster him – after all,
people love the little dogs and all Roscoe needed was some TLC. We’d have him
up and running and in a new forever home by Christmas…or so I thought.
My theory began
to crumble when I picked Roscoe up at the vet and they said, “Oh, you’re here
for the biter!” What? I thought I was here for the cute little guy who just
needed a bath, some love, good food and medicine – not “the biter.”
It turned out
Roscoe had the worst ear infection the vet had ever seen and even after
treatment, he would still be nearly deaf. He had a mouth full of rotten teeth
that needed to be pulled, once he was in better shape. Roscoe was elderly. He had
one blind eye and the other one was infected, so when he gazed at you, it was
with a vacuous, soul-less stare. His under-bite made his face look crooked. Flea
allergies and skin infections had robbed him of most of his hair; what was left
was a dull, grey-white color. Because of all of these things and some rough
treatment along the way, Roscoe didn’t like to be touched - in fact, he would
bite anyone who even tried.
“He doesn’t
seem to have much personality,” the vet said. “But maybe that’s because of all
the health problems. Poor little guy. Good luck.”
When we got home,
Roscoe’s other issues became apparent. He ran around in a frenzy, pooping and
peeing whenever and wherever he liked. He jumped on the furniture and up on the
tables, searching for food as if he’d never been fed. He was like a mean little
Whirling Dervish with some Tasmanian Devil thrown in.
I fed him a big
meal and, to his credit, he quickly found his new dog bed and fell into a deep
sleep. It was as if a full belly, a warm bed and the feeling of even temporary
safety had overwhelmed his tiny tormented soul and it shut down peacefully for
the night.
I fired off an
email to the rescue, detailing all the reasons Roscoe wasn’t going work out. Then,
something about the sight and sound of him enjoying that deep sleep touched my
heart. I didn’t send the email and we gave Roscoe another chance…
Slowly but
surely, Roscoe settled in. He became less wild and seemed to actually notice us
– not with affection, but with tolerance. Roscoe still snapped when we tried to
touch him, but he appreciated routine and regular meals and before long he would
allow us to clip on his leash for walks and put a little coat on him when it
was cold.
Once he was
well enough, Roscoe had his dental surgery and it worked a miracle. Without the
terrible tooth pain, Roscoe became a new dog – friendly, affectionate and eager
to interact. Even though he still didn’t like being picked up, the new Roscoe
was a dog someone might actually want to adopt, so we had to decide if we were
going to give Roscoe up or become his new forever family…Needless to say,
Roscoe had wiggled his way into our hearts.
Fast forward to
Roscoe today and you’ll see a proud little fellow with a thick fluffy coat of
apricot-colored hair. He likes being petted and having his head scratched;
sometimes he even rolls over for a belly rub. He lets us bath and brush him. His
one good eye has become expressive, dark and mischievous. He has the cutest
button nose and that happy, excited, crooked smile would melt anyone’s heart. Roscoe
is very vocal, too, prancing about barking orders when he thinks something
needs to be done or softly yelping with his “inside voice” when he’s just
trying to talk.
Mr. Clark
Googled Roscoe and now that he’s healthy, he looks like a purebred Norfolk
Terrier – a breed the AKC describes as “fearless, active, compact and hardy.” They
are admired for their “gameness, loyalty and great charm.” A “happy, spirited
and self-confident” dog, they are known “barkers.” Norfolk Terriers are called “the
perfect demon,” “self-confident dogs who carry themselves with importance and
thrive on human contact.” Yes, that’s our Roscoe.
Sometimes the universe sends a surprise that has an obvious down side. But, if you accept it, go with it, believe and follow your heart, sometimes that down side turns around and the surprise becomes something wonderful. We got a demon who wasn’t so perfect at first, but now we can’t imagine life without him. Happy Anniversary, Roscoe!
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