Recovery

How long can this take??? He's SO much better than he used to be, but still, he's slow, paces and wanders, doesn't know what to do with himself when he's not asleep, and still sleeps almost all the time. He is beginning to connect to me, like when he comes looking for me for attention and affection - especially first thing in the morning. It's so sweet it sometimes brings tears to my eyes.

Here he is with Arno begging for food, as they always do. Why? Because I've fed them from the sofa, of course! My own fault - but I love having them look up at me like this.

How could I have ever known how much I'd love this little guy. The connection took a while, but it can't be denied. He's SUCH a sweetheart.

His recovery. It's slow, but it's happening. Sort of like my own recovery. I'm learning what is deep down in the core of my ego, and why being alone hurts so much. The recovery is slow, but it's happening. I still get impatient, but less so, with myself and Ashley. Time heals, but not without help and understanding. Ashley now understands that I'm his mom and that I love him. I now understand that I'm going to come out of this, whole. Yes, recovery is a journey (such a trite phrase - but so very true), and it takes as long as it takes. Ashley has me, and I have me. Sweet.

Leading the pack

I was still exhausted, traumatized and feeling lost and alone from leaving my ex-husband a year and half before the adoption. We were together 18 years and he was the love of my life. Leaving him and my home was the hardest thing I have ever done and it broke my heart, leaving me in shock. I left in order to save myself. It was as if I was in quicksand and sinking fast, with my life force quickly being sucked out of me. I kept blaming him for being the way he was, but I learned that he didn’t need to change for me. Everything I wanted him to be for me, I could be for me. Ouch. I’m still working on it, but part of what I wanted in him (and now in me) was leadership, strength, and confidence. And wouldn’t you know it, these were the things I learned that enabled me to adopt Ashley.

The reason I couldn’t adopt Ashley until I changed was that Arno had an aggression issue toward puppies and any dog he deemed to be behaving improperly - too dominant, hyper or with bad doggy manners. It’s cute sounding, but it wasn’t cute when I walked him. I was scared and nervous (not good leadership) he would get away from me and get into a fight with a German Shepherd, Pit Bull or Rottweiler - and get killed. Or, he would attack a puppy or small dog and kill it. I started watching The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan and practicing his techniques.

The biggest change I had to make was becoming the leader with Arno and disciplining him when he misbehaved. I learned to walk him and not let him walk me. Once I got the strength and confidence to keep him under control (most of the time, anyway), I was able to adopt Ashley and walk 2 at the same time. It was an amazing process to BE the leader of our little pack, which translated into being the leader in my life.

I realized that I hadn't been the leader in my life, and certainly not in my marriage. My life had become out of control and I was the victim. I am still developing personal empowerment and learning to lead my life in the direction my heart leads it. To become my own authority, as well as Arno's and Ashley's pack leader. Thank you Cesar for showing me that Arno was simply reflecting my own inner experience. And thank you for showing me how to take control and be able to adopt Ashley.

Again, life gives us exactly what we need. I'm learning to trust that.

Episodes

The first time Ashley had one of his episodes I panicked. He paced and panted all around the house. This started around 10pm, so I was up almost the whole night. I made a bed on the floor with blankets and let him crawl all over me. He had to be ON me, so I just laid on the floor and let him do whatever he needed to do. I felt so bad for him, but this was the only thing I was able to do. I was totally helpless to ease his distress.

The next day I called my vet to take him in for an exam. She found nothing wrong, but gave me a sedative to relax him and a referral to a canine internist. $800 later at the internist, still no diagnosis. The episodes continued as well as my worry. Finally we determined that he must have a brain tumor. All we could do was give him a sedative to make him sleep. At least he wouldn't be suffering for as long.

But then the episodes stopped for a while. And when they began again, he now shook as if he was terrified or cold. At first I thought it was caused by his teeth because it began while he was eating. I started crushing his food, but then the last one started while he was sleeping. That was this past Sunday. It was the worst ever. The next day he was dazed, confused, running into things and falling down. By the afternoon he was fine, but he had never acted this way the day after. Now I'm really concerned.

What is going on here?

Whatever it is, I have to surrender to it. I never know when it will begin, why it begins or how to help me. Life has given me so many lessons these past few years to teach me acceptance and how to be with what is, without resisting it. These episodes are the perfect gift. I can't get mad at Ashley, I can't help him and I can't keep it from happening. What else is there to do but surrender, comfort my sweet little boy as much as possible and just be in the moment?

Life does give us just what we need.

My Miracle Boy

No one can believe how well he's doing. He was close to death when he was found, and now there's nothing wrong with him except a few chronic conditions that are more annoying than anything else. People tell me what a great job I've done - and it's true - I've taken exquisite care of him, spent lots of money and time on him, and loved him back to health.

But it was Ashley who did the hard work. The work to stay alive and keep going while he was a stray - lost, alone, and profoundly neglected. The work of being picked up and taken to the pound - wondering what will happen next. The work of being transported from Ashland, VA to the vet in Annapolis. The work to heal, go in and out of anesthesia, take endless numbers of meds, and live in a cage for a month. The work of learning a new home and family and all the new sounds, smells and routines. The work of learning to be loved. Of healing.

This was Ashley's journey. The woman who boards and grooms both Arno and Ashley is a Westie lover and breeder (this is where I got Arno because I couldn't adopt a rescue at the time - more about that later). She says that Ashley is a miracle and he's alive because he's so determined. My vet says it's a miracle. My neighbors say he's a miracle. One thought he was so bad that I should put him down. She marvels at him everytime she sees him.

My heart fills with love when I watch him asking for food, go to the door wanting to go outside, when he tries to get away from me when he sees me with the ear cleaner, and when he trys to connect with Arno.

To be part of his life and journey is a gift, honor, and blessing. What great good luck.

Ashley and Arno

Back for more about Ashley. The break wasn't intentional, but here I am, nonetheless.

One of the most important parts for me about adopting a new Westie was whether or not they would get along with Arno. What can I say about Arno? He's my "lifetime" dog. I learned that phrase in a book by Jon Katz. What it means is that I'll never have a more special dog in my lifetime. Arno is that. He is my heart, my love, and has been my reason for living. Seriously.

Arno doesn't like to be photographed and never looks all that happy when he is. Here he is lounging on my bed - turning his head as he usually does when I'm pointing the camera at him.

I took Arno when I went to meet Ashley. It was really up to him as to whether or not we adopted any dog. They sniffed each other and then went about their business sniffing everything else. That was it. Whew!! When Arno doesn't like a dog, you know it! He gets a bit crazed and can even get aggressive. I was so relieved.

I got them home and before you knew it, they were buddies. Not really all that close, but extremely compatible. Arno tried and tried to get Ashley to play, to no avail. Ashley was either too tired, too sick, too old, or never learned to play. Whatever it was, it made me sad for both of them.

Here's just one of the many pictures of them together. This was taken on a cold, rainy Sunday afternoon. So very cozy.


And that's how it's always been. Arno is definitely the boss, but Ashley does things that looks like he thinks he's boss. So who knows? The main thing is that Arno is still my #1 - and he knows it. For him, that's the most important thing!

The Meaning of Rescue

I got this poem in the adoption packet when I picked up Ashley. I still cry when I read it because this described him exactly. He was sad, tired, and completely traumatized by what he went through.

The Meaning of Rescue...

Now that I'm home, bathed, settled and fed,
All nicely tucked in my warm new bed.
I'd like to open my baggage
Lest I forget,
There is so much to carry -
So much to regret.
Hmm . . . Yes there it is, right on the top
Let's unpack Loneliness, Heartache and Loss,
And there by my leash hides Fear and Shame.
As I look on these things I tried so hard to leave -
I still have to unpack my baggage called Pain.
I loved them, the others, the ones who left me,
But I wasn't good enough - for they didn't want me.
Will you add to my baggage?
Will you help me unpack?
Or will you just look at my things -
And take me right back?
Do you have the time to help me unpack?
To put away my baggage,
To never repack?
I pray that you do - I'm so tired you see,
But I do come with baggage -
Will you still want me?

-- Unknown

We meet

There I was, on Westierescue.com, filling out an application. It was late on a Friday night and I should have been getting ready for bed. But I was compelled by something outside myself. I rationalized by telling myself that it would be at least 6-8 weeks before the right one showed up. I knew there were long waiting lists to adopt Westies.

So I hit the 'submit' button and went to sleep.

In 4 hours there was an email in my Inbox telling me there were lots of dogs needing new homes. There he was.

Ashley appears to be a seven + year-old male that came to us from the shelter in Ashland Virginia. He has had all of his medical needs taken care of, shots updated etc. and is ready to go to a new home.

I had a Yorkie many years ago named Ashley. And my other Westie's name is Arno, which starts with an 'A' - it was fate. I had to meet Ashley.

Flash forward one week later. It was the Friday before a week of vacation that I was unexpectely spending at home. There was a hurricane headed our way, but I HAD to pick him up. I just knew he was the one. I took Arno with me to be sure he approved. Ultimately it was up to him who we adopted.

Under the dark, ominous skies and wading through humidity that took my breath away, I saw him. He and Arno sniffed each other, then went about their business. The coast was clear. Steve, the volunteer who had just picked him up from the vet, said that all his hair had been shaved off because his hair was completely matted when they found him as a stray. He had also had a huge growth removed from his back. Oh my.

Then the fun started - going through his meds. There was a huge big bag of them. His ears were infected, his eyes were infected, his skin was infected, and he was on a special diet. At least I had the vet's number who had treated him.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I had never administered any kind of medicine like this. I had had Arno since he was a puppy and he was always healthy. It took time, but I began learning how to be patient and go slow. Ashley was so weak and tired that he just stood there and let me do whatever I wanted.

Going slow and being patient is what I learned that week of vacation. I immediately saw that he was reflecting my own state back to me. I started to heal, along with my new little boy.

Did I get flustered and impatient? You bet - with him and with me. I'm still impatient with myself, but both of us are still healing. Him from being profoundly neglected and abandoned, and me from a shattering divorce where life as I knew it for almost 20 years ended.