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.