I think I won a reverse lottery: my time slot for volunteer dog-walking is before sunrise! Seriously, 7:00 a.m. means leaving my house by 6:30 and it's dark! And too early to make coffee, something that my dogs today seemed to intuit. Caffeine-free, not quite alert, rather cold, a bit nervous about this adventure, but there I was at the allotted hour, trying to get a 70 pound ball of white fur into a dog harness when all the dog wanted was to be left alone.
As reported previously, the dogs at the shelter live in 10 x 10 concrete rooms. The rooms are cleaned regularly and the temperature is fine, but I don't care if dogs have zero aesthetic sense: these boxes are depressing. No art on the walls, no cute bookshelf holding their favorite toys, no soothing music. A bed, two bowls. That's it. Is it any wonder they look at us volunteers as interlopers? Especially us new volunteers, which they (the dogs) understand can be easily intimidated. And intimidated I was. Look at this dog: how cute does this guy look? Keep in mind that he is part Irish Wolfhound.
His name is Gandolf. He has been at the shelter for a while, was "adopted" three weeks ago and then returned to the shelter for reasons that I do not know. But how bad must he feel? Loved for a few days and then scorned. It's no wonder he doesn't want me to try and put a harness over his head. However, once harnessed, he was fine. We walked, he peed a lot, I gave him pieces of cooked chicken I brought with me. We went back to his prison cell and he went back to being depressed.
My next dog was Selene, a tri-pod (what they call a dog who has had a leg amputated.) Now, one might think a three legged dog would be easy to handle, but one would be mistaken. Selene is beautiful, large and quite energetic and jumpy. While Gandolf was simply disdainful, Selene is quite wily. She hates anyone leaning over her and can spin around 360 degrees faster than you can say "Siberian Husky." Getting a harness on her took about five minutes of alternatively giving her sliced hot dogs (also brought with me) with one hand and trying one-handed to snap her into her harness. Once done, we went out to the yard and she raced around like crazy, chased a ball, played tug and acted like the two-year old dog she is.
Whew. Now my two hour shift was almost half over and I looked for another dog I could walk and I picked Sunny. The notes I read on Sunny said he was a bit jumpy and somewhat difficult to harness but a sweet-heart and was learning to "Sit" upon command. OK, into his room I snuck, after throwing hot dog slices to the far side so I could sneak in without him bolting out the door. Again, I spent at least 5 minutes with him, never once getting anywhere near putting on the harness because all Sunny did was jump on me. Not forcefully, but just jumping up and down, on his back legs, over and over. He wanted more hot dogs but even the hot dogs couldn't get him to quiet down enough to harness him. I finally admitted failure and left him for someone else to take out. He looks like such a good dog.... and he probably will be one day. Just not today, at least not for me.
I still had time on my shift (not that anyone would care if I left early, but a commitment is a commitment.) I chatted with two other walkers who had been there a while and told them my sad Sunny story. They suggested Marshall, an older dog, who they said was a bit jumpy, but in an older dog way. Fine, off to get Marshall.
Seriously, look at this guy. He's about 8 years old, weighs about 60 pounds and looks like such a good guy. It took me another five minutes and tons of hot dog slices to get him harnessed and he was such a puller on the leash! When we got to the big yard and I could unleash him, he ran like his tail was on fire. He peed on everything and did that digging-marking thing dogs do. He chased the ball (but wouldn't bring it back) and then proceeded to just dig a huge hole. Then more running and more peeing. Finally, after about 20 minutes he hopped onto a large wooden structure and let me pet him. And that was the best part of my day. Marshall wanted to be petted. He wanted someone to tell him he was a good boy, that he was such a good dog. I petted Marshall for about five minutes and it was clearly the best part of his morning as well. He was as calm as a daisy as we walked back to his cell. He let me take off the harness easily and he got more hot dogs.
Marshall made me realize that all the labor involved in trying to get the dogs ready to go outside, ready to go the the field or walk around the property is worth it for one reason: the dogs need attention and love. That's it. If we struggle to leash them up, it's ok. It's worth it to see them calm down, look at us like we might be alright because we are petting them.
Whew!!! It was an eye-opening morning, a lot of frustrating moments, a lot of self-doubt (can I actually do this?) and some satisfaction as well. Next Wednesday will be better. I will get better at this. It's all about the dogs, not about me.
And I haven't even mentioned the cats and guinea pigs and bunnies! We don't walk them, of course, but they are also looking for homes.
Think about it!
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