I'm not a dog person

I’m not a dog person.  I never had dogs growing up, and to tell the truth I never really got comfortable with them until I started working in rescue, just over four years ago.  Cats are my comfort zone.  But you can’t spend much time working in rescue before you meet a dog that changes all that.  For me, that dog was a Rottweiler/black lab mix named Rocco.  

When Rocco first came through our doors here at Woodford Humane, he didn’t seem like a dog who would ever find a home.  He was terrified of people; he couldn’t be handled, and it was all we could do to keep him as fed and happy as possible.  He was suffering from sarcoptic mange and severe hip dysplasia, despite being just a year old; that sort of ailment doesn’t often occur in such a young dog unless he’s spent far too much time penned in a tiny space while his bones and muscles are still developing.  The world had not done this dog any justice, and it showed through his fear.  

Rocco, during his wait for a home

And then, one week later, something happened: one of those small miracles that make this job so special.  When we walked in to bring Rocco his breakfast, he reached out a paw.  To this day, I don’t know what changed his mind so suddenly and completely, but Rocco became the best part of my day.  We would bring him up into the office, and his joy at the prospect of a little quality time with the people he loved was so great that he would barrel in, throw his front paws up on our laps to give us his big puppy hugs, and then push us around the office in our rolling chairs, to our (and his) endless amusement.  

Despite his love for the staff and volunteers he had come to know and trust, Rocco struggled at the adoption center.  It's a high-stress environment for any dog, with the constant stream of new sights, sounds, smells, and faces; for a dog with a background like Rocco's, for whom trust did not come easily, it was overwhelming.  He didn't show his true colors in the kennel; if you took him out for a little quality time, that big puppy shone through, but if you just walked up to take a look he would often respond by growling and pacing.  Not many people were interested in getting to know the puppy behind the growl.  By this point I was hopelessly in love with Rocco, and seeing him passed over for younger, happier, healthier dogs, when he needed a home so badly, was heartbreaking.  We did everything we could to make him comfortable, but I spent sleepless nights worrying that he wouldn't be able to cope, and his behavior would continue to deteriorate.  It seemed so unfair, after all that he had been through.

But there was another small miracle in store for Rocco: a family.  A family who didn't mind that he was big and shy, that he was black, that he wasn't a puppy, that he needed hip surgery.  That walked up to his run in the kennel, saw him pace and growl, and instead of walking away, gave him the chance to show them the puppy inside. 

Rocco's family already had a rottie/lab mix of their own who needed a playmate, so his new home hinged on him getting along with their dog.  The first introduction was shaky; Rocco was stiff and nervous, and the puppy hid behind the growl again for a moment.  I looked at the family.  

"Let's try it again."  

And this time, the growl was gone.  There was sniffing, and wagging, and suddenly I was watching 200 pounds of dog jumping, playing, and romping around the yard.  I could have cried right then, because I knew Rocco had found his home and his family.  That kind of joy only comes when you’ve officially turned into a dog lover, and I have Rocco to thank for that.

 

The dogs who come through our doors every year come from every walk of life; some are abused or neglected, but most are just the victims of unfortunate circumstance that they can neither understand nor control.  But there’s one thing that makes all of these dogs so special, and Rocco is a perfect example: give a rescue dog the time to realize that he is safe and loved, and his capacity to forgive any wrongs that humanity has dealt him in the past is bottomless.  He will love you in return, unconditionally, joyfully, and for the rest of his life.  If you're lucky and you have a rolling chair, you might even get to go for a ride now and then.

October is national Adopt-A-Dog Month, but in reality, that’s every month around here.  If you’re looking for canine companionship, I want to personally invite you to come and find your Rocco.  He’s here, waiting to share that joyful, unconditional love.  He might be the bouncy puppy you came looking for; he might be the dog pacing and growling in the kennel, unsure of himself and his surroundings.  You'll never know until you offer him that second chance...and you'll never regret it once you do. 

-Beth