Paige

Paige came into the shelter as a stray, and it's bewildering that her previous owner never came looking for her. She's only about two years old, so she's hitting that golden time when a dog still has a puppy's playfulness and energy, but a bit of the wisdom and restraint that carries into their adult years. Although she is a little bit overenthusiastic in wanting to give hugs sometimes, Paige is well-behaved and personable. On top of all that, she plays fetch, too!

When we went outside today, Sophie and I took turns brushing the unshot winter-coat she was still carrying around (in the 103-degree Texas summertime). As is often the case, getting anything but a close-up was tricky, since she always seemed to want to be wherever the person with the camera was. Paige really seems to be everything you could want in a friendly, knocking-about-with kind of dog.

"And if you adopt one Paige today, we'll even throw in a second set of back dewclaws FREE as an added bonus!"

UPDATE 7/11: Took Paige outside again today, and she was really happy to get a chance to stretch her legs. We also found out that she's much more of a people-dog than a dog's dog: she grumbled at a couple of other female dogs that walked by her kennel, and (although there was no snapping or lunging) an overenthusiastic young puppy wound up getting literally punched in the face. Not sure if it's because she isn't spayed or if her "only dog" instincts extend to the menfolk, but Paige could use a little extra socialization and supervision when it comes to strange dogs.

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Jasper, the One-Eared Dog

 

When Jasper first arrived at the shelter, we really didn't know what to make of him.  He huddled in the back of his kennel, pretty much sitting and glowering.  He wouldn't come forward to take a treat from me - even when I tossed it halfway across the kennel floor.  But he didn't growl, or give any signs of aggression, and the poor guy needed some water.  So in I ducked to get to know him better.

At first, he looked shy and confused:  one ear flat and laid back, the other standing semi-erect and forward.  Once inside his kennel, I could understand why a lot better:

My initial thought was that a previous owner tried to "ghetto-bob" his ears, and gave up after the first wouldn't stay erect.  After discussing it with some of the other folks at the shelter, though, it seems much more likely that something - something very large -  had gotten ahold of him at some point.  Jasper isn't a small fry by anyone's estimation, but whatever happened to him was very big and very scary, and it's left some pretty deep scars.  Not all of those are flesh wounds, either.

He's extremely frightened - almost never standing fully upright when he walks, ducking and shaking uncontrollably when he's touched too quickly or startled.  Yesterday, we had to cut short our walk because he was terrified of even the pigeons and grackles in the parking lot.  A little later, we ventured back out with Laney, a happy-go-lucky young boxer/chow/shepherd fellow, and Jasper found a bit more pluck and courage.

 

 I only had a chance to stop by for a few minutes this evening, but made sure to stop and say hello to Jasper.  He was a lot more relaxed, and nuzzled up under my arm contentedly.  I have yet to see him smile outright, but I have a feeling that he's not too far from it.

NOTE:  Time and weather allowing, we'll try to introduce him to our dog Amelia tomorrow -  she's no stranger to working with frightened dogs herself, and maybe she'll help Jasper locate his misplaced confidence.

UPDATE (2/11):  It snowed like crazy today.  Undaunted, Jasper and I went outside to hang out with Frosty, another dog on the "urgent list."  Someone was interested in both of them, so I figured it would be a good thing to see if they could stand each other first.  How did it go?  You be the judge.

 

And, at long last - Jasper smiled today.

UPDATE (2/13):  Jasper finally got to meet Amelia today - along with Rufus and Mia, when he came to stay with us for the next week!  Minnesota Animal Rescue pulled him (along with Frosty, and three other dogs) today, and he'll be heading north next weekend, health permitting.   So it looks like Frosty and Jasper could get used to this "snow" thing after all...

UPDATE (2/19):  Tomorrow is the day Jasper is supposed to go to a new foster in Minnesota.  We will let you know how that goes.  He's been a wonderful guest and I will miss his sweet little face.

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UPDATE (2/20):  Jasper's prospective foster did not reply to Tim's email, so Jasper is still here.  Our house is a bit too small and crowded now and so we are looking for another temporary foster for him until things are set for him in Minnesota.  He's super sweet and snuggly, and although he is being treated for URI, he's happy and energetic.  He does like to chase the cats and has a strong prey drive and should not be in a household with cats or other small animals unless supervised. He does not like strangers coming up to "his" house or gate and will let you know if someone's approaching.  Other than that, he's very observant of both his human and canine packmates and is eager to be a good boy, whatever that entails.  If you are interested in fostering or adopting Jasper, we can certainly arrange a home visit with your family/pack.  Email to onimusic@verizon.net.

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Help Needed

Three lovely young dogs - Rexa, Layla, and Gilda were rescued from the shelter last week, which provided safety for them as well as direly-needed space for other dogs. Unfortunately, the rescue they were slated to go to has suddenly found all of their foster homes flooded with litters of "holiday puppies."

That leaves our girls in a bit of a bind until space at the foster homes can be made once again.

All three are currently in the care of our good friend Christy Wilson, who herself has a full house. She's valiantly taken it upon herself to see that they are boarded, vetted, and spayed - at a tremendous cost to herself.

If you would be interested in fostering (or adopting, once they are spayed) one of these sweethearts, please let us know and we'll try to put you in contact with Christy. If you'd like to help, but don't have room at home (something we can very much relate to), there is a "chip-in" page to help offset the cost of boarding and vetting them. Please donate if you can - no matter how small, every bit will help.

All three of these girls are outstanding ambassadors for their breeds, and we think they deserve the best future they can get.

http://savinglivestogether.chipin.com/rexa-gilda-and-layla

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Remo (the Second)

February has been shaping up to be a busy month. Not only are our "day jobs" and fostering young Mia keeping us busier than usual, the shelter staff are preparing to move to a new facility (a lot bigger, and about 35 years newer). It seems like there's never any time where we, the dogs, and the sun can all be in the same place at the same time.

It's a real shame, too. There is a legion of wonderful animals stuck here, and far too many will never be seen in time. Remo is one of the ones I worry most about, because he's (like Rexa before him) just too quiet and polite in his kennel to catch people's attention.

At first, he looks all stoic and grown-up. And big. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he had a little bit of American Mastiff in him, especially considering the loose skin on his face... not to mention his warm and affectionate personality. Apparently his previous owner wanted to give this impression, since he had Remo's tail docked. That, of course, means you have to look a little more closely to see his tiny nub of a tail wagging a mile a minute.

Remo is pretty reserved in his kennel. Going out the front door, he slinks along the ground like a soldier under fire. Keep on going though, and keep on encouraging him, and once you get him out in the sun, he absolutely shines. And wallows. And occasionally fetches. And rolls in the grass again. There's just something ineffable about his personality, though: a joyful warmth that's really hard not to fall in love with.

UPDATE: While writing this, I learned from Russell Posch (the awesome resident Shelter Walker) that Remo has been moved - along with several other outstanding dogs - to the "urgent list". That means that if the shelter fills up again, he might have to be euthanized to make room for new, incoming animals.

UPDATE (2/6): ADOPTED! After an amazing outpouring of support and offers to help young Remo out, he was pulled today... And the people who picked him up are thinking he's not going to be needing to find another home. I couldn't be happier - and that's not literary license; I really mean it.
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Winston

I (Sophie) was told by another volunteer that there was a new dog that needed to be worked with. This unnamed little boxer/ridgeback mix was snapping at anyone trying to touch him. He was small, thin and looked more mournful than menacing. I figured I would just take it slow and easy, so I got in the kennel with him and knelt down. He backed up a few steps and I reached over and took his food bowl. He didn't seem to mind. I put a few kibbles in my hand and held it out to him. He sniffed it, then sort of half-heartedly mouthed the kibble, not really eating but at least touching his face to my hand. I didn't watch him or stare at him, just acted disinterested and kept offering kibble in my outstretched hand. Before long, I was briefly stroking his face and head while he investigated my hand. He got closer and seemed to be pressing against my hand a little more like a dog that wanted to be petted. Within a few minutes, he was on my lap, getting petted from nose to tail. Terri, (the volunteer coordinator and someone we both admire immensely) had previously been able to pet him as well, which made us wonder if he wasn't just afraid of men. So naturally I went to Tim to test that theory.

Check out that cute ridge down his neck

With me in the kennel, sitting against the far wall, Tim came in and sat down by the door. Winston--as Terri and I had named him moments prior--kept close to me but didn't seem aggressive toward Tim, just wary. Gently and reassuringly, Tim offered Winston small bits of dog biscuit from his hand. And just as with me, Winston learned to trust him to the point that I left them for a bit and came back to find Winston curled up and sleeping on Tim's lap, content as you please. But he still growled at one of the Animal Shelter staff members just a little while later, even while Tim was holding him. Without knowing Winston's story, we can't know just what has caused his fear of certain people, only that he isn't a hopeless case and that he does, very much, want to be loved and comforted.

Winston learning that he's got friends.

UPDATE (1/21): Winston has been quickly getting his confidence back, to the point where he'll even occasionally strut around outside, his head and tail held high and proud. It's really encouraging to see. Most of the time, though, he's just thrilled to have some attention, and is quickly turning into a very affectionate young dog. And as he gets less emaciated (though he's still pretty wasp-waisted), Winston is actually shaping up to be a pretty handsome guy.

UPDATE (2/6): We stopped by the local Petsmart (where Lost Paws Rescue of Texas holds adoption events every weekend) to see young Winston, and he was as happy to see us as we were to see him. He was charming people right and left, and seems to have finally met a good play partner who moves at his speed, along with the rest of his new family! We all met back at the shelter to fill out the adoption paperwork, and had a great last get-together with Russell Posch and Terri Walker, the shelter's volunteer coordinator (and Winston's foster mom for the past two weeks). It was a fabulous way for Winston to start his new life.

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Pookey

Pookey is a dog that I wanted to feature a week ago. He's likely a mix of German Shepherd and Australian Shepherd, although he might have some Kelpie in him as well. Regardless of his bloodline, Pookey is bright, friendly, confident and just an all-around fun dog to be with.

The reason for his being at the shelter is the reason I didn't post him earlier. Apparently, he was used as leverage in a "domestic dispute." His previous owner dumped him at the shelter to "teach a lesson" to a family member they were fighting with.

I'm no guidance counselor, but I'm pretty sure it's a stupid idea to try and extort loyalty by getting rid of the only thing someone "truly loves" - doubly so when that happens to be a living being. Triply so when that living being is a dog that still loves you, no matter how callously you treat him. And if there's anything that young Pookey has learned flawlessly, it's how to love.

Of course, he's pretty good at fetch, too. And keep-away. Often at the same time. He's got confidence, intelligence, a sense of humor and energy to spare. Working with him, I get the impression that he is truly a "gifted" dog, and would probably love learning new things and facing new challenges. In fact, the one thing Pookey doesn't have going for him is time: I waited far too long to give his previous owners time to work things out, and now the shelter is full.

It isn't fair that he's stuck in this jam. It isn't fair that he was betrayed by a pack mate for the sake of pride. But it is what it is, and all that's left to do is go from this point into wherever tomorrow takes him. That's one major difference between dogs, and most people.
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UPDATE (1/15): Well, Pookey's former family never worked out their differences, it seems. After waiting and waiting in the shelter (with very few people even considering such an energetic and eclectic-looking fellow), he was pulled by a rescue group today. He'll be heading to a foster home quite a distance from here, and hopefully will be finding a permanent - and more stable - pack to live out his whirlwind-happy days with.

Incidentally, had he not been pulled today (with several other dogs), it's likely he would have been euthanized for space at the end of the day.

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Opinion Time - All About the Fight

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When people learn that Sophie and I volunteer at a "Kill Shelter," we get a variety of responses. One of the most frequent seems to be a variation on, "Oh, I don't know how you can do that - I couldn't handle knowing that the animals might get put to sleep."

I'll be perfectly honest: it isn't easy. Personally, I'm usually drawn to the animals who have the most difficult time getting adopted or rescued, as I (somewhat abashedly) suspect a quick look back through many of Shelter Diaries' posts would indicate. Given that part of working with a shy, frightened, or headstrong animal is getting to know how it thinks... well, it seems like I wind up making a lot of friends I know I'll lose in one way or another. It's inevitable. The only way to avoid the painful part is not to do it at all. A lot of people take that route, and I can't fault them for it.

I often compare the animal shelter to a field hospital in a hostile land. Of the countless numbers that come in through the front door, many will never leave. You will lose many lives, no matter what you do, and that's just the way of things. But if everyone were too timid to make the effort, you would lose all of them. I don't view that as a palatable option.

It's impossible to "make yourself" stop caring. Empathy has no on/off switch. So you mourn each one that doesn't make it. As Sophie pointed out to me when Buster died, though: "The heart is one of the largest, strongest muscles in your body. Like other muscles, it hurts when you overwork it. And like other muscles, the pain only means it will be stronger the next time you have to use it." Every animal I've worked with has left me a stronger person, including and especially those I've cared about enough to leave me gutted when they die. That strength is something I can bring to the next dog who needs a hand, who I may or may not see leave the shelter.

In the end, you can't focus on the big picture; it'll crush you and drive you out of your head. Each day, each animal, each moment... that's where you have to work. It isn't about winning the war. It's about giving the fight everything you've got. That's what matters.

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Corina

Corina is a very energetic girl - much like A. A. Milne's Tigger, her top's made of rubber and her bottom's made of springs. And she's so happy when she sees a friendly face, she's likely to bounce all over her kennel and mug for all she's worth.

At the same time, there's a bit of a sad awkwardness to young Corina. It's nothing new to see adolescent dogs come into the shelter that haven't spent enough time around other people and animals - honestly, even our dog Rufus is feeling the growing pains of too little socialization in his first few months. But Corina looks to be nearly a year and a half old; that's a lot of catch-up learning to do, no matter how enthusiastic the student is. It's quite daunting, and Corina doesn't really hide the fact.

Inside her kennel, Corina is a handful. Her eyes and body language vacillate between shyness and a near-overwhelming hunger for affection. She's likely to go from bouncing off the walls to meekly offering her belly for scratching, and just as quickly back to ricocheting around. Outside, she'll amble along obliviously as if she'd never seen a human before, then dart over to your side to lavish snuggles or try and instigate a game.

It's as if she's teetering on the fence between being a loner or a social butterfly, and waiting impatiently to see which way fate nudges her.

UPDATE (1/15): Corina is still at the shelter, although she might have a possible adoptor coming to look at her. That in no way makes her situation "safe," however. We learned a new game yesterday - she'd leap into the air, and I'd say "Hop!" and catch her. She wasn't sure if she thought it was fun or just a bit weird, but it gave her some exercise anyway.

UPDATE (1/21): Our good friend (and great friend of dogs everywhere) Christy Wilson pulled Corina today, along with two other dogs - Laser and Pudge - who will be headed up to a rescue group in Minnesota. Here's hoping that the three of them make it there safely, and find what it takes to flourish in their new homes!

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Merlin

Despite some inclement weather and people's tight end-of-year budgets, the winter holidays went fairly well at the shelter. We have, however, seen more than our usual share of dogs with mange and other ailments over the past week or so - along with more dogs than usual winding up with "unadoptable" ID cards, whether it be for behavioral or medical reasons.

Merlin started out on such a card, due to a lot of skittishness and a somewhat painful-looking collar burn. Understandably, he wasn't too keen on being handled around the face and neck. On our first encounter (while cleaning his kennel for him), Merlin and I had the opportunity to meet on his terms and at his speed, however, and he seemed respectful and gentle, if a bit nervous. Over the next couple of days, he relaxed a lot - and let me pet him gently on his nose, chin and neck; I was, however, mindful not to roughhouse where his collar had bit into him. In return, I got a plethora of tail-wags, some rather awkward licks on the cheek, and a grin that could melt granite.

When I went by the shelter on Monday, I made sure to swing by his kennel. Merlin was a bit taciturn at first, although his tail was going a mile a minute. "Hey, Merlin," I queried, "Who's the best dog in the shelter? Huh?" At that, he broke into an ear-to-ear grin, glomping me affectionately when I stepped into his kennel to refill his water. He does jump up a bit, although he's astonishingly gentle for such a large dog. And before I left, he laid his head on my chest, smiled, and let out a contented sigh.

I haven't checked today, but I'm pretty sure young Mr. Merlin has earned his green "adoptable" card once and for all. He's a bit rough and puppy-like still with his affection, but he certainly seems eager to please and unabashed with his admiration.

UPDATE (1/7): Well, Merlin earned his green card - along with the admiration of pretty much everyone who met him yesterday. Unfortunately, he was put to sleep today; I don't know the reason yet, but I suspect that the winter weather got the better of him and he fell ill last night.

You were well named, Merlin. And I'm going to miss you so very much.
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Grief

A woman came into the shelter this weekend to have her dog euthanized.

She spoke quickly and deliberately, and explained that the dog was ill, she had taken it to five different vets, they had each told her something different and nothing had helped, now he was starting to cough up blood and the latest vet said there was something wrong with all the dog's organs and he'd have to do x-rays but she'd spent all her money at the other vets already and... She needed to have him put to sleep, because there was nothing else she could do, and she didn't want him to keep suffering.

She signed the release just as quickly, almost dismissively. The shelter technician and I both looked at the dog and his shaking owner, then at each other, and I'm sure we both had the same expression - if not the same thought.  He gently lifted the dog and carried him away. Since it was a busy day in the rest of the shelter, I was left alone with the woman.

She just stood there at the counter for about half a minute. Without looking at me, she asked, "I'm not going to see him again?" I told her no.

"It won't hurt, will it? What'll happen when they do it?"

I explained how the euthanasia injection worked - the dog would be given an anesthetic, just like if it were going into surgery. He'd fall asleep, and just not wake up again. And he wouldn't be hurting.

She nodded, then started crying. "It's all my fault. I should have done something else. I should have done more..."

Those words were very familiar. They were pretty much what I'd told myself, over and over again, when Buster died. But I knew how untrue those words were. She'd fought tooth and nail for her dog, and literally given that fight everything she had. In the shelter, she'd given him comfort and courage - and believe me, I know how hard it is to stay calm when your heart's breaking. She'd been brave enough to take on the pain of grief so her dog's pain would abate.

What more would her dog have asked of her?

I wish I could have put it more eloquently and completely, as the behavioral psychologist Patricia McConnell did on her blog, here. Sophie recently pointed this article out to me (under the heading of, "you really, really need to read this"). If you've ever lost a pet, and especially if you've ever had to have one euthanized, I highly reccommend it.

Just before she left, I told her the one thing she could have done - the one thing she still could do, in spite of everything: "Just try to always be the person your dog thinks you are."

I really hope she realizes how much she did for her dog. In time, when the sting of grief isn't as sharp, I hope she'll come to the shelter and adopt another companion. Because that will be one well-loved dog.
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Homer

If you pick up a book about raising American Pit Bull Terriers, you'll probably run across the phrase, "Ambassador Dogs." It's sort of an ideal to shoot for: the best example of what a breed has to offer, and what they're supposed to be when brought up right.

When I first met Homer, that seemed a bit far from the reality of his situation. He was surly, mopey, easily startled, and didn't want to be touched. He even went so far as to shove my hand away when I went to pet him. Then he'd turn around and curl up in my lap. I wanted so much to connect with him, but he just seemed so out-of-kilter.

He seemed pretty affable toward the other dogs, though, and I thought he might be the one dog in the shelter who could keep up with Joker, a rowdy, fun-loving, athletic, and very bored dog who many of the volunteers are quite fond of. At first, it was a little tense... and then ensued a twenty-minute wrestling match of epic proportions which left both Joker and Homer panting, content, and grinning like idiots the whole way back to the kennels. It was the difference between "doggie jail" and "home."

A kennel isn't Homer's happy place, but it seems everywhere else is. He's vivacious, energetic, cuddly, attentive and gentle - and honestly, none of that is gilding the lily. Watching him roll around on the ground for tummy rubs, bound back-and-forth between Sophie and I because he couldn't decide which of us was more fun at the moment... I found myself thinking, This. This is exactly what a Pit Bull is supposed to be.

Between his sparkling personality and his velvety brindle coat, I kept thinking of Tige, the famous Pit Bull sidekick of Buster Brown. Honestly, if we had the resources and room, Homer would be sitting at home with us right now, likely thwacking an eager paw on my keyboard in an effort to help me with the blog.

It isn't often we run across a dog who'll run pell-mell across the playpen when you call, only to slam on the brakes and nuzzle or hop up and wait for you to catch his paws and snuggle him. Nor does every dog seem equally at ease romping like a maniac, then flopping down next to you for some quality hang-out time. Homer seems to be game for whatever you are, with enthusiasm and affection to spare. And I never would have guessed it, just watching him sulk all alone in his kennel.

UPDATE (12/24): Although tentatively "earmarked" for a rescue group, Homer wasn't picked up yesterday. He'll be spending Christmas in the shelter, along with Hershey and so many other dogs. At least they aren't out in the snow, foraging for whatever they can eat - but I still wish they were all somewhere warm, loving, and smelling like "home" to them.

UPDATE (12/28): Finally! Homer gets one step closer to having a home of his own - he was picked up today by a rescue group, and I couldn't be happier!
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Hershey

When Hershey first came into the shelter, I was on my way out with another dog. His owner spun him around and pressed him against the wall, indicating that I should keep the other dog away (I went out another exit). Apparently, there had been an "incident" with Hershey and another dog, and no one wanted a repeat performance.

I'll be the first to admit, it takes a lot to convince me that a dog is "just bad." I don't always agree with Cesar Millan, but I do think he's spot-on when he says that the overwhelming majority of dog problems are based in their environment (and particularly the humans that interact with them). Thus far, Hershey hasn't betrayed my optimism for him.

He's no perfect little puppy, of course - at a modest 93 pounds, he's used to doing what he wants, when he wants to do it. Hershey's pretty sharp, though, and he seems to be getting the hang of this "dog/human teamwork" thing quite well. When it came time to weigh him, he climbed right up onto the scale and waited patiently... and then stepped back down, paused, and on again when we realized that we'd forgotten to turn the scale on. All the while, he was just happy for the attention.

In fact, attention is one thing I think Hershey is needing desperately. It took quite a while - and quite a lot of brushing - to make an appreciable difference in the gritty, oily, dander-crusted mess that was his coat. He didn't seem to mind a bit, which made a nice change from trying to brush our rowdy and grooming-shy dog, Rufus. Hershey's elbows and hocks were scuffed and skinned up, and his collar was pretty filthy - despite still having the plastic price-tag hanger attached to it. I got the impression that someone was in a bit of a rush when they put it on him, long ago.

We gingerly tested his bad reputation with other dogs, starting with an adorable (and pregnant) beagle named Savannah. (She's available too! Hint, hint...) Their conversation seemed to consist mostly of:

"Wow, you're big."
"Yep. You're kinda' small, aren't you?"
"Hey, I got buns in the oven. See? Wow. You're big."
"Er, thanks."

No tension, no drama. A good start. Next we brought out Homer, a male Pit Bull Terrier. No problems at all when they met, although Homer really wanted to romp around and Hershey wasn't overly keen on puppy antics. He did, however, want to go out and walk around. When Homer marked a pillar, Hershey casually sniffed it and moved on - apparently, he's secure enough in his doghood to not feel compelled to "over-mark" other males. There was one moment of tension when another puppy was brought outside, and Homer took the opportunity to get up in Hershey's face. A low growl ensued, and we decided that a break from the happy-go-luckyness was in order.

Later, when the vet was taking Hershey out of his kennel, there was a brief moment of alarm when he and Miller lunged at each other through the kennel door. He backed down as soon as he was reprimanded for it, and I got a visible cringe from him when I put a rebuking finger on his nose (which seemed a bit of an over-reaction to a "hush" command). After getting his weigh-in and check-out, I took him back to his kennel. No problem passing Savannah's kennel, or Joker (another adolescent male), or Homer. As soon as we reached Miller, though, the retriever was at his door, barking and bristling. Hershey tensed up, but relaxed again when I told him to leave it alone. He acted up once more, growling when I had moved between the two dogs - and again dropped the drama when told to.

I'm not sure if Hershey's issues with other dogs are simply testosterone-based (he's 6 years old, and not neutered), or if it's a wayward side-effect of his guarding instincts (all three times he got agitated, there was a person between him and another confident, male dog). For now, he'll need supervision when around other dogs, and a lot of good, old-fashioned training. Personally, I'd love to see him rescued by a group that specializes in German Shepherds, who can re-direct his lonliness, frustration, and tenseness to more satisfying, challenging outlets.

As I said before, I tend to give dogs the benefit of the doubt. I don't doubt for a minute that Hershey would unhesitatingly end any fight brought to him. There aren't many dogs that I've seen with quite so much desperate affection in their eyes, either. He's a bit of a fixer-upper, perhaps, but my gut tells me that he might be well worth the effort, and then some.

UPDATE (12/29): As Tajana and Almir pointed out, Hershey was rescued today! He's made so much progress since he came into the shelter, I have little doubt that he'll earn himself a permanent place in someone's heart - and family - soon.
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Miller

We didn't get much of a chance to get to know Miller - while we were out in the play yard with him, a rescue volunteer was on her way to pick him up. What we did get to see of him was both impressive and a little bit frustrating.

As dogs go, Flat-Coated Retrievers are some of the most elegant-looking out there. Miller's certainly no exception, and he's gifted with show-dog poise and grace on top of that. He doesn't so much run as float, and he carries his flag-like tail high and proudly. And... that's part of the worrisome bit.

There's usually no way for us to know what kind of life the dogs at the shelter led before they wound up here. But it would be a pretty plausible guess that he was bought as a cute puppy, turned into a cute (and far less tractable) adolescent a couple of months later, and was simply not given any attention from that point on. He's affable, but unconcerned with people, and his dog-to-dog conversational skills seem... er, lacking. I don't speak canine, but whatever he's been saying to the dogs in the surrounding kennels hasn't endeared him to the other guys on the kennel block.

Fortunately, he's going to a first-rate rescue group, who will get him up to speed on the socialization he missed out on earlier in life. Which is a great thing; it shouldn't take much to turn Miller from the gorgeous but aloof adolescent he is into the gorgeous and much-loved dog he should have been all along.

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