The Scares to Prove It

As I pour a cup of warm water over his back for the bath, I see the massive burn scars on his head, neck, and back. I use oatmeal shampoo because I know his skin is sensitive and drys out quicker then it should without a full coat of fur. I massage the shampoo onto his tiny body and he stands still with his big brown eyes staring at me for comfort. Wally is terrified. He hates baths. He hates the pop-up tub stopper, the running water, being confined in a tub--the list goes on. But he is patient and trusting and we make it through the 15 minute ordeal without any problems. I cuddle him in a towel as I am drying him off and he leans into my chest.

Wally was four years old when he was rescued from a puppy mill in southwest Missouri. He was a breeding dog and, but for the rescue, would have likely ended up starved or shot once he stopped doing his job. His burn scars, deformed gait, hacked and scared ears (from a home ear crop job), and deformed toe nails show the story of his early life. He was raised in a suspended wire crate and abused by his owners. I won't go into his entire life story here, but suffice it to say, he has been through a lot at the hands of humans and has the scars to prove it.

And yet, he leans into me as I dry him off, looks to me for comfort as warm water drips from his belly, and patiently waits--trusting that the noises that frighten him are not a threat because I am there.

Thankfully, when we adopted Wally, I had an army of amazingly experienced animal people around me. My time volunteering at the shelter and for animal legislation groups paid off. They took my many calls, calmed my fears, and taught me how to communicate with an intensely frightened, and at times aggressive, dog. They encouraged me, gave me amazing advice, and gave me confidence. They taught me to touch him gently as much as possible to let him know people touching him know would only be a good thing. They taught me to be patient, firm, and forgiving as he learned a new way of life. After almost 9 years, he still is a fearful dog in many ways, but he has come so far, and has taught us so much about love, trust, and never giving up. He has every reason to never let his guard down, to make owning him a constant struggle, demonstrating to us the damage humans can do. But he doesn't. He braves his fears and plays with us even when the toy squeaks and startles him, he calmly takes baths even though he finds it scary, and he goes on walks even though sometimes they can be overwhelming for him. He trust us. In return we give him love, toys, soft blankets, grilled chicken :)....anything we think will make him happy. It is not enough. How do you convey to a dog that he softened your heart? How do you convey to a dog that he taught you it is better to forgive, trust, and not give up on others? How do you convey how deeply grateful you are that he has allowed you to bring him out of his frightened shell? That he has taught you how to be a better person?

Maybe you never do, but I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to try.

[Out of respect for people scrolling through, I chose a picture for this story where Wally's hair is long and covers his scars and deformed ears as I know many people have trouble seeing things like that.]