Toronto German Shepherd Rescue

You brought me home in your arms when I was just a tiny pup. You loved my puppy antics, and I made You laugh. I was "your girl", You used to say. I ate your shoes, or ripped the pillows -- and You'd shake your finger, laugh, and say: How could you? - and we would be friends again, and I would get my belly-rub. You understood that I was just a baby and I loved You for that.

I do remember those perfect nights of nuzzling your face in bed. I listened to your worries and secret hopes, kissing the tears off your face, supporting all your dreams.

We shared our daily walks and runs in the park, car rides, and swimming in the lake. We played ball together, and shared the popcorn in front of big screen TV. Warm and content, I took long naps in the sun, waiting for You to come home at the end of the day. I knew that life could not be more perfect than that.

Then slowly, your hours away became longer; You worked hard on your career, and spend more time with your human friends. I waited every day patiently; to comfort You through your heartbreaks and disappointments, to approve of every decision You were making. I greeted with joy your every homecoming, and I was happy when You fell in love.

She, your wife, was not a "dog person" - still, I welcomed her into our home, showing her affection, and respect. I was happy because You were happy. When human babies came along, I shared your excitement. I was curious, and concerned when they cried. I wanted to mother them, too. But she, their mother, worried that I might hurt them, I was just a big hairy thing to her. She would complain about the dog hair around and muddy footprints in the kitchen. Soon, I got banished to a back room. When I cried, to remind You I was there, You said: How could you? and put me in a garage.

By then, You did not carry my photos in your wallet any more to proudly show around when telling others about us. I was not "your girl" anymore --I became "just a dog",

And then the day came for a big decision; to move to a better town. "It is best for the family", You said.

I was so excited to be together again, going for a car ride. When we arrived, it smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, and desperation. You filled out the paperwork and said: "Please, find a good home for her, too bad we can't take her with us". You gave me a last pat on the head, and left quickly without looking back. Perhaps, You did not want to find How could you? in my eyes; just maybe, I want to believe, You wanted to hide the tears in yours.

Ladies in the shelter were nice to me. They fed me, of course, but I was not hungry. Every time the lock rattled, I got excited, hoping it was You - that You had changed your mind - that this was the end of a nightmare... With time, I was just hoping that it would be someone, anyone who cared, anyone who would take me home, far from this sad and desperate place. The time came when I knew that no one was coming for me. Visitors were choosing the youngsters to take home with them and rarely responded to my friendly smiles. Finally, I understood that I was just an old dog that had nothing of value left to share with anyone. I curled at the back of my cage to dream of our times together when I still had so much to give, and we were both so happy together.

I hardly heard her footsteps when she came for me at the end of one day. With tiny shred of hope still flickering in my heart, I followed her along the hallway to a room in the back - a clean and blissfully quiet room. She rubbed my ears, telling me not to worry and the last flicker of hope was gone, I knew instantly why I was there.

I looked in lady's face and there were tears in her eyes. I started to worry about her; I wanted to comfort her the way I used to comfort You. With the kiss, which she allowed me to give her; I wanted to make her feel better. I was sorry that I made her cry.

She hugged me, and still crying a bit she told me it was time for me to go to a better place, where no dog is neglected, or hurt, or abandoned, or unwanted - a place of love and light, a very happy place. Then I felt the gentle prickle in my leg and felt cool liquid flowing through my body. With the last bit of strength, I was telling her with a wag of the tip of my tail what to tell You if You ever change your mind and come back looking for me - I don't want You to worry; I want You to know that I will wait for You at a Rainbow Bridge, so You won't have to cross the Bridge alone.

Maybe she did not understand, because the last thing I heard, was her soft whisper: How could you?

The End

This morning my German Shepherd Rescue (Ohio, USA) partner Deb, received a call from one of our adoptive homes (they adopted two boys from us, both had been my foster boys). The call started out with, "Deb, Jerry (the first boy they adopted) just saved our lives and our home."

It seems Jerry woke his "mom" up this morning acting very strange, she let him out, that's not what he wanted, let him back in and he ran to their son's bedroom, laid on the bed and barked. She took her son and put him in bed with dad (still sleeping) feeling something was wrong, she just didn't know what. She went back to her son's room and Jerry continued to bark and carry on, she could find no reason for his actions but felt he was trying to tell her something. . . Jerry continued barking and barking, so she stayed on her guard. She kept going back into her son's room and during one of her checks, discovered his comforter on fire.

Because of Jerry, they were able to get the children and all the pets out of the house and were able to put out the fire before anyone was hurt, or the home destroyed.

This is a story to help put a rescue's frazzled emotions back together.. . . . . . . . a once unwanted shelter dog is now A FAMILY'S HERO!

Jan

P.S. Jerry is quite a boy. . . his family fell in love with him even before they met him. His placement was one of those "God sent".
Little history..... Jerry came out of a shelter in October he was about 10 mos old and a BIG boy at that age. Deb, my "partner in crime", knew a family, that had lost their shepherd but "she" wasn't sure she was ready to adopt again "yet". As Deb was telling me about the family and the "mom" that wasn't ready to adopt, this strange feeling came over me "this is her dog".
Every call I received just wasn't the right home for him... this went on for 4 weeks, Jerry wasn't moving. Finally, Doris consented to meet Jerry... three days later he went home with them.....
God said he was her dog and we just had to wait for her to hear Him.