It’s that time of year again- where people decide the best thing to put under their tree is a puppy. A box with holes and little yipping sounds and a big bow. And the kids FREAK out.
And every mom knows their rug is doomed. And they will be the ones picking up after and taking care of the little terrorist with puppy breath and razor teeth.
I’m going to urge you all, all of you who think a dog is the right gift, to go to an animal shelter or rescue organization and adopt a dog.
And I am going to tell you this because of Boomer.
We didn’t rescue him from a traditional rescue organization. He was listed on Facebook, by a friend of my sister’s. She’d made a comment about her mom being in the hospital and her two jobs taking too much time. He wasn’t getting the attention he needed or deserved. She called him “Buster.” And said she’d sell him to the right home for $300.
We went to look. I was nervous, struggling with pretty bad depression, had a blowout fight with my college roommate that ended our friendship completely, and I wasn’t sure I needed the added responsibility of an animal.
He ran around the yard like he’d been sprung from jail. 7 months old, he was really skinny. HE sniffed my parents and sister while I went and sat on the steps and observed. He took a few minutes and then he rocketed over to me, placed both paws on my shoulders and licked me to death.
Dogs choose you.
“J” went inside to write out a receipt of payment, because, “even if we can’t keep him. There is no way in hell I am letting him stay here,” my mom said. And she was right. While he was crate trained and could sit on command. He was frighteningly skinny, he averaged 18 hours in a crate a day, and the only shot “J” had proof of was the rabies shot given by a local mobile clinic. He was 7 months old with no other puppy shots.
We got in the car and took him home with us. Stopping at Walmart for a massive crate, new collar and dog food.
I told him he was “Boomer” and I would take care of him.
He nearly died the next day because he ate the amount of food he was supposed to. It took two days before he was on his feet again, our Vet had come out and said that he was 35 lbs. under weight, had no puppy shots, had not been fed properly. She said to report it as animal abuse. And I did. Especially when I found out this owning a dog and then damaging them after they grew out of puppy stage was a trend for this monster.
He was terrified of the crate and wouldn’t go in it on his own for 7 full months. The day he went in on his own and layed down while we had dinner had us all bawling.
Men with talkative hands had him peeing himself. If they got near him or his face, he’d cower and curl in a ball. Women with dark hair like “J” caused the same reaction.
He’s never bitten us. Not once. He doesn’t fight back when the other dogs gang up on him to play. He looks mildly terrified and just tries to come back inside.
He turned four in November, and I have moved into a new house. I came home to find he’d chewed a package open. Something he hasn’t done since the first week we had him. I told him he was a bad dog, confusion in my voice more than anything. He cowered on the floor and peed himself and looked at me with terrified eyes.
And I sat on that floor with him and bawled my eyes out because in the 3 years and 5 months he has been mine, he has never, ever been hurt. And yet he still has so much fear.
I hate her for that. I hate her so much that if I saw her on the street I would beat her until the sight of red hair would cause her the same terror that “bad dog” causes Boomer. I would want her to pee herself in public, because she deserves it.
Animals are like babies. They have bind trust in their human to take care of them, they love unconditionally, always forgive and always come back for more. They are defenseless and require you to treat them right. They rely on YOU. And the fact that someone could take a small and defenseless puppy, one with such a big heart and kind soul, and create that kind of fear, is disgusting. That kind of human deserves no mercy.
But those dogs do. So go to a shelter and look. Look for the kind eyes and the wide-eyed fear that they will never get a real home. Take into consideration that their relief to be in a real home and to truly be loved will outweigh any messes on the carpet. Don’t just pick up a cute puppy at the pet store, but make a difference to your life and theirs with an adoption.
Do it for Boomer. Do it to spite the “J’s” of this world. Do it because monsters don’t get to win.