[ SHOWGSD-L ] Who Are You? Where do You Come From?
- From: Stephen Reierstad <wmj1944@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: Showgsd-l <showgsd-l@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Tue, 24 Oct 2006 18:05:12 -0700 (PDT)
Who Are You? Where do You Come From?
by Steve Reierstad
You are curled up in your Dog bed next to my Desk, sleeping without a care in
the World. Somehow, you know that now you're finally in your Forever Home,
with people who will always love you and take care of you. You sense that THIS
Home is permanent, with no more being uprooted to start over yet again with
strangers in an unfamiliar place.
Every so often you open your eyes and look up at me. In those deep brown
eyes I see complete Trust, unfailing Loyalty, and the Unconditional Love that
only a dog can give. Sometimes you give your Cat (who thinks he's a German
Shepherd and shares your Bed with you) a quick sniff, then settle back to
sleep, secure in knowing that all around you is well.
So often I ask, Who Are You? Where do You Come From?
The people I got you from knew your name is Reba. That's what the people at
the Boarding Kennel in Texas, where you were abandoned by your first (?) Owner,
told them. Beyond that, they didn't know much about you. You were to be
boarded for a few days while your Owner was "on a Business Trip." He never
came back to claim you. You aren't Microchipped, and if you have Papers, we
don't know about them. The Boarding Kennel people said you are "about 3," but
they didn't know your Birth Date. I gave you one, April 4 - the date I brought
you home with me.
Your Bloodlines are pretty obviously German. More than that, we just don't
know. You're healthy, but still I keep an Eagle Eye out for any sign of a
Genetic Health Issue. Your former people said you were healthy. I hope
they're right.
But Who Are You? Where do You Come From?
When I got the call from our Vet about a German Shepherd that a couple needed
to place, something inside me told me you'd be coming home, even before I
called your People. They told me about bringing you to Maine from Texas. They
said their House (2-room Mobile Home) was too small for you. They told me how
their 3-year old Son would be starting School in the Fall. They told me about
their 2-year-old Daughter's Grand Mal Epilepsy and how her medical needs
prevented them spending "quality Time" with you. Somehow, I think there was a
lot more to it. You were close to the kids; when you see small children now,
you are very attentive and wistful, and I know you still miss "your" children.
I hope your People didn't tell you, as they told me, that if they couldn't get
someone to take you soon, they'd have to send you to "The Shelter." The one
for this County is a Kill Shelter. No way were you going there.
You did your job of protecting your Home and Family when I came to meet you.
You barked a while, then stood squarely between me and the Children while their
Mother told me how they found out (by accident) that you only understood
German, and that you'd obviously been abused, most likely by a "Man." They
were right about that. When I first brought you home, you would cringe and
cower down if I moved my hand suddenly, but not when my wife did it. Now when
I move my hand, you try to search it for a hidden Treat or playfully mouth it
by way of asking for a pat. I wonder if someone who didn't know what he was
doing tried to train you for Schutzhund and thought he needed to make you
"mean" to be competitive. You have a first-rate nose for Tracking, and now
that I've learned some German Commands, I think you could win an Obedience
Title. I won't test your Bitework after the reception you gave the Creep who
showed up in the Driveway at 7 A. M. trying to grub a drink from
me....
And still I wonder, Who Are You? Where Do You Come From?
It didn't take you long to fit into the Routine in the Pack. You learned to
trust me very quickly, even though the first thing I did when I got you home
was to eradicate the evidence of your encounter with a Skunk the night before.
You took a while to get used to the fenced-in yard; at your old place you ran
loose sometimes, when you slipped your Chain, and several times nearly got hit
on the road. It wasn't long before you stopped cowering away from me when I'd
curse at the Computer because the (expensive) High-Speed Cable Connection was
crawling barely above dial-up speed. Now when it happens you put your head in
my Lap, looking up at me with those soulful eyes, trying to get me to relax.
The first two weeks or so after you came home with me, when I'd walk into the
room, you would roll over on your Back, Ears flattened, Eyes averted, the
picture of abject submissiveness. Now, even if I've only been out of the room
a few minutes, when I come in you grab my Hand, flop down on your back with all
four Paws waving, "talking" to me and smiling in anticipation of your
Chest-and-Tummy Rub. You've gotten to look forward to your Grooming Session
now, where before, you used to shy away from the Brush. And your Nail-Trim?
Well, we won't go there.
But always the Question: Who Are You? Where Do You Come From?
I'll never know the things that were done to you in the Past, what you went
through. It's probably better that I don't know. But I can guess, though, and
it must have been pretty ugly. Some remnants of it are still there. You guard
your food very carefully, although you let me move your Dish while you're
eating if I have to. (Starved? Maybe.) You're not really Dog-Aggressive, but
you don't want other dogs too near you. (Bullied by other dogs? Possibly.) You
don't like anyone in Uniform; the regular UPS guy refuses to deliver here after
the episode with the Screen in the Office this Summer. (K-9 or Military
training that was done wrong? Perhaps.)
But I'd rather concentrate on Now, and what I see now is that you've
positively Blossomed. You've taken a permanent place in the Pack. You try to
herd the Cats, just like the other dogs do. Every time there's a Howl, your
Voice is right there with the rest of them. You're always one of the first to
alert to a stranger, and you're as eager as the rest of the Pack for your Walk
or your Ride in the Car.
You have become the Dog you were meant to be, and now I think I know the
Answer to the first part of my recurrent Question: Who Are You? You are why I
rescue. Along with Baby, Magenta, Elyse (the Great Pyr you don't particularly
like), and Joseph and Brandi (re-homed), you are why I try to let other GSD
people know about GSD's needing Rescue, Fostering, or a Permanent Home. You
are here to remind me that other dogs are in Dire Straits and need a Person to
take their Part and step in for them.
As for Where Do You Come From?, I'll probably never know the Answer to that.
You were adopted in Texas and eventually found your way to your permanent Home
in Maine. That's the Short Answer, but somehow, I believe there's more, much
more to it than that. Maybe someday I'll figure it out. What counts now,
though, is that you're here, where you belong.
A Post Script:
I mentioned that the little girl in the family I got Reba from suffers from
Grand Mal Epilepsy. Reba has a Special Talent: She alerts 30-45 minutes before
a Grand Mal Seizure. Her previous people told me this, and despite my telling
them that Reba could one day save their Daughter's Life, they were going to
send her to a Kill Shelter. I feel sorry for the little girl.
Steve
Visit Two Feathers German Shepherds online at http://www.wmj1944.com
Website updated 9/3/2006.
"If you invite the Wolf to Dinner, then don't get mad when he eats something."
- Unknown
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