As a teenager I had a beautiful sable Sheltie named Abby which I loved very much. After several years together my mother gave her away because she barked too much. I never forgave my mother for separating me from my best friend. About twenty-five years later my wife surprised me with an early Christmas gift of a tricolor Sheltie she bought from a dog rescue group named Circle Tail. I was secretly a bit disappointed in my gift as I felt his black colors were not beautiful like my sweet Abby. Still he was little and cute, with little pink foot pads. Maybe I could adapt. Shelties have incredible hearing which is the reason they are trained as service dogs to work with hearing impaired individuals. Due to extreme anxiety this particular Sheltie had flunked out and was put up for rescue. My wife had him two weeks on approval. I immediately named him Max after the Grinch's dog. I am a huge dog person and have had one almost every day of my life. You've seen strange people like me before. I feed my dogs snacks at the meal table, hold serious conversations with them, teach them to recognize lots of words, buy treats for them, sleep with them and take them almost everywhere I go. I latch on to them instantly. However, this dog was different. Max bluntly refused to let me hold or even touch him. He refused any and all food including beef, chicken and cheese. Rebuffing trips outside to potty, I would need to carry him out and then walk away so he could do his business in private. Noises greatly scared him including the rustling of plastic bags, snapping of twigs or rattling of dinner plates. A metal pan falling onto the tiled kitchen floor would almost send him into cardiac arrest. Whenever we tried to take his photo he would look away (see photo above). He preferred to spend his time hiding behind furniture. I tried my darnedest to get Max to bond with me, but he lived in his own little world of disquiet and panic. Exasperated at the end of the two week approval period I gave up on Max and decided to return him to Circle Tail. It was in those last few hours we had together that I finally spotted a glimmer of something. To this day I am really not sure what it was, but it was enough to give me hope. The road ahead was not easy and was full of plenty of setbacks and obstacles. Eventually, Max attached himself to me with an unquestionable loyalty. For example, when I returned home from a two-week stay in the hospital following extensive cancer surgery Max refused to leave my side for five straight weeks, twenty-four hours a day. My time with Max ultimately produced a mutually beneficial relationship, I learned patience while he learned trust and love. I can't imagine my life without him. 12/17/09 |
