Trixie the Shelter Dog

It was a day, just like any other, busy on the run, supplies on a list that needed to be picked up and an empty tank of gas.

We stopped at a gas station, when out of nowhere we heard a voice saying, "Do you want a dog? She’s in the back of my taxi – I don’t want her anymore. Anyone want a puppy?!"

Well needless to say, those kind of words get our attention.

A taxi driver had her and was on his way to the SPCA to "get rid of her".

He was openly upset that the pup was chewing, ripping, eating, urinating and having bowel movements in his home, while he was gone 12-14 hours a day working!

"Gone 12-14 hours a day" – with a pup left alone in the house!

I asked to see her and I damn near wanted to put my hands around his throat as it was, but when I seen her, I scowled at him – I was that mad.

She laid on the floor in the back of his cab, her ears down, tears in her eyes, in a puddle of pee and when I picked her up, her back right leg was kinda hanging.

It was broken, so I looked at him and said "You kicked her didn’t you!?" and he tried to remove the pup and told me to get away. I then somewhat threatened him with the fact that he would get charged at the SPCA once they saw her condition and told him what I did and that he best leave as fast as possible before I got his plate and called the SPCA myself. So he left mumbling under his breath!

I placed her in a box in our backseat while my daughter nestled in beside her. Then off we sped to the Vet.

We sat and waited for the x-ray results and sure enough, her leg was broken in two places. She required immediate surgery to set her leg and a pin to hold her leg in place. The Vet figured she wasn’t more than 10-12 weeks old.

I remember thinking "o.m.g. – another $800. – I wasn’t planning on spending that much today!" but figured that a higher power must have placed us there at that time, for a reason. That reason being, she needed to be rescued.

I gave the ok and we left to run errands. Once our errands were done, we headed back to the Vet to see how her surgery had went. We were allowed to see her, she was all out of whack, but she knew we were there and she settled her head on my hand. We stayed for an hour until she dosed back off.

After the first month we had her home, I was considering on making attempts to find this girl a new home, however, she carried on with her habit of chewing everything my daughter and I touched.

Everything! The tv electric cord, sunglasses, shoes and more shoes – she’d even begun urinating on things that had our scent.

In tears my 16 yr old daughter sat with me, having purchased the 6th pair of shoes (with her own money she worked for) to replace the others the dog had eaten (so I wouldn’t find out). This atop of everything else she had destroyed or urinated on, only told me that the dog was not happy and I assumed it was with us.

On a couple of occasions I was so angry I had scolded her to no end, then it dawned on me, that even though there was someone at home with her all the time, she was accustomed to being scolded to get attention. Being – bad – was the only way she knew how to get attention.

Starting the very next day, when she chewed my sunglasses that I put down to go to the washroom, I snapped my fingers, pushed her to her bed and everytime she moved, I snapped my fingers and pointed to her bed. I never made eye contact and I never spoke a word to her she only got throat responses and finger pointing, while I went about my business. When my daughter got home from school, I told her about the new game plan and how we were going to make one last attempt at helping the dog have a change of heart. Afterall, buddy did break her leg and she needed more than medical attention, she needed understanding to make her see life had changed – for the better.

Over the next few days, she did minor things and she got the same reaction. The ONLY time we spoke to her, was when she did her business outside – then she got pure praise and pats for a few minutes in approval of good behavior. When back in the house, she was treated with silence.

By the end of that week, the dog had already begun to change. No shoes were eaten, nothing was urinated on, no wires were chewed and she’d get excited to hear herself called "a good girl". From that week on, she never repeated the same actions she did in the first month, nor did we change our treatment with her. She grew to know what to expect and knew she’d get no attention, no eye contact or sound of our voices when she was bad.

Trixie Girl was adopted out at 6 yrs old. She had more character than you could shake a stick at – she needed a home that her character would be appreciated and not squashed so it took some time to place her accordingly. She hated men, disliked adults and l-o-v-e-d children! Her tiny frame was more like a terrier but her coloring and markings were that of a Rotweiller and in her heart, she thought she was a big watch dog.

An artist acquaintance came by to assist me on a project, a man in his late 30’s and after her hair raising on her back, sniffing and being scolded, she finally allowed him to pat her.

The project lasted a month, so the artist was there frequently and Trixie finally took a liking to him. So much so, that to my surprise, she hopped into his car one day when he was leaving. This brought about the question " Can I take her home and see how this works out?"

I was stunned, her reaction was unexpected and with teary eyes, I said "Sure – see how it goes"

He called me the next day to report that he’d allowed her to hop on the bed with him to sleep and that she was following him like a shadow. So I asked if he wanted to keep her longer and her assured me he’d keep her forever if she kept up her good behavior.

Seeing that he was an artist, he spent most of his time at home working, painting and creating, so I knew that she wouldn’t be left unattended and as someone who appreciated the beauty of life, he’d be a good companion to her and vise versa.

I wasn’t wrong either. She never did come back to the shelter, she stayed with the artist and the two became best of friends, going everywhere together.

We bumped into them one day and she jumped and swirled to see us! I was concerned that she’d attempt to get into our car, but no, when it came time, he said to her "Come on Love, let’s get going" and off she ran to his truck.

As he went to turn and leave, I grabbed him, hugged him and said "thank you – we don’t see happy endings like this too often."

My heart knew they were meant for one another and who could ask for more?!

till next time

Animals Alone Society of Kindness Services – www.animals-alone.com