WE NEEDED HER AS MUCH AS SHE NEEDED US
It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since we lost our beautiful Reese. Her absence was overwhelming for all of us.
I adore my boys, and was certainly grateful to have them to come home to, and shower with requited love and affection. Less than a month after losing Reese, I met the most fantastic mama for my foster cat, Isabella. Yay! Of course, I was happy Isa would finally, after more than a year, have her forever home. I would miss her terribly, though. I was her foster mom, and she had bonded with me. On those evenings, when I would sit on the sofa and cry over Reese, Isa would come and sit with me. What would I do without my girls?
I just could not!
Almost six months later, my husband and I were ready to consider rescuing another dog in need. The dynamics had shifted considerably, and I so desperately wanted another little girl.
I had forgotten how emotionally draining the process of reviewing adoption profiles could be. Every day, more heartbreaking stories of how humans have let down these beautiful beings. Stories of neglect, abuse, irresponsible breeders/millers, or people that just couldn’t be bothered with all that is necessary to own a pet. This, in addition to the heartbreak of losing Reese was almost too much to bear.
I WANTED TO RESCUE THEM ALL!
…and then there was you.
The meet and greet went very well. Initially, I met Rosie and her foster mom before returning to our vehicle to assist my husband with the boys. Rosie ran to the door to welcome Henry. They were face to face, both tails wagging ecstatically. Jack joined the party, and everyone seemed happy.
This cute bundle of fiery red curls was a ball of energy; the boys could barely keep up with her playfulness. I was hopeful that Henry would become more energetic around Rosie and that she and Jack would play together.
I cuddled Rosie on my lap during our ride home. She curled right into my arm and remained there for the duration. When we arrived at the house, she excitedly explored the house, escorted by her new brothers. It seemed as if the boys were giving her a tour of her new home and welcoming her.
Initially, Rosie was my ‘Velcro’ dog. She would follow me EVERYWHERE. She still wants to know where I am at all times; however, she has become more independent and will occasionally charge up the stairs to join Jack on our family bed. Rosie looks at me momentarily before doing so, as if to say ‘I’ll be upstairs if you need to find me for a cuddle.’ Sometimes, she even goes to bed on her own. It’s wonderful to see rescue dogs, from horrific backgrounds, find their confidence and flourish into trusting self-assured beings.
We did, for obvious reasons, consider a name change. Rosie, however, responded to her name, and clearly, it does suit her.
Although the names are similar, and yes, I have called Rosie, Reese, many times, Rosie is very different from Reese (repeat that sentence five times, fast).
Rosie was rescued from a Korean meat farm/puppy mill. Although blind in her right eye, believed to be the result of trauma, Rosie is mostly confident and moves full speed ahead. Often-times bumping into things or tripping over things along the way. Her impairment gives her no reason for pause. Nor does the fact that Rosie needed to have several teeth removed due to neglect, mean she can’t enjoy treats. Boy, does she enjoy treats!
The names, being bred for stock, missing teeth, and love of treats and toys are the end of the similarities between my girls. If I were to compare Reese’s demure, classy manner to Audrey Hepburn, I would have to call Rosie, our Lucille Ball. Fiery, energetic, and not at all graceful. Rosie has us in fits of laughter with her comedic timing. For example, just as I moved a throw cushion, Rosie jumped onto the sofa, and sort-of bounced off that cushion. She landed on her feet, gave herself a little shake, and jumped right back up.
If Rosie is resting comfortably, and something catches her attention, her head pops up, and she is on full alert (for about two seconds). Upon realizing there is no threat, she drops her head, as if weighted, right back to the exact positioning. Imagine pressing fast-forward and rewind (head up, head down, head up, head down).
And that smile! The fact that she’s missing several teeth gives her the most adorable, crooked grin.
It feels good to laugh again. My heart, though still tender, is once again full
As well as making my husband and I laugh, Rosie has helped Jack become more courageous. Perhaps also more mischievous. Henry loves them both – even though he pretends to be in a constant state of annoyance with them.
Rosie prefers women. This note, as well as ‘does not like men’ (full stop), is quite commonly listed on rescue pet profiles. Especially, those of mill dogs. It breaks my heart to imagine the neglect and abuse suffered at the hands of the millers.
My husband seems to be the exception. Every fearful and neglected case we have brought home: permanently, or to foster, have slowly warmed to, and end up loving him.
Patience pays off. That is especially true in the world of rescue and the process of rehabilitation.
After several months, Miss Rosie is showing a fondness for daddy, and I know he is secretly delighted. Up until now, he would use terms such as ‘your dog’ and ‘mommy’s suck.’ My husband patiently waited for her to realize how wonderful he is and refers to his ‘baby girl’ with much affection (and several nicknames).
One year later, after what seems like no time, I am happy to return to writing. I look forward to sharing with you any new findings and stories to which fellow pet-parents may: relate, find fun, useful, and hopefully, a few that will warm your hearts.
Stay tuned for more about our cheeky little redhead, Rosie.