How to Give a Shelter Dog a New Life

Warning: they will break your heart and fill it at the same time

“He’s a submissive pee-er — good luck with that,” the vet tech said as he handed my newly adopted dog over to me, and as if on cue, Colonel looked at my son and peed. I had a lot of trepidation about adopting another dog, especially this guy who seemed to have a number of black marks against him. I didn’t know if I was making the right decision and now I walked to my car with visions of pee-filled carpets and more work on my already full plate.

It all started with a boring summer day when my son asked if we could go to the shelter to “just look around.”

Pro tip: there’s no such thing for dog lovers as “just looking around” at the shelter. You’re going to find someone to fall in love with.

In the parking lot, as we got out of the car, he asked, “If there’s a Labradoodle puppy here can we get him?”

“Sure,” I answered, knowing that designer puppies like Labradoodles and Goldendoodles don’t end up at the county animal shelter. I kept my generous mom status without having to commit to anything — yay me.

Keeping my promise

But, there he was in cage #1 curled up with a Bassett Hound puppy. He was the cutest dog I had ever laid eyes on. He looked like a Wheaten Terrier with golden, wavy hair and almost human-like facial expressions. We walked down a few cages and found an adult female Labradoodle. What the heck, I wondered as the cosmic universe chuckled and reminded me of the promise I had made a few minutes earlier.

We inquired about both dogs and found out that the golden puppy and his Bassett Hound friend were brothers who came in with their mom, the designer Labradoodle. Mom had somehow ended up with a Bassett Hound lover and then wound up homeless with her two pups. They were picked up as strays and despite the fact that the pups were about four months old they had still been nursing from mom. This little family had been on their own for a while and mom had done an admirable job keeping her pups alive. But barely.

Colonel, as our golden-haired boy came to be called, was sick, weak, covered in ticks and fleas, and apathetic for a puppy — not a good sign. Mom had already been chosen by another family so we asked to visit with the golden boy. We sat with him as he lay lethargic in the grass. We picked ticks off him and talked about if he was right for our family. The green snot rolling down his nose alerted me to infection and I could feel his ribs under his fluffy coat. For a puppy, he had little energy so I worried how sick he was and if I was going to incur elaborate vet bills that would stretch our already recession-affected budget.

Still, he was adorable and I had promised my son we would adopt a Labradoodle puppy if we found one — and here he was.

I signed the papers hoping I wasn’t adding a lot of stress to my already stress-filled life. Leap first, look later seemed to be the energy I was running on that day.

Tackling things one at a time

Colonel did have a lot of problems but the submissive peeing ended on day one. He was so happy to have a home and super smart (thanks to the poodle and lab mix) that I completely potty trained him in two days. Hurdle one out of the way.

Colonel hated cages. I mean he almost killed himself trying to get out his cage and I swear his eyes said to me, I’ll never go potty in the house if you promise to never put me in that cage again. I agreed and the deal was sealed. He never had to be crated at home. When he went to the vet or the groomer, he would return with a scraped and bloody nose from trying to get out of the cage. He would never learn to be okay with being caged — he was a dog after my own heart and I did my best to grant him freedom whenever possible.

A visit from our vet confirmed an infection, anemia from the fleas, and a host of worms. Most of those conditions were to be expected for a stray and they were cleared up with standard treatment. But Colonel remained lethargic for a puppy. I was determined to acclimate him to life as a loved family pet so he went to all the football games and practices with me where I was able to walk him and allow him to bond with me. He could barely keep up and plopped down every few yards to rest. I knew this was not the behavior of a healthy puppy so I watched for signs of something…what were we missing?

And then I saw those little, white worm segments in his poop. Tapeworm! Hard to find and hard to diagnose but once he was treated his energy boosted to normal puppy levels and he enjoyed his daily walks with me, gaining strength.

Overcoming fears and building trust

It turns out Colonel had fears of being confined in any space so when I had to enter the park restrooms, he balked and would not budge. I suppose those steel doors reminded him of the animal catcher’s van and the shelter where he spent a few scary days separated from his mom and caged in an unfamiliar and unsettling environment.

I learned — by watching a lot of episodes of The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan — that my energy had to remain calm in order for Colonel to trust me. I would walk around the building and without changing my pace or energy walk right up to the doors of the restroom and calmly walk through. Colonel submitted and the momentum carried him inside.

Colonel was afraid of everything. I suspect he had been terrorized or had learned from living on the streets for so long that there was potential for harm all around. As children whizzed by on scooters and bikes he jumped and hurled himself off the path. Every noise, like the whistle blown by the football coaches, the honk of a car horn, or the high-pitched laughter of children on swings unnerved him. I kept working with him and assuring him that I was not nervous, therefore he did not need to be afraid.

Giving Colonel a new lease on life was therapeutic for me too

The walks proved to be the best way to train Colonel and bond with him. Cesar insists that a responsible dog owner walk their dogs daily and this is the way to build trust and teach a dog that you are the alpha. Dogs want a master they can trust.

As Cesar says, “Humans are the only animals that will trust an unstable leader.” (I’ll refrain from political commentary but feel free to apply this truth wherever seems reasonable.)

I knew if I wanted Colonel to be a well-balanced pet he had to see me as a leader he could trust. Walking and working with Colonel became a type of therapy for me as well. I was embroiled in a lot of stress and this time with him gave me focus and an outlet for my anxiety and worry.

As Colonel grew stronger and more confident, I couldn’t help but feel that he seemed sad all the time. I couldn’t put my finger on it until I saw another dog wagging his tail and then it hit me — Colonel never wagged his tail! I began experimenting with everything that was guaranteed to make a dog’s tail wag: treats, excited play, making a big fuss when coming home. Nothing.

A trip to the vet confirmed that his tail was paralyzed — likely due to some trauma such as a being stepped on or hit by a car. This revelation further confirmed my suspicion that Colonel and his mom and brother had lived a rough life before being brought to the shelter.

Joy can’t be contained

Still, a dog needs to express joy, right? Colonel found a way to show his enthusiasm by picking up throw pillows, or other large squishy items like his dog bed or big stuffed animals, when he was excited. The look on everyone’s face when a big fluffy doodle greeted them at the door with a throw pillow in his mouth was priceless. This unique greeting never failed to amuse our visitors and the explanation of how his tail was paralyzed so this was his way of showing excitement always triggered more questions and I never grew bored telling the story or how we went to the shelter to “just look” and there he was…

Everyone loves a great story and stories of rescue and redemption are the best.

Colonel became the best dog I ever had. I never regretted my decision to bring him home. I never resented the work and time it took to rehab and train him and get him healthy. He gave back tenfold what I invested in him. He was remarkable in so many ways, I’ll have to write a book to tell them all, but here are a few of his special qualities.

Colonel was a polite pooper. He never pooped on anyone’s lawn or anywhere that a human would have to clean up after him. We had a yard full of Boston ivy so Colonel would scurry off to the ivy in the side yard and do his business. On walks, he waited until he passed a vacant lot or wooded area and — I kid you not — he would turn around and back up his butt into the woods.

Colonel never really needed a leash. He never strayed or wandered. If the boys would leave him outside after playing, he would come to the front door and “knock” to be let back in. He knew what life as a lost dog was like and wanted nothing to do with that again!

Colonel was helpful. He greeted me at the car and carried my grocery bags or luggage and purse into the house. When my mom was receiving hospice care in our home, Colonel would meet each nurse at the door and carry her bag down to my mom’s apartment. That never failed to elicit shrieks of joy from all our visitors — plus it fulfilled his need to carry something to show his excitement at having a visitor!

One football season my son’s team was struggling to win a game. I dressed Colonel up in one of my son’s old jerseys and took him to the game as the team mascot. The boys were so fired up they won their one and only game that season. At the end of the game and after every practice thereafter, Colonel carried Sean’s helmet off the field and to the car. He was the star of the football team!

And speaking of stars — I don’t even know how to explain this but others can testify it was true — Colonel had stars in his eyes. When you looked into his eyes it was as if the irises splayed out into clusters of stars. I fail to express this strange phenomenon in words but he became known as the dog with stars in his eyes to all of Sean’s friends.

Colonel was popular with all the girls too. He was so cute that he received nonstop adoration from any young girl that entered our home. It was, “Oh, he’s so cute” and “He’s so adorable” and he ate it all up and had them eating out of the palm of his paw, so to speak.

My brother nicknamed him Brad Pitt of the dog world. It was an apt nickname!

When it’s time to let go

In January of 2017, Colonel became lame and was in pain. Weeks of testing and specialist visits ended in the worst possible diagnosis. Colonel had a tumor on his neck that was growing into his spinal cord and would eventually cause paralysis.

We kept him as comfortable and as loved as possible until we knew it was time to let him go. Sean and I spent his last day lying with him on the deck with a warm May breeze caressing his fur. He was in pain and we wouldn’t leave his side until the angel from the visiting vet came to relieve him of his suffering. Colonel spent his last day with our family the way he had spent his first, lying with me and the boy who found him, being loved on and petted as he deserved.

When it came time to say good-bye, Colonel craned his neck to lock on my eyes and the dog with stars in his eyes held mine until his closed and he returned to where he came from — eternal stardust and love.

Thank you for reading. I’m Mary and when I’m not rescuing stray dogs I can be found writing with them lying under my desk and on my feet. I’d love to hear about your best dog ever and what made him/her so special.