An open letter to my dog, Roxie.

     by Second Chance volunteer Mike

It was 2 years and 6 days that you spent in the shelter.  And you eventually adjusted to shelter life, you finally let more and more people into your social circle.  Two years filled with stress and anxiety; I hope the 2-3 days a week that I visited and took you out were the best parts of your week because they were the best part of mine.  It was two years of doing the best you could with what you were given. We didn’t know what your future was going to look like, but we knew it was going to take a specific person to take you home, someone to put in the time, to earn your trust, to give you freedom and let you make choices on your own.  You needed to feel safe.  We knew the person that gave you your second chance was going to have to understand a dog like you with big feelings and be able to love you for who you are and not what they wanted you to be.

I remember Bethany, Second Chance’s adoption councilor and staff trainer, telling me about you and I just knew I had to meet you. You’re my kind of dog. Folks at Second Chance know the dogs I gravitate towards. I like the dogs that bark and growl and snap.  I’ve spent a lot of time learning about dogs like you and learning from you.  I know most dogs like you are just scared and confused and trying to fit into a world that is ever changing around them and just trying to make sense of it all.  Once upon a time you would have been the dog so many people wanted in their home, loyal and protective and vigilant and vocal.  Once upon a time we wanted dogs like you, for security, for protection.  But now we punish dogs like you for exact instincts we selected for them.

I remember meeting you and bringing a peanut butter Barkpouch and you licked it and growled at me and barked and then licked some more peanut butter and you kept your eyes on me the whole time.  I realized that you were more comfortable in an open space where you had freedom of choice so we spent time in the grassy yard.  I realized you loved squeaky stuffies and loved to play.  I remember how goofy you looked dancing around the stuffed animal.  I remember how afraid you were of me just putting the leash on you or touching you around your head so we worked on all your fears, slowly and carefully, and with a bit of patience we overcame so much together.

Do you remember the first time we got into the car and the first time we tried to take a walk.  Do you remember the woods you wouldn’t walk in, the trails you froze up on.  The time after time I sat on the ground waiting for you to feel safe so we could move forward or head back to the car.

I remember being so proud the first time you walked the trails with your nose on the ground and not a care in the world. You walked with so much pride and intent and purpose. I remember that day like it was yesterday.  Just to be part of that day gave me so much peace and I saw the real special individual you so desperately needed to be.  To watch you grow and blossom and come out of your shell.  I knew then we had something to work with and maybe your future wasn’t so bleak.  But there aren’t a lot of people out there for a dog like you.  And I know that.

When we first met, I didn’t have a house, I was living in an apartment that did not allow dogs.  When we first met, I had just said goodbye to one of my favorite shelter dogs as she went home with her new family and I lost some very important people in my life during those times. I needed you then as much as you needed me.  I saw you become a better version of yourself and you helped me become a better version of myself.  So, I had a mission, I decided to buy us a house.  I know there are not a lot of people out there that would do this for a shelter dog and I know that it seems crazy to buy a house for a dog.  It wasn’t that I needed to buy you a house; you made me realize that I needed a house to give you a home.

And I know, you’ll never be that friendly neighborhood dog, you’re not going to be a dog park dog and I’m ok with that.  You’re  not the dog the greets strangers with a big grin and a wagging tail and I’m ok with that.  But you’re a smart dog and you arehappy in my world and I am happy to have you in it.  You’re goofy dog and silly dog and you’re a loving dog to the people you let in. And for 2 years and 6 days you were a shelter dog.  But now as I write this and you sleep by my feet in a house that you made a home, I feel like you are now the dog you were meant to be.  My dog.

Welcome home.  Roxie.

Just a personal note to anyone reading this….

To all the people out there that say they don’t have time for a dog, that it wouldn’t be fair to take a dog home and be at work half the day. If you have the space, and a soft bed, or a comfy blanket and the means to fill a food bowl and water dish.  There is a dog out there for you. A senior dog that doesn’t need a lot of time and even appreciates alone time.  A nervous dog that just needs a little love and attention. Even though the shelter staff love and care for these amazing pups, they would still do better in a home even if it’s just a good meal and soft pets and some chill time in front of the TV.  You don’t need a big home, or a big car, or big bed.  You just need a big heart.

The shelter staff is well equipped to help you find that rare gem or that senior dog that you just might need just as much as the need you.  Please consider adoption.

Roxie enjoying the cat bed

Discussing some ground rules with her new sibling