The first time I saw her I had a knowing; she was coming home with me. She was curled up at the back of a kennel, hiding behind the single dog bed, a 15 lb shaggy potentially the ugliest dog I have ever seen in person with that shared the space with her. She was older, gauged by her large size, and all black… even her tongue… I didn’t stop and claim her, no I kept going, looking. I wanted a puppy, a cute baby dog that would bond to me like I was its mama bear. But my partner, I knew, wanted an older dog. When he joined, I showed him her. Macy.
It took 3 shelter staff to carry her to us to meet, and she kept trying to hide under the bench, terrified of everything and everyone. They said she was fearful, we saw that, it didn’t matter. She was the one. We took her home. She was so scared she pooped herself. I washed the kennel smell, and The Who knows what else, off of her as she cowered in the tub. She didn’t eat.
That first night and next morning, when I took her out, she went to the bathroom. Then for the next 5 days she held it. No pee, no poop, and no eating. Too scared. She lay in one spot, curled into herself, not moving, not making a noise, watching fearfully. I would pick her up, all 50 lbs, and carry her out of the apartment for walks. Nothing, if you don’t count the sled dog dragging-action she would do to get me back into the apartment. I hired a trainer immediately. I took her to the vet… who confirmed Macy was Macy had the will of a super animal and was choosing to not go to the bathroom. I hand fed her for 3 weeks, really delicious meaty smelling food. She slowly began to eat on her own… and I found the miracle of miracles. Peanut butter. She would refuse it on all high stress situations, which was about everything except in the coven of our home, but it was a step forward.
Macy and I moved back to NH when I separated from my partner and immediately there was a shift for her. Less concrete, people, stimulation; more nature, trees, and clean air. We were both on journeys, me now healing from a break up, move home with family triggers abound, and her from whatever hell she’d been put through.
Slowly she has evolved, she can walk out doors, she wags her tail, she is just about a normal dog. She looks at me with such adoration, such unconditional love. I am her person. I have seen her through vomiting and diarrhea in the car from fear, to a leg injury requiring stitches, were we also found and removed buck shot pellets from her limbs, and so much more.
I love her, all of her fear, all of her growth, all of out emotional challenges, all of our pretty and not so pretty moments together. Did I mention, one time she tripped me and dragged me… when I finally got control I had skid marks (grass stains really) across my chest? Yup.. that happened and I LOVE it. Every time I look at her, I have a deeper understanding of how much we saved each other. The love I have for her is chest tightenning deep, unconditional. She is as perfectly imperfect as am I. We fit. I am beyond grateful I found her.
– Krysta, New Hampshire, 3.3.19
All Love Letters’ are pristine, posted as they were received. Please forgive any spelling and grammar issues, since the writing was done in the throes of love, and sometimes love doesn’t care about commas or misplaced letters.