A senior rescue dog is unlikely to be adopted.
Huff was ten years old. Trapped with a family who didn’t care about him.
He had people helping him, but Huff wasn’t getting out of his situation without me.
An older dog means you will say good-bye sooner. That is why they are passed over for adoption.
But the moment I saw him, I knew he was mine.
The dogs, not mine.
I wasn’t keen on potty-training. Huff already had the ability to control his bladder.
He had never been an inside dog, so he needed a little guidance on where it was appropriate to empty that bladder. But like most herding dogs, he was a quick learner.
I get it when a senior rescue dog wants a slow start to their morning.
I understand the joints that need a bit of time to get moving.
I understand the pleasure of a quiet evening reading and petting my dog. For Huff, a warm spot next to his human was about the best thing in life.
I know my limitations.
I don’t want a dog that weighs 100 pounds. There is nothing wrong with a dog that big, but it doesn’t work for me.
With a senior rescue dog, you know what you are getting: the breed, the temperament, their attitude toward life. Most important to me, I knew I would be able to pick him up and carry him if necessary.
I was grateful that I could carry him up the stairs when he couldn't climb them.
I was grateful that I could cradle him in my arms when it was time for him to leave me.
I felt like my successes were magnified. A senior rescue dog can need so much, it is easy to do a lot of good.
I didn’t do everything right. It took time to learn each other. I took him on car rides to do errands, until I realized it made him queasy.
I took him for walks in the park until I realized how fearful he was of other dogs.
Then I found him a different kind of park with meandering trails that people with energetic dogs avoided. I’ve never seen him happier.
Thinking about a senior rescue dog of your own?
These folks can help you get started.
© Copyright Suzanne Grosser