LEAP OF FAITH

© Linda Clark, 2001

 

 

I opened the attachment as I had done so many times before. A wonderful Chow rescue worker, named Tracy Myhier, knew that I had started longing for a cream colored Chow about a year ago. There had been several likely candidates, but none of them had worked out.  None, that is, until that day.

 

Tracy was leaving on a trip to the South for a Christmas Holiday; but just before leaving she sent a quick note to me with a picture. “Are you interested?” she asked. He's in a Chow-kill shelter so answer quickly.”

In fact, he was in the same LA shelter that had killed a lovely sweet cream Chowboy who just a few weeks earlier I had agreed to consider.  So I opened the picture quickly.

 

I looked into the sweetest, saddest little face seen in a long time. "Please love me" his eyes seemed to say.  In fact, there was a huge tear hanging from each eye to add emphasis to his misery.  Yet his head was erect with little velvet ears pointed hopefully up toward the person taking his picture. "Would you care about me?" he seemed to be asking.

 

I called my husband to come look. It was simply a gesture of courtesy as I had already fallen, and fallen hard!  Terry's response was also instantaneous, "Oh what a wonderful dog but so sad!"

 

Well, we could surely fix that.

 

Still aching from the earlier disappointment of the Chow put-to-sleep simply because he was a Chow, I immediately called the rescue contact person. With Tracy out of town, Joan Scoccimarro was the contact person and I wrote her as soon as I finished gazing into his eyes.  She answered quickly and stressed that time was of the essence, as we all knew only too well what happened to Chows in Central LA.

 

Joan was hampered by the holiday season also as everyone was out of town or busy or having car trouble or a myriad other number of reasons why they couldn't help this time. It was also the weekend, a dangerous time at the shelter because people in charge were gone until the following Monday.

 

I couldn't trust a simple contact from the local rescue people, so I called and got through to the kennel.  A young man with an Hispanic accent took my call and said that yes, the white chow was still there.  And yes he was getting along with the other dogs in the cage, but he just sat there in the back.  He wouldn't respond or come to anyone; and “Lady”, he had to tell me,  “There is a ‘WATCH’ on him.”

 

"But why?" I asked. "Is he aggressive?"

 

"Well no, he hasn't barked or growled or bitten anyone; but he doesn't act like any of the other dogs either."

 

"Of course not,” I replied, thinking to myself, ‘He's a chow you fools!’  But I merely said, "He's just frightened. Please, please make sure that there are entries that someone is interested in him on the computer and posted on his cage. I don't want him put down before a rescue worker can see him".

 

I was assured that he wouldn't be killed, as they were always very careful to try to place all dogs, even Chows and Pitbulls.  Wonderful.  Chows and Pitbulls in the same breath - two breeds thought of as aggressors and killers!

 

And so began the long wait.  In the meantime I didn't tell anyone anything about the sweet, sad Chowboy because I didn't want to jinx the rescue.  I kept writing and calling every Chow rescue person I could find, including Tracy who was trying to have a vacation. I was so afraid that somehow this boy too would slip through the system and be lost forever.

 

I couldn't keep referring to him as "white Chow 352661" and so I started listening for his name.  I like words of one or two syllables for pets, as a trainer had told me that dogs truly only hear one syllable.  If you name the pet "Rover", he only hears "Ro" and knows that is he.  I am also partial to Oriental names for Chows and so I started to think about this boy clinging to his hope of life and love with his chow dignity. 

 

Then the word came to me. "Chi" which is an Asian word for life-force.  It is the flow of Chi in our bodies that keeps us healthy and whole.  This boy would be named for life. He would be as a beacon, a white beacon of hope for all Chows whom long for forever homes.

 

And so began the long trial and error process of dealing with rescue people via the internet.  Everyone swung into action and was eager to save this Chowboy.  There was no one available who was an experienced Chow evaluator, however; and so a Dalmatian rescue worker was sent to see Chi.

 

Needless to say, with a frightened pound tech, who roped Chi around the neck and then around the muzzle, and a person used to the effusive Dal personality, Chi received a most negative report..”I could not in good conscience recommend that this dog be adopted.”

 

Now I was not only looking for a non-aggressive dog, as our two placid and agreeable Chow babies did not deserve to have their home ground disturbed by an angry newcomer, but also, and most importantly, for a cat friendly Chow!  And I was firmly told that no way could anyone hazard a guess about this boy with cats. I looked at his picture again and made a decision. I was willing to take a leap of faith and went ahead with the "yes" answer to the rescue people. We would give him a forever home.

 

I sent the negative evaluation off to Tracy, along with a few close chow friends and asked for their opinion. All responded with a resounding affirmative reaction. Everyone felt that he was just a scared but non-aggressive Chowboy.  Bolstered by this reinforcement we waited while bailout, foster, and transport was arranged.

 

I waited eagerly for the phone call from the woman who bailed him from the shelter and who would foster him until the transport could begin a week later. She was very limited in Chow experience but was gentle and loving and said she and her husband thought him most beautiful and sweet although terribly scared. And oh yes, he was perfectly fine with her cats!

 

When one takes a leap of faith, one should be prepared to land on solid ground or learn how to fly.  It looked like we had landed on solid ground!

 

Finally the day arrived when the interminable process of transport from LA to Arcata began.  Chi was loaded into the vehicle of a rescue driver, who was going from LA to San Jose.  Then list friends drove to San Jose and brought him back up to San Mateo for an overnighter.  When I picked up the phone that evening, Doug's voice said gruffly, "Linda, I am sorry but you are not getting your dog" and I knew that Chi had passed his first experienced chow people test! 

 

Barb and Doug loved him, but warned me that there was a long and rocky road ahead.  This dog was severely depressed and frightened and had crawled inside himself so deeply that he appeared shell-shocked.  But during all this trial and travel and succeeding batch of strangers, there wasn't a bite, a growl or any sign of aggression. AND he was cat friendly!

 

Barb drove him to Sacramento where two rescue drivers picked him up and drove all the way up to Crescent City and kept him for another overnighter, since he was such a filthy mess they wanted to clean him up a bit. Somehow they bathed this boy and brushed him a bit to spruce him up for Mama and Daddy and then set about the final two hours of driving to Arcata.

 

By now it was Sunday and we went to the park where we were all to meet. Terry and I were so excited.  Our two Chows, Quinn and Sulei, were not!  We saw the SUV pull up and the women got out with the most perfect cream dream of a Chowboy, all teddy bear faced and furry and very hesitant. We let him approach slowly although we wanted to throw our arms around him and tell him that he was Home.  He cowered and shied away from any gesture of a touch.  The drivers told us he was obviously mistreated and more than just a remote Chow, he was a basket case.

 

If he was less than thrilled by the new humans in his life, he reached out to Quinn and Sulei for an exhange of sniffs and smells.  They were less than thrilled by this interloper.  We asked the women to take Quinn and Sulei home in their vehicle and I got in the back seat with a trembling Chi who flattened himself on the floorboard of the car and shoved his face into the front seat's back.  While heartbreaking to see, it did afford me the opportunity to gently touch him and talk to him. He was rigid like granite under my touch.

 

When we got to the house, he found a place where he had his back to the wall and his side pressed against the stairs and tried to blend in with the cream carpeting, and finally he fell asleep from exhaustion.  A friend had given me some lovely CD's that were created especially for calming jittery, anxious pets and the soothing strains floated peaceably throughout the house providing a real change of pace for a guy who had just a few days before only heard the terrified cacophony of other stray dogs as he slept.

 

Each day, we began to see little bits of calming and acceptance and a decision from Chi that the world was not such a bad place after all. Small strides mean so much when working with abused rescues.  The first time his tail moved ever so tentatively when he saw us, the first WOOF when something bothered him outside the glass doors ("this is my house, watch out stranger!"), the first quick kiss on my outstretched hand; these were all incredible milestones and reasons to rejoice.

 

He now strikes out with a fat paddy-paw at Quinn and Sulei's chests in supplication and enticement to play. He is usually met with some indifference by Sulei and a warning growl by Quinn; but I was delighted to see a blur of red, black and cream fur flying across the deck in some rough and tumble play the other day.

 

He totally adores Quinn and with his street smarts plays up to him as Alpha male and kowtows to His Chowness, who in turn accepts it as his Right.

 

Chi is a smart little dickens.  He learned his name very quickly and responds now with an acknowledgment of a turned head, if not actually coming when called.  Of course, that is usually Quinn's response as well!  I had trained Quinn as a puppy to ring a rope with bells on it that hangs from the sliding glass doors in the family room when he wanted to go out for potty.  It took Chi only a few "rings" with resulting walkies before he figured out that was a neat way to get to go out.

 

And so I sit every day with slices of lean turkey hot dogs laid seductively on me and praise at each tentative step to me and quick snatch (with the gentlest of mouths) of the treat. Firmly I hold the short lead that is always on his collar so he can't dance away just out of touch and I run my hands over his body..touching..praising..giving bits of treats. His rigidity slowly relaxes and he sometimes lets me touch his head without holding his leash now.  His tail speaks volumes when I greet him and he no longer flees when we walk past as he is lying down.

 

How I wish I could unlock the secrets that lie within this little Chow heart so that I could take away all fears; but time will have to accomplish that. And now it is Chi's turn to take a leap of faith with us.  I have no doubts but that he will, and he will be wonderfully rewarded just as we have been.