2 minute read
RAISING CJ
20 YEARS AGO
I GOT INVOLVED
Advertisement
WITH DOG RESCUE
ORGANIZATIONS.
I CAN TELL YOU
FROM EXPERIENCE
NOTHING WILL LOVE
YOU MORE THAN A
RESCUE PET.
Some of them also bring unique challenges. Like CJ.
– By William Huggins
In early 2017, still grieving the death of the best dog I ever had, I started looking around for a new rescue pup. As an avid hiker I needed a dog who can cover long distances. The Internet provides easy access linking rescue organizations to individuals like me. After a few clicks I found myself meeting a female red heeler.
She had been abused. I knew immediately this dog would be a challenge. When I met her, she wouldn’t look at me, tail tucked, shaking. The worst scars these dogs bear are the ones we cannot see.
As a married guy with kids, my life contains enough complexities. Heelers can be challenging dogs. They typically bond to one person – for CJ that was definitely me. When I first brought her home I started her with a walk, to burn off some energy and anxiety, then introduced her to our other two rescues. Our Australian shepherd went a few rounds with her while they established their relationship. Our terrier mix shrugged her off.
I named her CJ, after my favorite science fiction writer. For the first three days I fed her food laced with probiotics. Rescues’ GI tracts are often squirrelly and the stress levels on CJ were off the charts. I let her sleep beside me that first night, and for a few nights after that, until I eased her into our dogs’ sleeping area.
Getting through the first month was the toughest part. On our first hike she came up to a pair of dark, volcanic boulders bordering a trail and refused to walk through them. She ran away, frightened of the large stones. I carried her through, talking softly to her the whole way. On our second hike she ran between my legs and tripped me, spilling me into a patch of scree. I rose with bloody hands and legs, cut up by the scattered rocks. She had a lot to learn.
On our third hike she tried to jump out the open driver’s side window of my car at 60 mph. After that I leashed her into her seat, where she would sit and wail.
Over four years we’ve trained and hiked ourselves into a solid partnership. But her anxiety continues. The swoosh of an outgoing email sends CJ into frenzied laps around the living room. Like lots of dogs, fireworks make her inconsolable. She’s madly jealous if I play games with my daughter or son. But we’ve all adjusted to her special needs.
When CJ and I sat on the summit of Mt. Charleston, we cemented the culmination of all the work we’ve done. High elevation hiking is one of many reasons I brought her into my life.
It took a lot of time and work to get her to this place. Many people don’t have the time or the patience to work with special needs dogs. But if you have the opportunity, the rewards are worth it – not just for the dogs, but for us humans, as well.
William Huggins is a local writer. His book Ghosts is available from Owl House Books.