Just over two months ago, we adopted Willy the Australian Shepherd. I first wrote about how happy I was to have him as a new member of our family. Then all hell broke loose and he decided that he wanted to chase everything under the sun, including runners, cyclists, trains, loud trucks, and so on. My knee started to hurt from him jerking me as he took off after things. In the house, he was the dream pet, but outside, he became my little nightmare.
I admit that I had moments where I thought we had made a mistake by bringing Willy into our home. As my knee and back throbbed in pain from getting literally yanked around by my dog, I said the words aloud to my husband that I never would dare utter to anyone else, “I just don’t know if I can do it.” I hate thinking of myself as a quitter, and I did not want to give up on Willy. I looked at him with such love and wondered about his life prior to us. He was a stray when he was found. How long had he been on the streets? I knew he had lived with a foster home for about 10 weeks. How many other homes had he lived in? Had others given up on him? How many others?
I looked at Willy as I had these doubts creeping into my head and felt truly guilty. I did not want to be one in a string of new homes he got shuffled back and forth, in and out of. But, he was hurting me and, after breaking leashes twice so he could run after trains, I felt he was putting his and my life in danger. He loved to run and I so desperately wanted him to be my running partner. I had seen glimpses of real potential that first week, but now wondered if we would ever really be able to enjoy running as a team.
As we approached our two month anniversary together, I wondered if my husband resented having Willy in the house. An extra dog was creating more work and more expense. I had wanted the dog, after all, not him. I felt guilty every time I asked Steve to do something with or for Willy. I was the one who wanted the dog. I should be dealing with him. Then, one day, Steve sat on the love seat, scratching Willy’s ears and he said, “I really love this guy!” At that moment, my heart just melted. I knew I was carrying the burden of most of Willy’s ill behavior. But I knew that Willy was now really, truly, officially part of our family. I could not give up on him.
We have made so much progress in such a short period of time. He now rarely lunges at a runner or cyclist. He still gets excited for trains, but not in the same frenzy he once had. He is actually fun to run with now. There is no better feeling that coming home to his unbridled enthusiasm and excitement. No one has ever been so genuinely happy to see me every single time I walk in the door as Willy has been. The lady from the dog rescue had talked about different phases that you go through with a rescue dog, and the trainer talked about “3 days, 3 weeks and 3 months.” The first three days are the adjustment to a new home. The next three weeks are the honeymoon period and the three month mark is when you really see what your dog is like. I felt like we had skipped right over the “honeymoon period”. However, as we are working towards the three-month mark, we are seeing what a truly awesome dog Willy is and we are so glad we have him in our home and in our family.
Willy has acquired several nicknames along the way. There is Boxcar Willy (because he chased trains), Shotgun Willy (Because he always wants to ride shotgun in the car), his mobster name Tiny Ears Willy (because Peyton thinks he has tiny ears), and when his hair gets crazy, I call him Willy Idol (you have to be a child of the 80s to understand that one). We suspect he lived in a McDonald’s dumpster previously because he refuses fruits and veggies but loves to eat ice cream and french fries. He has a sense of humor and likes to steal gloves and socks. He loves to be chased.
Willy is, without a doubt, a full-fledged member of our family. I am so glad I did not give up in those really difficult weeks. Any adopted animal is going to have some issues. Our commitment to training and loving him seems to be really doing the trick. Willy is in his forever home, where he will be loved now and always.