Unexpected Lessons

​Lately, there has been an explosion of Chihuahua hoarding rescues in the news, and almost every shelter has at least one of the little characters waiting to be adopted. The reasons for this are complicated and something for another day's discussion. Last week I received a plea from one of my favorite rescues, saying that there was a senior Chihuahua, half blind and sickly, far south in a rural Alabama shelter. The shelter could not care for her and was desperately looking for someone to pull her into a home.

A few months ago my pack been reduced to four when my oldest girl, Annabelle, died. I had known then I would get another rescue, I was just waiting for the right one. I immediately recognized this nameless girl was who I had been waiting for. I drove five hours to pick her up, then loaded the front seat with a terrified, scrawny, half blind senior Chihuahua.

Over the next few days I was filled with righteous indignation. Who would dump this sweet girl at a shelter, and why hadn’t they taken better care of her before then? I created a fictitious enemy in my mind and cursed him/her for their lack of caring. The old girl's new name became Blanche, and she needed antibiotic’s for her teeth, flea treatment, a good nail trim, small bits of food every few hours, and a lot of love. 

Once Blanche started to feel better, I realized several things. She was not afraid of anyone, and was not your normal shaky Chihuahua. She rode great  in the car, and could sniff out a french fry from anywhere in the front seat of the car. She tracked me around the house better than submarine radar and not once had (or has had) an accident in the house.

Someone had loved this old girl, likely for many years. My anger faded as I thought about what it would have taken for someone to leave her at the shelter. Likely they truly thought it was better for her, with whatever circumstances they were going through. Maybe they had lost their job, or become ill. Maybe they didn’t have a lot of family or support to help them care for the animals in their home. The fleas,  weight loss and bad nails had happened over time. Had circumstances gradually declined in the house? Maybe it was for precisely those reasons that Blanche was given up, in the hope of her receiving better care.

Then I thought about myself in the future. There will come a day when I can no longer rescue dogs. When the volume of dogs I have or had would have to slowly decrease. Who knows what the future brings for any of us? I will try to have grace, and wish I could tell Blanche's previous family that she is loved and will be safe for the rest of her days. I learn something from every dog I rescue, and maybe the lack of judgment is what Blanche was sent for me to learn. Whatever the reason, I am grateful to now have her as part of my pack. And remember, adopt, don't shop!