Special-needs dog

Ruby oh Ruby, you darling beast.


Seeing as M and I and one of my brothers (not the one with the crazy wife) are going skiing this weekend, I thought it prudent that I find alternate arrangements for Ruby while we were gone so that my brother's wife, who is dogsitting for us, would not rip her hair out in the third minute of being here with four dogs and all. So I sent an email to the network and someone volunteered to take Ruby for the weekend. I drove over there to drop her off tonight (the puking in the car, the horrid stench, every time--the most easily car-sickened dog I've ever known). Three hours later, the woman called me and said she couldn't get Ruby to come back in the house and she was barking her head off and it's twenty degrees out and what should she do? So I drove back over and got Ruby to go in their house. I left a tie-out so if it happens again they can just pull her back in...

Ruby. I cannot even imagine what that dog went through that fucked her up so much that she's so terrified of people. This woman I dropped her off with for the weekend, I got a good-animal feel from her too. Ruby has yet to be convinced. She still won't even come inside for M when I'm not home. For some reason or another, she has bonded exclusively with me and won't do anything for anybody else, or even let them touch her. But she can't get enough of me touching her. This is probably not good for her adoptability.

While I was back at the woman's house the second time, I got a good look at the dog she's currently fostering. It's a border collie mix and her right front leg is crooked as sin. I asked about it and the woman told me that the dog's leg had been broken and her previous owners (from whom she had been rescued) had set it by tying a stick to it and letting it heal that way. So now she was going to have to have surgery to re-break it and straighten it all out. The dog had also had a litter of ten pups, eight of whom died. I saw two of her puppies when I originally got Ruby--the woman who was taking care of Ruby had them. The were the most adorable little balls of round soggy puppy on earth. They were about six weeks old then.

Before I tackled special-needs Ruby, hearing that story about the dog's leg would have ripped my heart in half. But now that I'm really actually doing something for this dog that was in such a bad way, it doesn't hurt as much. I wonder if what I was feeling before was as much guilt and rage that I could do nothing as it was sympathy for the poor creatures who are abused and neglected. Because I still feel the sympathy, but it doesn't hurt as much because I know I'm doing something good to help an animal in need. My heart is just...bigger. And better.

So. On that note. M and the brother and I leave bright and early tomorrow morning for New York, where hopefully we will not freeze and will have some fun and won't break any of our parts. I'm bringing two cameras. Pics upon return.

Have a good weekend!