Patience, Pot Roasts, and Life on the Way Up

I've only been back from Christmas vacation on the east coast for a couple of days, but already the driving has begun.  Yesterday I got a call from Patti asking if I could meet a transporter near Gilmore (half way to Bakersfield) to pick up a border collie that she would transport to the rescue near San Diego  that evening.  She was working, and I was not, so I had no problem driving a mere forty-five minutes to meet the transporter then hang out with the dog till Patti got back from work.

This dog had one sad tale to tell.  He was a stray, but had the misfortune of getting hit by a car.  To add to his lack of luck, he was hit by an...actually I don't know what the name is for a person such as this...a human lacking logic and emotion?  This person hit the dog, felt bad, returned to pick up the dog, and then threw the dog over the Humane Society's fence!!!!  I have faith in humanity, I really do, but when I hear stuff like this, I just wonder how these people weren't kicked out of the gene pool years ago.

This border collie was in rough shape, but not as bad as one would think for a dog who's been through that.  He had a few scrapes and bruises, but the main problem was that he was emaciated.  I could feel every bone in his body under his coarse coat.  He had the potential to be a beauty, but right now, given his prior lot in life, he was a "Before" picture in a make-over ad.

He rode in the car just fine and when we got to my place, he didn't even want to go for a walk.  He just stood, not moving.  I couldn't tell if he was in actual physical pain, or if he had shut down emotionally.  He was as tall as the pit bulls I've had, but he weighed nothing at all.  I could lift him easily and carry him to my apartment.

He showed very little interest in anything. I gave him a bone to chew on, and then had to take it away from him when I saw blood on it.  I guess it was too much for his gums at the moment.  Teeth and gums will start to deteriorate if not used often.  He was a slow mover, and as I watched him in the apartment, I still couldn't tell if it was physical or emotional pain that deterred him from moving through space and time.

When Patti arrived last night, I walked him out to the car and tried to give him a chance to pee but he didn't want to move again.  Patti had a good couple of hours to drive and it was just the tail end of rush hour, so I wanted to get him in the car and send Patti on her way quickly.  So after only a few minutes, I picked him up and Patti told me to place him in the front seat.

Have I mentioned that Patti is the most easy-going, non-startled person I have ever met?  I guess you have to be to deal with numerous dogs at one time.  Honestly, she is so patient, I can't imagine her being over-reactive toward anything.  So I guess it shouldn't have come as a shock to what happened next.

Patti was sitting in the driver's seat doing something with her phone (I assumed getting directions or contacting the foster) as I placed the dog in the front seat.  I saw she had plastic bags on the passenger side floor, but that's about all that registered for me before the border collie lunged into the bag.  As he emerged, I said, "Patti, you have a pot roast.  He has your pot roast!"

Like an idiot I tried to get to get it back from him, but this once-motionless dog had come to life in an instant and he wasn't going to let me take his prize.  Patti replied in a disappointed tone, "Oh, I was going to cut that up for my dogs.  Oh well.  Just let him keep it.  It'll give him something to do on the ride."

I gave up trying to get it back, and the meat was a loss at that point anyway.  He had torn through the plastic wrap and was using his back teeth to get chunks of raw meat off the roast with a vehemence and determination he had not shown for anything else before.  I seriously had not seen that dog move that fast all day.  I still had the passenger side door open and he was facing me with the pot roast.  His butt was up and over the center console near Patti.  Patti looked around him, careful to not touch him, and said, "Darn.  The directions are under him.  I could just call for the address again."

I told her she had at least an hour, maybe two, straight down the 5 freeway, so maybe by then he would have moved and the final directions could be retrieved.  I closed the door, Patti thanked me, and I wished her luck and safety for her drive.

I found out from Patti that he spent half the drive gnawing away on his coveted pot roast, but when he had had enough he simply tucked it under himself and lay on it.

If the pot roast is any indication, this dog's life is on the up and up from here on out.  People like the ones who threw him over the fence give humans a bad reputation, and really should be thrown out of society for good.  But it's people like Patti, with their patience and pot roasts, that prove to me there is not only hope for all animals in need, but also for humankind.