Guest Post: A Love Letter to Corky
Here’s some of what Emily wrote:
White, black and dirt all over. That’s what you looked like when we first met. I drew the short straw and had to walk the barrier-aggressive new pit in the holding kennel. I crouched, avoided eye-contact and remained calm as I leashed you up and brought you outside in the rain.
And then it happened. We were outside alone and standing under a big maple tree; the rain steadily dropping around us. The wet droplets landed on your dusty fur and started to cleanse you. I no longer saw just another dog with an attitude problem. I saw you and I fell in love.
You passed your behavioral evaluations and we learned you couldn’t become small enough in the presence of men, children frightened you and you would probably shred a cat in an instant. But we were to find you a new home. Months later most had lost hope. But I had love for you and if I hadn’t loved my cats, I would have brought you home.
Your barrier aggression got worse, and worse; kennel life did not suit you, and you did not present well. You were scaring people and the Board of Directors was notified…and the pending big “E” was a reality. I wouldn’t let it happen. We went to work. We learned agility, you got extra training time, socialization time, anything to get you out of the kennel.
And it worked. One sunny day, Mason brought in his parents and wanted to play with you (you do have a knack for playing with other pups that was irresistible to watch – it was like you had a crush on any dog you got to play with). You had a new friend, and a new family to love you. I cried, the volunteers cried, and I cried some more. I was so happy for you, but I still have an aching spot in my heart where you sit.
You were my first true love, and you were a DINOS. It was my job to protect you. We learned to arch, about turn, and let my voice carry over a grassy knoll to ‘warn’ people of your need for space and that they should inquire about you inside…You were my first DINOS (the first of many) and we learned together. You were a star and I had to help others see that or there were major consequences. In the end we succeeded.
No dog will ever be like you. No dog will ever capture my heart the way that your smile did. And certainly kisses will never feel the same coming from another snout. But I comfort myself with the knowledge that you have a new best friend and a new mommy and daddy that love you just as much as I do.
His name is Corky. He is my greatest success story.