UPDATE 8/31/03 on the Montana Collies
Statement by AWCA President Jean Levitt
*Permission to crosspost*
Folks, before we continue our Montana collie updates, I’d like to discuss with you a situation regarding an AWCA working collie. One of our highly trained professional dogs, an Assistance Dog who is partnered with a disabled person in a wheelchair, is in need of a retirement home. This distinguished collie service dog has developed arthritis in his 11½ years and must be retired immediately. His person lives alone and sadly is unable to meet his retirement needs. In addition, his person must begin training with a successor dog in order to be able to continue living alone, and cannot manage two dogs.
May I hear from potential adopters in the New England/New York area who could physically and financially provide dignified retirement for this professional collie gentleman? It will be my pleasure to submit his name for nomination to the AWCA Hall of Fame later this Fall when we hold our annual Honors Dogs program. Interested persons may contact me through AWCA Secretary Judy Cummings, jccollie@worldnet.att.net.
AWCA continues to pay bills incurred by this enormous rescue effort. Thanks to all of you who have so generously donated, we have the funds, so far, to meet these final expenses. At this time, we are removing the fund-raising message from our website. We will let you know if further financial assistance is needed. Sheriff Matoon expects the Montana collie rescue funds to be open for one year from now to ensure all bills are paid.
We hear reports daily on the progress of the Montana collies in their new homes. We will continue to share their stories with you.
By a Montana Adopter
Scripture states that, “He careth even for the sparrows”; we can see His hand going before the collies.
This story is unique, unexpected and “anchored” with one surprise after the other.
Poor baby, in looking back, how odd it was that we had never crossed paths even though I had worked almost exclusively with the female contingency of collies. This mature lady (a vet’s guess believes she is in the range of 4 to 6 years) has what we jokingly call a canine birthmark high on one hip. On her black body, she being a tricolored dog, has a distinctive short white streak on her left hip. As the only one in the 175 dogs with such a noticeable marking, it seemed remarkable that it had not come to my attention. To my astonishment I had not made this girl’s acquaintance. Somehow in all the handling of so many dogs in both Shelby and Great Fall, others must have been caring for her or I’m not as observant as I think I am.
As of July 22, 2003, Camp Collie has been in operation for 184 days at Shelby, MT and 57 days at Great Falls, MT and still counting. At all times the animals have been under the jurisdiction of Toole County Sheriff’s Dept. This legality made volunteerism different in that everyone had to have criminal background checks, photocopies of licenses were needed, vehicle description and a sign in and out procedure was necessary for security purposes. At Camp Collie II, restrictions prevented entry until the attendant unlocked the gate and gave clearance. I digress – on to Sailor’s adoption.
WOW, double WOW, I can adopt a collie of my own!!! Being side-lined as my friends started to rehabilitate and finalize adoptions of Hope, Mindy and Hallie made me feel deprived. It was an emotional downer for me, but then my own personal situation changed drastically and I leaped forward with adoption goals spinning around in my mind. Well, guess what, my happiness at joining the team of adopters was being shaken by not having the faintest idea of how to select one! The first consideration was an easy step. It had to be a female as our terrier, Coady, has a temperamental arrogance that wouldn’t put up with having another male in his territory. This was the first given, the second one would rule out puppy adoption, as the very young animals might best be placed in a home preferably with children or young adults. Those winsome balls of fur were off my short list of possibilities. As I walked up and down the rows of beseeching eyes watching me, my confusion grew. Even mentally it was hurtful to think of rejecting any of them, and seeing the wistfulness in their eyes almost brought tears to mine. I couldn’t choose! In desperation without any real reason I decided on the tri on the south end pen. This dog really didn’t fit my inward bias of a lively eyed, perky, personality dog. In fact she was just the opposite; she wouldn’t make eye contact, wasn’t eager to go for a walk, and appeared lethargic and weary of the entire parade of people and activities swirling throughout the building. She did have this intriguing birthmark, which appealed, and she certainly needed a home.
I took her on several walks, told the folks to reserve her for me, then stewed! Was this dog one that would respond and come out of her shell? Were her psychological problems going to diminish in time? Did I have the patience and ability to blend this collie happily in with both our dogs, Summer and Coady? In a day’s time I had conjured up a good-sized pack of worries. I even considered not adopting her and was riding a teeter-totter of both negative and positive thoughts. I tend to do this with all major decisions so am used to my mind games, which I justify as being realistic.
Monday was a long day. At 1:00 P.M. I decided for “better or worse,” (afterall, that oath is working for my husband and me), this tri-collie would join the family and the bonding would happen as we became acquainted. Others surprises, my friends made up a bed for her in the back of the car. A gorgeous quilt was prepared to make her ride home comfortable, as her surgery for spaying was two days fresh. I tried to gently tow the unwilling girl to the car’s back door. No amount of coaxing helped to get her within 20 feet of the car. She balked. Liz had to carefully hoist and carry this noncompliant collie to get her loaded. I collected the rabies papers the travel kit gift provided by Science Diet and the dog food. I quickly slid the keys in the ignition and started for home to get her settled as soon as possible. I ran the air conditioner on high to cool us both off after the intense efforts of loading my dog in 95 degree heat! The start of our relationship was beginning with a churlish, petulant collie. My passenger, Sailor, did take a bit of interest in her surroundings as we started speeding down the highway. She appeared to stop pouting and eyed the passing terrain with some curiosity. At least that was my interpretation as I sneaked peeks into the rear view mirror. I didn’t want her changing attitude to be stymied by seeing me evaluating her.
Surprises continued. Pulling the car under its protective cover I tried to unload OUR DOG. “No thanks” seemed to be her opinion of that idea. Was her tummy hurting? Gathering up my dejected girl and gingerly setting her on the ground was the first step of settling in. I wrestled her to the fenced yard. Summer came out to meet us and “surprise,” this girl who had been acting ornery and stressed out, came to life. She strutted up to Summer with a brief tail wagging greeting, then began sizing up the yard. The soft, fragrant lawn and big shade trees seemed to meet with her approval. “Things were definitely looking up,” seemed to be the new attitude surfacing in Sailor. How quickly it replaced the restrained, listless behavior that had been the only side of her that she had graced me with. What a rascal.
Coady came out to investigate the situation. He welcomed her with a quick sniff. It’s just too hot to get really enthused, he implied. The thermometer had reached 102 degrees. My husband, whose only prior encounter with these collies had been in meeting Hope the night before, prepared him. Sailor and Hope had been conditioned to fear men. Sailor rose to the occasion by managing the introduction adequately. My husband could see how they had been almost destroyed with abuse and was so disgusted with the former owners.
Another surprise was her semi-brave entrance into our house. Her bravado didn’t fool us, but we applauded her efforts to appear nonchalant. She ate a little and lay down on the cool cement floor of our garage and went fast asleep. It had been a very long day. We expected nighttime whimpers and whines. Surprise, Sailor had a quiet night.
Day two progressed with collie resiliency, charm and lightheartedness bubbling up from reserves buried deep within. The transformation of Miss Sad to this perky somebody was unfolding as if we were in a fast-forward movie. She explored the boundaries of the yard, chewed on a bone, and challenged the other dogs to a quick game of chase. She walked at the end of her leash to get the Tribune as if it were an old routine. What a transformation from the dog listlessly lying in her cage just yesterday! Maybe during all the horrors she had suffered, she had held on to a dream about a home and family. Perhaps she had in the dim recesses of her mind, memories of once having lived and romped in a yard such as ours. Whatever was going on it was BONDING at its finest. There was no hesitation, she was our dog and we were her family. She was firmly embedded in our hearts.
What’s in a name? Before we settled on Sailor we tried Wren, Jamie, Emma and discarded each one. A fellow had called a dog Sailor at the camp but when that dog was adopted, his people called him Klondike. We are hung up on “S” names, it seems, as our fillies are Shiloh and Shelby; we have Summer and I liked the name Sailor as it allegorized her sailing into this new life with all the vim and vigor she could muster.
She is a joy and concerns have vanished other then one. Her teeth are brown with tartar. Sailor-girl has terrible looking teeth. A friend shared my distress, and on day three this amazing girl was letting us scrape her teeth to the best of our ability with some dental tools. The uncooperative dog had been replaced with one that seemed to know we were helping her. Sailor’s trust in us was beyond comprehension. Even when we drew blood she would look into my eyes and let us proceed. Tooth brushing and bone crunching is part of an on going prescription since she shouldn’t be anesthetized very soon having just recovered from spaying.
The dog door? No problem – she handles it like a pro. The bath was a different story. Our dogs swim in the pond daily to cool off. I couldn’t stand Sailor’s kennel odor, so hoping she would like a swim and armed with shampoo, we followed Coady and Summer to the pond. “I don’t think so,” was her immediate reaction, but my determination had kicked in. I lifted her and carried her in, her eyes opened wide, but after I lowered her in the water, it was only moments later that she decided it felt pretty refreshing and the bath proceeded.
Loyalty, love and the forgiving spirit of an abused collie dog, is the first chapter in our adventure together.
Aesop wrote: No act of kindness,
No matter how small
Is ever wasted.
These words are dedicated to everyone who gives “kindness” to the Valiant Kennel collies. From the beginning, at the present, and in the future.
Calmly,
Jean Levitt, President AWCA
and the Officers and Members of AWCA