Three years ago a terrified young, handsome dog arrived. “He can run, but he won’t do it” was the reason for giving him up. He peed himself with fear when he first saw me. He bucked like a wild horse when I took him inside. He didn’t leave his bed for days, and for months he would only eat if I put his bowl in his bed. Today he is a snuggly, scallywag who on brave days might give visitors a sniff and allow them to pet him gently, while hiding behind me. That’s ok. When it just us he plays, runs, demands cuddles, relaxes in the grass and barks at me to hurry up with the food. His life might confined to the same environment, but that is what makes him happy and safe. And seeing how confident and “normal” he is now, compared to when he arrived, makes me happy.
