What Rescue Will Do

Boo Radley now

We have three schnoodles, all rescues, who came to us bruised and battered, scarred and scared. 

We understood.

Going from abandonment, abuse, neglect, and betrayal to a shelter or foster home, to a forever home must be filled with all sorts of emotions and confusion – and I am a firm believer that dogs have emotions.

That’s why we forgave Boo for biting a couple of times at the start. Here was a dog who was shivering with fear in the back of a van in a wire kennel. He was matted and thin, dirty and smelly. 

He almost wasn’t ours. We’d found dogs online twice that we’d come to adopt, and both times we’d completed paperwork only to find that when we arrived, our dog had “just been adopted” by someone else. Right out from under us.

Boo Radley a/k/a Einstein at the rescue - picture sent to us by the organization on his intake day

A dog they dubbed Einstein for his wild hair had just arrived in the parking lot on one such occasion, and was being held in a van until he could be processed. They could not put him out for adoption with the other dogs yet. I think the lady who’d promised us the cute female Maltipoo with some sweet little Hawaiian name truly felt bad that we’d driven an hour to adopt her only to find she had just left with another family, so she’d added, “But there is one other possibility. I can’t let him go today, but he’s just arrived. Want to take a look?” 

We did.

We followed her to the parking lot, where she’d opened the van doors to reveal the most frightened dog we’d ever seen, visibly shaking and unsure of what was happening to him. 

I stuck my head in and spoke softly to him, and he calmed down. I asked to hold him, and the woman reluctantly allowed it after explaining that the landlord of a nearby apartment complex had brought him by and begged her to take him. She told the woman that the dog’s owners had left two weeks earlier, that this dog had been abandoned in a duplex, and someone must have thought he would be found immediately. He wasn’t. They’d left food and water down, but it was all gone by the time the cleaning crew showed up to find a huge mess teeming with flies and one terrified dog.

Boo Radley the day we picked him up from the rescue

We adopted Einstein and named him Boo Radley. He had no reason to trust anyone anymore – if he ever had – and we had a lot of ground to gain with him. He snapped and bit at first, but with love and time, he has come to be a loving companion, despite his many lingering issues.

Boo Radley watching the driveway for his people to arrive home (he’s a full time inside dog who wants to wait outside for his family following his afternoon walk)

This is the dog who will cower to the laundry room and shake when anyone’s cell phone dings. Let it ring with music and he will howl at the moon.. He becomes agitated and obsessed with killing flies if he sees one buzzing around. If he smells the heat of a toaster, he will shake with fear and seek a lap. If the smoke alarm (or any timer or noise such as a clock) goes off, he goes into a tizzy. We think that somewhere along the way, he experienced a fire.

Boo Radley – ready to play keep away with his ball. Where other dogs fetch, Boo has trouble sharing his toys.


But this is the same dog who sits awake all night at our heads, guarding us as we sleep, then sleeps all day. This is the dog who sits at the head of the driveway and doesn’t want to come inside until both of us are home from work. He knows he has a family, and he knows his role is to protect and love us – as ours is to protect and love him. This is the same dog who knows he will never again be abandoned or abused or neglected. The same dog who now rests assured of his place in his forever family.

This is what rescue will do.

Boo Radley – sleeping like an owl in the early morning after guarding his people all night (don’t let him fool you: he’s a fierce working dog, not a mere lap dog).

June 23 – It’s Getting Real! Boarding our Boys…

Ollie

One of the reasons we bought a camper in 2020 was so we could enjoy weekend getaways without having to board our three schnoodles. We call them our four-legged sons. They have definite food preferences, and true to the Schnoodlehood, they are each loyal to their one chosen toy. Fitz has a green turtle he uses to self-soothe, Ollie has a pink Hartz ball he lives to chase, and Boo Radley has a Shrek blanket that of all the things in this world he gets most territorial over. It breaks my heart to have to board them when we take a non-camping trip, so much that I feel tears welling up just thinking about it.

Don’t get me wrong – – we love their kennel, they love their kennel, and they get to stay together in the same crate. They’ll have outdoor playtime with other dogs, but just like siblings, they’ll schnocker and schnortle around at each other in their play-fighting ways while at the same time bringing each other the reassurance of family togetherness while we parents are away.

They don’t dislike the kennel, but they whine and carry on and show their anxiety about leaving home unless they know we are pulling a camper. Fitz will whine like a baby once we get on Highway 362.

All. The. Way. There.

Fitz

Boo Radley will likely lose control of his bowels for one small half second somewhere in the floorboard – usually around the gas station, and it will be like dime-size hail but will smell across three states. It won’t matter if he’s already taken care of this business this morning – – this is his way of showing me – proving – that his anxiety is higher than the St. Louis Gateway Arch and he is protesting being left behind. And Ollie, the most easygoing dog ever, will root his way into my lap just to inhale my exhales as we make our way there.

Their food is individually measured, bagged, and labeled for the week ahead. Their toys are packed next to their treats, and their shot records are all updated and entered into the system at their kennel. While we’ll only be gone a week, there will be no one playing morning tug of war with Briar’s jeans legs, no one putting his warm little muzzle up to my face to greet me first thing in the morning, and no one barking at one of us to throw his ball down the hall so he can run for it again,…and again….and again. No one reminding us about treats. No one waiting for one of us to crush an empty K-cup box with our foot so he can come steal it away, whisk it off to the couch, and chew on it in the living room until we take it away.

They’ve seen the suitcases. They’re suspecting something’s up, but not yet knowing exactly what.

Is it too late to back out? My heart can’t take leaving my babies!

I suppose that’s what sunglasses are really for……

Boo Radley