“Take him wherever you like, do what you want with him, I can’t take it any more!”
One night while I was on the night shift, I overheard Mark on the phone, sounding irritated, repeating that line. I asked what he meant, and he told me he was giving away his German Shepherd. I asked why. He shrugged: “He’s a nightmare howls at night, breaks free from his chain, sheds like crazy, makes a mess in the yard, doesn’t guard the house.” I felt sorry for the dog, rang my dad and asked if he could use a guard dog on his property. After a while dad called back and said he could take it.
On the big day we piled into the car, grabbed a bandage just in case we needed to tie his mouth shut after all we were going to fetch a “wild beast”. When we got there, Mark met us with the dog a gaunt, ragshagged mutt with bloodied wounds on his head and a torn paw pad. His eyes were so sad it looked like he might burst into tears. The dog hopped into the car on his own, calm, no aggression. In the back seat sat my brotherinlaw, and the pooch lay quiet the whole drive.
At home we first bought a collar and leash and gave him a bath. Mum and Grace peeked from the hallway, watching warily, thinking wed brought in a vicious animal. While we were out, Mum made a pot of meat porridge. When it cooled a bit we offered the dog a slice of bread. It was heartbreaking to watch him lunge at that tiny piece, ignoring his injuries.
A healthy German Shepherd should weigh about 77lb, but this one was down to roughly 44lb. As soon as we set down his bowl he scarfed everything and flopped onto his favourite spot. After a while Mum went to wash the bowl, holding it behind her back. Suddenly she felt something tug it out of her hands. It was Rex thats what wed started calling him gently gripping the bowl with his teeth, bringing it back to his spot and lying down as if to say, Its mine, Ill look after it myself.
We hadnt planned on keeping a fiveyearold male in the flat we thought Mum would object but her heart melted and no one could turn him away after seeing such loyalty. After the bath and a good brush, Rex looked like a new dog. The next day I took him to the vet, got instructions for his wounds, bought the meds and within a couple of weeks hed had all his shots. I didnt blame his previous owners who knows, maybe hed run away and ended up like that on the street.
When he was fully recovered we started training. In summer Dad would take Rex to the cottage, where he turned into a proper guard: no stranger could get near the fence. And no one would dare challenge a 40pound bundle of muscle.
Eight years have passed now. Rex has survived two operations first a hernia, then complications afterwards. His joints ache, arthritis set in, but we keep looking after him, pampering him like a child. Dad calls him son, Mum spoils him just as she would a baby.
I cant understand how anyone could have given up a dog like that. Hes the epitome of devotion and tenderness. Sure, caring for an animal takes effort, but none of us can picture the house without him. If Dad isnt home or one of us is away, Rex gets sad, refuses food, just waits.
A couple of years after Rex arrived, our longtime cat, whod been with the family for over eighteen years, passed away. Then a new kitten showed up in our block a cheeky little thing the neighbours had rescued. I realised I couldnt leave it out in the November chill, so now that mischievous cat, called Lily, lives with us.
People, be kinder to animals. They feel everything pain and love alike. Just choose love.
