See that crazy beast? Yep, that’s my pup. Adopted about a year and a half ago from the Humane Society of Western Montana, Freckles has become a part of my life I couldn’t live without.
This picture was taken a few weeks ago on one of our favorite hikes.
Today, a much warmer, snow-free, almost spring-like day, I came home from work, thinking about all the items waiting for me on my to-do list, took one look at Freckles’s face and strapped him to a leash, not because I was looking forward to a leisurely walk, but because I couldn’t resist the hopeful look in his eyes. It was out of guilt that I leashed him and drove him down to the river.
Of course, it only took 10 minutes before all thoughts of my to-do list, dinner plans and friend-related drama disappeared. Freckles found a path down to the water, jumped in immediately, and began splashing around like he’s never seen a river before. My quick trip to the river turned in to an hour-long stroll through brush, sand and melting snow (resistant little suckers, those drifts…).
People who don’t own dogs will never understand what they can teach you. The first time I walked into Freckles’s kennel at the shelter, he tried to make himself melt into the floor. If he could have dug out and run away, he would have been long gone. I suspect that he was abused, though it was never confirmed. I sat on the floor of his little cell until he got up and sniffed my hand. As I walked with him along the path behind the shelter, I knew he would be coming home with me. I’d taken a volunteer position to temper my need to own a dog; instead, it was God’s way of helping me find my perfect match.
Freckles was considered a “hard adoption”. He had been in 2 different shelters and 3 different foster homes in his first year. I took him home as the fourth foster parent a month before his first birthday. On the day he turned one, I adopted him. He refused to go under bridges; he was terrified of men, having accidents on the floor every time my boyfriend would walk in the room without me; and he didn’t like to be petted. He much preferred to sit across the room and examine you skeptically.
A little over a year later, and this happy, splashing dog in the river is hard to compare to that sad, scared animal who hid in my closet the first day I brought him home. He meets me at the door everyday, wagging his tail. His favorite activities include hiking, being brushed, chasing his squeaky football and going on playdates. Freckles has learned to trust, love, nurture and beg for every piece of food he can. Regardless of what happened to him in the first year of his life, he has moved so far past it that as he walks down this river path with me, the only thing on his mind is the sunshine, the river and the golf balls he could snag from the course next to us if I would just let him off leash.
It might sound cliche or even a little cheesy, but I wish I could be that carefree. Instead of worrying about things I can’t change with work, family, friends, enemies; I wish I could just brush it off and stroll alongside the river in the sunshine. At least for today, I can.
