Adopting Matilda

At the end of August, 2006, my 18-year-old daughter and I made a trip to our local Humane Society. We would do this two or three times each year, bringing along a 25-pound bag of dog food to donate to the shelter. Of course, like so many other visits we had made in the past, we were NOT going to get another dog…our beloved Dixie had been the perfectly behaved queen of our house for more than six years, and I could never imagine trying to housebreak and train yet another dog.

But…on this sunny and humid afternoon, when we saw the thin, pitiful Australian Shepherd mix (it said “Red Merle” on the papers attached the front of her cage) my heart broke. They told us the dog had “failure to thrive” - she had not eaten in over 10 days, and would barely interact with the staff or visitors. She was depressed and had decided to give up on life. The Aussie-mix was at least 15-pounds underweight, dehydrated, and her hair was dull and brittle. The pads on the bottoms of her tender feet were sore and cracked from the necessary bleach sprays applied to the concrete floors each evening. She did not use the blue plastic pad lying in the center of the floor for rest. Instead, this pup chose to sit in the corner of the kennel, leaning her bony shoulders on the cement walls, her head hung low against her white chest.

The Humane Society told us that when this Aussie-mix puppy was found along Interstate-95, she had tags that identified her from the state of Wyoming, but her owners could never be reached or located. How did a 6-month-old puppy travel over 2,000 miles to our state of Florida? Did someone own this once beautiful puppy and lose her? Or did they become careless and just toss her along the interstate? Had she received any medical care or training? I was soon to find out answers to at least some of those questions.

I could not help myself. My daughter and I asked to have the timid dog brought outside into the hot sun so that we could spend a few minutes with the shepherd, and give her a bit of badly needed love and attention. At first the dog was reluctant to follow us, and she seemed cautious as we coaxed her out of the humid, stinky concrete kennel area and led her into the bright and warm patch of grass. Instantly the dog leaned against our legs and when we stepped, she followed us, tucking herself behind our knees, sticking to us as close as our shadows. We brought her back into the “visiting room” to spend a few more minutes with her, and slowly her tail came out from between her legs and her submissive ears began to perk up slightly as we cooed over her, and pet her, and hugged her.

Here is a photo of the malnourished (20 pounds underweight) and sad pup on
the day we first met her at the shelter:

Finally I called my husband at work (he was a beloved cat lover when we first met, but my cat allergies forbid any feline sons or daughters in our home) and he instantly balked at the idea of a second dog. I am certain visions of the constant fur balls rolling around the corners of our home from Dixie, our current member of the family (Dixie is our 55-pound Border Collie/Chow-Chow mix, so her black fur is plentiful, always), swayed his decision to not want a second dog in the house. I reminded him that Dixie had recently shown signs of slowing down and lately seemed like she was getting “old”, so maybe a young pup would do her good. He still disagreed at the idea, but asked me to email him a picture of the puppy I was so enamored with. My daughter quickly snapped a few photos with her camera phone and emailed them to my husband. A second phone call still brought “no’s” from my husband. As I looked at the pitiful Aussie, I realized my husband was probably not able to see the potentially beautiful girl hidden behind the bony dog that was riddled with malnutrition and depression.

I went to speak to the manager at the front desk, and told her I was considering adopting the puppy, but still had to talk to my husband that night at home. I asked if I could complete an application for adoption, and felt confident that my consistent care of Dixie over these many years, and my great relationship with my vet, would be positives in my favor for being approved. She advised me I would have to bring my current dog in first to check for compatibility, and if that “meeting” between the two dogs was successful and my application were approved, they would spay the pup the following morning to ready her for being picked up. She also told me that if I decided NOT to adopt the dog, I would still be responsible for the surgical expenses of the spaying. I agreed and my daughter and I headed home to bring Dixie back down to the shelter for a visit.

The meeting between the two dogs was extremely uneventful. Dixie is clearly an alpha dog, and she spent just a few moments inspecting the timid pup before she went about her business, exploring the many scents in the grassy patch behind the Humane Society. Neither dog was threatened or bothered by the other, and this action received an approval by the shelter.

Obviously, I spent quite a while convincing my husband that evening. He finally agreed, although somewhat reluctantly, and said the only stipulation was that he wanted to name the dog. He chose to call her “Matilda” (named after the Australian song, “Waltzing Matilda”) and “Tillie” (as we now affectionately call her) was going to become our second dog the following day!

When my daughter and I returned to the shelter the following afternoon, “Tillie” was still groggy as they led her out of the clinic just an hour after she had been spayed. Yet she saw us from across the reception area and her droopy tail raised up as she gave us a couple wags. She not only remembered us, she was happy to see us! My eyes instantly teared up as I walked over to the bony, timid pup, and knelt down and hugged her around her neck. I told her she was coming home. The Humane Society manager gave me a “refund guarantee”, advising me they were not certain this dog was going to last even the next 2 weeks, so she told me if the dog “didn’t make it”, I could always come back and try to adopt another. It saddened me that the shelter knew how strongly Tillie had already given up. But I resolved that I was going to do my very best to change those odds.

We made many discoveries about Tillie very soon after that day. An immediate vet visit confirmed that she was almost 20-pounds underweight, she was somewhere between 6 and 9 months old, but she also had a respiratory infection, she was riddled with fleas and even ticks, and the sore pads on her feet would need some attention. Surprisingly she did not have any tapeworms or heartworms. That was an indicator to us that she indeed had been someone’s pet, at least for a little while. We soon also discovered that she has anal glands that need to be regularly expressed, and she can easily get a urinary tract infection if she doesn’t drink plenty of water constantly throughout the day. However, these are all mild issues compared to Tillie’s positive attributes.

Here is Tillie 4 months after we had adopted her, enjoying her tennis ball presents on her first Christmas with us -
she had already gained 10 of her missing 20 pounds of body weight:

She is so well-behaved, and she became house trained in only two days. At first we kennel trained her, but now Tillie does perfectly fine while we are away, either with or without a kennel. Our girl quickly gained back her weight and is now a gorgeous 38-pound gal, with a colorful, soft and shiny coat, beautiful bright eyes and a wonderful disposition. She rarely barks and only makes her voice heard if it is truly necessary. Tillie quickly learned several commands and still learns more all the time, she loves to go on frequent walks, and if something has fur or feathers, she is mesmerized! Most of all, she loves and respects her older “sister”, Dixie. Tillie comfortably slid into a “#2 dog” position behind the alpha-Dixie, but we all know in this house that one day those positions might change.

Here are a few photos of our healthy, beautiful Tillie now,
2 1/2 years after we brought her home, as she enjoys some playtime in the backyard:

Even now as I write this tale with such a happy ending, Tillie is nudging my knee with her wet nose and placing her head on my lap, which lets me know she just needs a good scratch and a pat. Everyone in our household gives our Aussie so much love and attention, since we all wish she would have never suffered those weeks of heartache and depression. Even my husband scratches her and pets her for hours at night as he sits in his recliner or works at his desk. She won his heart, just like she did ours. Matilda, our now 3-year-old red-merle Aussie-mix, is a permanent addition to our home, and we cannot imagine our lives without her!

Here is a recent photo of Dixie and Tillie "napping" together:

~ I will continue to share true stories with you in the hopes that they may inspire you to take some sort of action -
1) whether to move you to make a small donation to your local shelter,
2) to possibly donate a few hours of your time volunteering at a Humane Society or Rescue near you,
3) to become a foster-home for animals awaiting adoption,
4) or to even become a "furever" home for a needy soul, like we did for Tillie. ~ Thank you!!