.      THIS IS THE STORY OF HOW MY DOG KAYA CAME TO ME—OR RATHER, HOW I WAS BROUGHT TO RESCUE HER. IT IS A STORY OF HOPE, FAITH, AND PERSISTENCE. AFTER LOSING LAKOTA AND ZEAK, I THOUGHT I WOULD NEVER HAVE ANOTHER DOG. BUT LAKOTA AND ZEAK THOUGHT OTHERWISE, SO THEY CREATED A LIGHTPATH TO KAYA. WHAT FOLLOWS IS THE BEGINNING OF HER STORY. THE REST OF HER STORY IS CONTINUED IN WALKING WITH TWO SHADOWS.

SAVING KAYA

.                                                         September 10, 2016
.     In four more days it will be four months since my beloved Lakota left the physical world. The Readers Digest version of the experience is it is the worst pain I have ever suffered. I have survived by spending a lot of time processing his photos and creating several memorials to him. I have not been ready to even think about another dog. When I have had dogs visiting here, I felt uncomfortable if they laid in one of Lakota’s places where he liked to lie. I knew it wouldn’t be fair to another dog to subject him or her to this heavy energy. As I thought about it, I realized that if I ever did get another dog, I would need to get a very different dog so I could keep my thoughts and feelings distinctly separated, in order to be fair to the new dog. I also decided that when I did get another dog, this time it would be a rescue.
.      On Friday afternoon of July 22, as I was driving home from an appointment, I knew it was time, and I knew it was time RIGHT NOW! I had decided I wanted a dog around forty pounds because we were getting older, and it had been very difficult for us to help Lakota when he had mobility problems because he was a big boy. Driven by this deep, urgent feeling, I called all the local shelters, but it was late on a Friday afternoon and no one answered. I looked at pictures, but nothing stirred me, and I really needed to look at dogs in person to feel for a connection.
.      I called my friend, Donna to see if she might know of a specific dog in that size range that one of her rescue contacts had. When I told her what I was feeling, she told me that there was probably a dog trying to find its way to me—a dog that was meant to be mine. As soon as she said the words, I knew she was right. I made a few more calls and finally found a facility—a branch of a top notch, very well known rescue organization—that had several medium sized dogs available for adoption that I could look at right away. I told the woman that I had an exceptional home to offer a dog. A home with a dog door, a huge fenced in yard, off leash hiking trails, a lake, and dog friends. I told her I was an experienced dog person and was willing to adopt an adult dog, because I was confident I could work with any problems that might exist. I offered her my vet’s name and number as a reference. We got in the car—all I brought was my wallet, a slip lead, and a copy of WWTSOL to show them where this dog would be living—and headed west to the facility.
About a half hour later, we pulled into the adoption center. We went inside and walked to the rear of the building where we had been directed. When we reached the adoption desk, I asked the woman if she was Amanda—the woman I had spoken to—and she said that she was. As we talked, a dog in a glass room behind the desk immediately caught my eye and I felt a stirring in my gut—I told Amanda that I thought I saw MY dog. I asked if I could interact with her, walk her, and introduce her to a strange person and a strange dog. The one thing I preferred to not deal with was an aggressive dog, so I needed to check her out. She assured me I could, and asked me to wait a minute while she brought the dog into the meet and greet room. She then came to get us.
.     We walked in and sat down. “Run” looked like a flat coated border collie. She was striking and reminded me a little of—but not too much, so as not to be a problem–a smaller version of The Zeakie Dog with her pretty black and white markings and speckled boots and paws. I especially liked that her long black tail had a white tip. I had admired that feature on a dog I saw at the park a few weeks earlier. For some reason, it appealed to me, and now here it was on this dog I was attracted to.
.      When the dog came over, she seemed timid, so I ignored her and allowed her to sniff me and I asked Bill to do the same with her. Amanda told me that the dog—whom they called “Run”—had just been moved there from their main facility that morning. She had refused to eat all day, and refused to play, even though they had her in a room full of toys. She was a stray and had been in their main facility for a month being vaccinated, flea and tick bathed and treated, parasite treated, spayed, and allowed to heal. Her weight: my exact  dog target weight: forty pounds.
When we took a short walk outside, the dog pulled hard on the leash. “I can work with this.” I thought. Meetings with some volunteers in the store went well and “Run” was friendly and curious. Amanda brought out another rescue dog, and we introduced them. They greeted each other calmly and politely. That, coupled with my strong feelings of attraction and connection to this dog, was enough for me. I told Amanda that I would like to adopt “Run”. I knew that I would be renaming her soon. Before I signed the papers, Amanda told me that the dog had Lyme disease and gave me a bottle of Doxycycline. I told her I was adopting “Run” for “better or for worse,”.
.     We filled out the forms, paid the adoption fee, bought food and some other items, and left to take “Run” home to begin her new life in a loving “forever” home. As we left, Amanda said, “When we spoke on the phone I was hoping you would adopt this dog, and I had a feeling you would. She is a sweetheart!” On the way home, I called my neighbors who owned a very calm and gentle black Labrador. They were very excited and asked when they could see our new family member. I told them I would love them to visit when we got home because I thought having another dog who had such stable energy would help our new girl settle in.
.     When we got home, we went in the back gate. I teared up as I opened the gate and saw the sign that read, “Lakota and Zeak’s Playground.” I let “Run” off leash in her large, beautiful, grassy new yard with the Coyote resistant fence, and she sniffed and explored until our neighbors arrived. She seemed to be somewhat in shock, having been moved twice in one day. After a short visit, we allowed her to explore her new home and fixed her something to eat. Since she had refused to eat all day, I was relieved to see her gobble up her food.
.     We had just sat down in the living room to see if our new girl would play with her toys, when she abruptly shifted gears and went on a rampage of chewing/sucking on a fleece throw in the living room while grinding her teeth. Literally in seconds, there were several large holes in the throw. She then proceeded to pee on the carpet several times in the space of a half hour. The dog seemed to be having some kind of panic attack! She became very hyper. I sat on the floor to see if she would come to me and if I could calm her. She came right over, but as I pet and massaged her she became more excited, and soon she was mouthing me up and down my arms. She wasn’t doing it hard, but this was a five or six year old dog acting like a puppy with no bite inhibition. That coupled with the blanket sucking pointed to one of two things from my body of knowledge: either she was taken from her mother too young or she had been through trauma and was suffering from anxiety. It could be the shock or being abandoned and then moved twice in one day from the only home she had known for the past month.
.     When it came time to go to bed, I went in my room to set up a crate for her. I am not a fan of crates, but I do believe a dog should be acclimated to a crate in case they have to be hospitalized. Since she had been in a rescue for a month, I assumed she was crate trained. I knew I couldn’t leave her loose in the state she was in because she could chew through electric wires or eat the couch! I put one of the fleece throws she had chewed holes in into the crate with a small bucket of water. As I was preparing the crate, she jumped on the bed and before I could remove her, chewed a hole into the fleece blanket on the bed! This sweet, placid dog from the rescue had turned into a one dog house wrecker!
After taking her out to relieve herself, I sent her into the crate. She settled down, but as soon as I got into bed next to her crate, she started screaming at ear shattering decibels! I knew I couldn’t let her out while she was screaming because then she would always do it, but I also couldn’t let her loose in the house when she calmed down because of the chewing rampage. I was concerned that all the fluff she was eating could cause an obstruction. She also ate the coatings off of two tennis balls, so fast that I had no time to take them from her. I decided she would have to spend the night in the crate and it was upsetting because I think she might have been crate-abused (left in a crate most of the time and developed the O.C.D. chewing/sucking to cope. But I couldn’t let her out for safety reasons. I had always raised my dogs from puppies and never had a dog with a behavior problem. However, I was pretty knowledgeable about dealing with them and felt it was time to pay my dues and help a difficult dog get a second chance. As I tried to fall asleep, I couldn’t help thinking that this dog was lucky I rescued her, because in the hands of an inexperienced person, she might have gone right back.  Maybe she had before. Maybe these problems were why such a beautiful dog was in rescue. I was hopeful she could be helped and determined to be the one to do it; however both our new family member and I had a very restless night with little sleep.