
When Ruby was left at a shelter in Indiana, her entire human family was there--the mother, father, and teenage son and daughter. They wept as they said their last goodbyes to the sweet little German Shepherd who now faced an uncertain future at a shelter with a high kill rate. The father had been deployed to Iraq, and they decided it would be too difficult to keep a dog. As difficult as it was for them to part with a dog they obviously cared for, they probably had no idea the separation would be even more painful for the innocent, confused dog they left behind that day.
People don't understand the depth of canine attachment any more than canines understand people's lack of it. You see, there is a major difference between canine social lives and human social lives. In human families, our children grow up and eventually move out on their own. But for pack-oriented canines, it's natural to spend a lifetime with their families--the apron strings are never cut. Because of this, separation and abandonment are difficult for canines to accept, understand, or adapt to.
I've seen the effect of abandonment on dogs. They may seem sweet and friendly on the outside, but they do not easily redirect their innermost devotion. That part of their hearts was already claimed by the people who abandoned them. Sometimes they run off in search of their old homes. Sometimes they gaze wistfully out the window, as if remembering. Sometimes they become overwhelmed with glee when they see a little girl, because she reminds them of someone they can never stop loving.
For dogs like German Shepherds, which are bred to be exceptionally loyal, abandonment can be especially traumatic. Ruby made this abundantly clear. The first week after I brought her home, she barely ate. She howled pitifully if I left her sight, even if I just went into another room. She carried on relentlessly whenever I left the house. My family's attempts to console her were futile. She could only be described as a total basket case.
It didn't surprise me. The poor pup, not quite a year old, had languished in shelters for almost 3 months. Like a child lost in a foster care system, she had been shuttled between a shelter, a foster home and a veterinary clinic. Car rides made her so nervous she got carsick within a mile. She never knew where the next car ride would leave her. Every new change stripped her of trust and security. She was no longer a family dog, and she no longer had the sense of belonging that is so necessary for canine mental health. Instead, her life had become filled with fear, uncertainty and frustration.
Ruby attached herself to me instantly with the clinging grip of someone desperately trying to hold onto a canyon wall. She was one slip away from falling into an abyss of serious behavior issues. Thank goodness dogs can adapt, and they do. But it can be a painful process for some of them. Adopting a dog isn't just about giving a homeless dog a home; it's also about healing a dog's broken heart.
