This week, my dog rolled over and wanted me to rub his belly. It was a small thing that I’d taken for granted with every other dog I’ve owned. But when my tiny little Boston Terrier rolled over on his back and looked up at me, I almost cried. Carl was an abused dog. In seven months with this little creature, this was the first time he’d ever wanted his belly rubbed.
Loving an animal that has been abused is definitely not easy. Honestly, I understand why lots of people just want some purebred, AKC-registered pet. We want our pets to be our best friends. We want them to adore us. We want them to trust us, but things are a lot harder when they just can’t trust us.
Adopted or rescued animals aren’t always quick to love or to open up. They are suspicious of their new homes. They are extremely territorial over their food. Sometimes they are on the offense. They are almost always on the defense. As much as we try to remind ourselves that they just can’t help it and that it is nothing personal, it hurts that they feel like they have to be defending themselves from us.
When I swoop down to pet him, he shrinks away from me. When Mom reaches her hand down to scratch him behind the ear, he ducks his head. He will probably never play fetch. He whimpers and crawls away when you pick up a stick. One night, my dad said he took his belt off when he got home from work, and Carl instinctively ran away from him. There is absolutely nothing emotionally easy about bringing home an animal that has been abused or neglected. Integrating them into your family is a lengthy practice in patience, understanding, and love.
Little by little, it gets better. Eventually, they begin to see that they can count on you to feed them and give them water every day. They learn that you aren’t going to hit them for any reason—not even when they are bad. They begin to lay on the opposite end of the couch and inch their way ever closer into your lap. Then there comes the great change.
Little by little, or sometimes in a blink, that once scared and shaken creature is comfortable. All of their misconceptions about having a family are broken. They go from needing to guard themselves to desperately needing love. They need to be held and pet and to have their bellies rubbed. They do tricks over and over and over again for treats that aren’t even that great because, for the first time in their life, they are not just owned. They are loved.
And it has to be one of the most humbling experiences that you can have in this life. You know that all the love and treats and belly rubs can never make up for what they went through, but you will never stop trying. That extra love in their eyes, that inexplicable gracious whimper that they let out just because someone is being good to them will always be worth all the trials that bring you to this place of love and trust. It’s pawsatively breathtaking.
