Dudley, having a wee nap on Tuesday.
Keeping on the theme of dogs who come from shelters, or rescue, having the undeserved reputation of being broken, Dudley was, as I've often mentioned, in bad shape when he came to us. He'd suffered serious injuries at the track, and he was profoundly scared of people. Especially me. The first night he was home, I reached out to pet him while he was lying at my feet, and he jumped up, peed on himself in fright, and ran away.
I cried. Partly because I was afraid this dog I already loved would never trust me, and partly because I was mourning whatever had happened to him to make him so frightened.
He's been here four and a half years now. Yesterday morning, when I woke up, he was lying across the back of my legs, with his head on my bum, fast asleep. I didn't even realize it was him, until I opened my eyes and saw Zelly, who usually takes up residence on my legs sometime after I fall asleep, lying on the floor beside the bed. Dudley's never done that before.
The president of the rescue says Dudley was the brokenest dog off the track he's ever seen, out of the thousands and thousands of greyhounds they've rescued.
Some dogs in need of rescue are "broken." Some of them badly. They deserve a chance, too.
If I'd passed on Dudley, because he came with lots of problems, I'd never have awoken yesterday with 75 pounds of love on my legs, keeping me warm. In every way.
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