[Dailydrool] Pupnapped

[Elizabeth]

Young Charlie’s arrival was similar to Mia's. We met his family in a library parking lot and transferred him into our SUV. He ignored our Elsinore and looked out the back window for his family all the way to our house. The first thing we did with him was go for a long walk on the woods trails in Shelby Park near our home with the hope of tiring him out enough that he’d sleep through the night without crying. 

Charlie didn’t seem to be used to other dogs, and Elsinore, who was off leash, picked up on that. She decided it’d be fun run up behind him and goose him. Then she’d laugh. She went right back on the leash after the second time and was told she was being a real jerk and we were disappointed in her. The extra-happy bounce in her step and toss of her head told us she didn’t care what we thought. Even after Elsinore had been leashed and kept at a bit of a distance from him, Charlie didn’t seem to enjoy the walk very much. I’m sure he was wondering why he was with us, if he was going to be left in the woods, where his family was, and when he’d be returned to them.

We got him home, and he was interested in the smells of the house and ate his dinner. But after dinner, when Ken and I sat on the sofa to watch some TV before bedtime, Elsinore on a dog bed nearby, Charlie refused all our invitations to join us. He curled up on a small rug in the hallway off the living room and looked very small and very sad. 

Charlie grieved the loss of his family deeply for a long, long couple of weeks. Nothing we did could make him happy. It was heartbreaking to watch. All we could do was wait for time to make his grief less acute. 

His family had given him up to Bluegrass Basset Rescue because he was too destructive and they were disappointed he wasn't more docile. My guess is that they'd bought into the erroneous impression that bassets are low-energy dogs. They can become that way over time, but when they’re ten months old and perfectly healthy, they have as much energy as any normal puppy. Charlie had learned that he could get their attention by being naughty and negative attention was better than none at all. Apparently, he kept amping it up until they couldn’t take his misbehavior and wanton destruction any more. 

Charlie, of course, didn’t know why he had been separated from the only people he could remember. He only knew that we had put him in the car and driven off with him, and his “real” family wasn’t coming to take him home again. 

Something I learned from this was that Charlie was a hound who loved deeply. When he gave his heart to someone, he gave his whole heart, his entire being to them. Rejection of his love wounded him to the core. Which is one of the reasons why we asked BBR if we could stop fostering him and adopt him as ours. I couldn’t bear the thought of him going through such sharp, prolonged grief again. He belonged with us, and we belonged with him. He eventually gave up on his first family and offered his heart and all his love to us, but it took time. 

It also took him time to warm up to and trust Elsinore. When he finally did, he’d ask her to play with him often throughout the day, and she always, always obliged. I grew up with a little sister five years younger than I, so I could appreciate how gracious she was about getting up to play with the puppy every single time he asked. For a while during her senior years, she surprised us by turning more playful. But when she’d ask Charlie to play with her, he wouldn’t. I’d remind him of how nice Elsinore had been about playing with him whenever he wanted he was a puppy, and he’d just look at me and walk off. 

About a year after Charlie had been with us, I invited his family to come over for a visit. They’d wanted to come earlier, but I said he needed more time to settle in and feel as if our home was really his now. Charlie recognized them immediately and seemed happy to see them, but when it was time for them to leave, he didn’t show any signs of wanting to go with them. When I later shared this with a pet psychic at one of the basset picnics, she said he told her he liked living with us but still felt very hurt by his first family’s rejection of him. They saw him again just before we had to move from Nashville, when Charlie was about ten years old. Again, he remembered them, but this time he wasn’t terribly interested in interacting with them.

Reading of Mia’s grief for the loss of her human brought these memories back. Charlie recovered from the abandonment and rejection he felt, and I’m sure Mia will, too. It’s the interval between the unexpected loss and the realization that the new place, people, and hounds can also be appreciated, enjoyed, even loved that’s hard. If I had a hound here, I’d be bringing out the cheese to ensure that comforting drool is sent her way. As it is, she'll have to make do with kind human thoughts. I’ll send some to her human as well. It cannot have been easy for him to have to let her go. I am so sorry for both of them, having to go through the loss of each other because of circumstances neither of them wanted. 

Elizabeth