My Happy ❤️🐶🐾
The quality of the first picture sucks. But that’s how we got Happy. Evelynne, our daughter, was 3. We’ve had him in our family for five years.
Happy was about a year old when my husband went to the shelter, expecting to adopt a beautiful blue pit we had been looking at online. We wanted to rescue, and she was gorgeous, and still a puppy. When he got there, he found out she was food aggressive which is NOT a good idea when you have a three year old in the house.
They suggested Happy for us instead. Justin met him and brought him home that same day.
Happy had been chained to a tractor tire in Pender county his entire life. We weren’t sure how long he had been in the shelter. He has just been fixed, so we couldn’t even bathe him for a week after we got him which sucked, because he was very dirty and very miserable.
He was skinny. So skinny. This picture doesn’t really do it justice. When Justin walked in with him, I just sat in the floor and cried a little bit with him. You see animals like this on videos, TikTok’s that hopefully have a happy ending. You try to ignore it because, well…. It’s SAD.
It wasn’t long before we learned that he wasn’t just neglected. He was timid, afraid of your touch. My dad came over to meet him a few days after we brought him home and sat in the floor, spoke to him from the other end of the hallway. Happy urinated all over himself in fear. He shook and cowered, ran to hide if you stood up from the couch too fast or when he wasn’t expecting it. Despite his obvious hunger, he wouldn’t approach his food bowl until I walked away from it. I don’t think he had ever been inside of a house until he stepped into ours. There were times he’d urinate on himself where he was laying, as if he didn’t even have the strength or mental/physical wellbeing to stand up and walk somewhere else.
That first day, Evelynne shared her crayons with him. He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he sat closer to her than he did to us. I remember thinking “Yes. We made the right choice.” He didn’t fear her, or hide from her. She, however, is not exactly an animal person. She wasn’t the type to cuddle with Happy or pet him often. She talked to him, but she was never very touchy. I think that might have been good for him in those first few months. Her ability to include him in things without the need for a human hand to connect with his body.
By the time our son, Alaric was born, Happy was a completely different dog. No longer afraid of people. Healthier. “Happier”. Alaric IS an animal person, and we learned that when he could crawl. He seemed to migrate toward Happy. Like magnets, anywhere one of them was the other wouldn’t be far behind. I think this friendship was built on the trail of snacks Alaric left behind him, and Happy just thankful for the goldfish.
Happy still isn’t much of a cuddler. He loves to be pet and he loves to eat. He loves treats and running. He no longer urinates on himself when a person speaks to him. You can’t count his ribs from across the room. He loves being outside, and he loves his tiny humans, especially the littler one that gives him snacks.
Instead of running away from strangers, he barks at them. Unless he sees me speaking to them, and then he’s always ready to make a new friend. He follows me to every room I go to, except the bathroom because he knows I might be trying to sneak in a bath.
I feel safer with him in my house. My heart is fuller when I look down and see him staring up at me.
When you lose all your friends, regardless of the reason why, something happens between you and your animal. When you grow from one version of yourself to another, when the healing process gets difficult, when the painful parts of change hit your Right Now, you look around for someone to give you comfort. To offer a shoulder. Who understands. But sometimes, you don’t find a human who does, or a person who can. You find God, the person in the mirror, and if you’re lucky, your dog looking up at you. Something changes then. They aren’t just your dog anymore. Apart from your family; your husband, your kids, your mom…. That dog becomes somebody you need. Somebody you owe something to.
Somebody that was gentle with your babies. Somebody that was near when you needed closeness. Somebody that needed you, at one point, but you never expected that love you poured into them to be poured right back into your own glass.
Your friends are great. They always will be. Having friends is one of life’s great blessings. But friendship is fleeting and people come into your life to serve a purpose and often dont feel an obligation to stick around after that purpose is served and you dont understand that until you need one. And thats fine because its normal.
But a dog’s purpose is different. Their purpose is to stay.
So do me a favor today and go tell your dog I said ‘Hi.’ 🐶
Happy September 1st.
Adopting a rescue dog like Happy can be a transformative experience, not only for the dog but for the entire family. Many shelter dogs come with a history of neglect or trauma, requiring special care and patience to help them adjust to a loving home. It's important to understand that dogs like Happy may initially display fear or anxiety, such as trembling, avoiding touch, or even urinating from stress. These behaviors stem from their past hardships and unfamiliarity with a safe environment. Building trust with a traumatized dog involves consistent kindness and gentle interactions. Simple actions, like allowing the dog to approach on their terms and avoiding sudden movements, can create a sense of security. As seen in Happy's story, having a calm presence, like a child who included him without overwhelming physical contact, can ease their adjustment period. Nutrition and medical care also play a vital role in the recovery process. Shelter dogs that come in skinny or dirty often need vet check-ups, vaccinations, and sometimes a period of restricted activities, such as avoiding baths immediately after surgery. Gradually, proper nourishment and hygiene contribute to improved health and energy levels. The bond between children and rescue dogs can be especially healing. Kids often bring a playful spirit and patience that can help a shy dog open up. Mutual affection grows through shared experiences, like snack times or outdoor play, reinforcing emotional connections. Moreover, having a rescue dog at home often provides emotional support to family members. The unconditional love and companionship offered by dogs can be a source of comfort during challenging life transitions. Happy’s story emphasizes how pets can become essential family members who offer safety, joy, and emotional healing. If you’re considering adopting a shelter dog, be prepared for a journey that requires empathy and commitment. The rewards are immense; witnessing a scared animal bloom into a happy, confident pet is deeply fulfilling. Remember, rescue dogs' purpose is to stay and love—they repay every ounce of care with unwavering loyalty. So today, give your furry friend extra love or consider welcoming a rescue dog into your home. Their stories of survival and transformation inspire us all to show kindness and hope every day.
