Larry's Dog Story

This dog story is about our Alaskan Husky named Larry.

Larry came from a neglect situation. I know this, because I was working at the animal shelter when he was dropped off. I watched the guy dump (literally) Larry onto the floor from a crate. It was always hard to stomach this stuff. Working at a shelter was hard to stomach sometimes. Yes, one of my 'duties' included euthanizing animals. There were many good people who adopted animals from our shelter, so the good with the bad as the saying goes. And yes, I wanted to take them all home. I am a realist though, and know having more dogs than I can handle was not the answer.

Larry was different. I HAD to take him home. I can't explain it. He was actually adopted, and I was trying to talk the adopters out of taking him. They adopted him anyway (good thing they didn't listen, or I wouldn't have a dog story). The next day they brought him back and apologized, but knew he was not going to work for them. I told them how smart it was that they decided before it was late in the game. I took that as my sign (I would have used anything as a sign at that point). I adopted him and brought him home.

About this same time I met my husband (yup, a love story AND a dog story). He was willing to work with Larry. We started calling Larry Scarey Larry because he was afraid of everything. My husband was used to working with love me dogs. Labs, German Shepherds...people pleasing dogs. He was a trooper about Larry. He was also up to the frustrating challenge of working with an abused dog that also happened to be a husky. Did I mention he was a trooper?

The first time my husband tried to take Larry for a walk, Larry made it about 350 feet down the road, and just pancaked. Larry glued his entire body and all paws to the road and wouldn't budge. My husband stood there for almost 20 minutes trying to coax Larry back home.

One day, my husband exclaimed I'm never taking Larry out again. When I asked why... he replied Because everyone thinks I abuse him. He pancakes all over the place and when people see that they just shake their heads. I just want to give him back to the shelter. That of course, was out of the question. (This is not going to be a sad dog story.) He was giving up, and he had been dutifully trying for over 6 months.

Then one early morning Larry acted like he needed to go outside to pee. I put him on his tie out. The early morning-right outside the door-just for a pee-tie out. It was made of climbing rope, and was only 9 feet long (read that... mistake number one).

I usually just stood inside the warm house and watched out the window because if I was anywhere near Larry he would just stand and look at me and never actually pee. For some reason, this time I was distracted away from the window. When I returned to peak back out the window, Larry had chewed through the rope and was gone. I freaked out and frantically pulled on winter clothes over my pajamas. All I could get out was chewed though! chewed through!

We looked everywhere.

When I finally stopped freaking out and came to my senses, I realized Larry had probably not gone very far. He was not secure enough to venture too far. Sure enough, by the time I had returned to the house my husband had spotted Larry in the front yard. Larry was still afraid of everything (including my husband), and was not food motivated, so enticing him with treats was out of the question.

Our next idea was to open the door to the house where our old dog Schmedley was still sleeping. We hoped this would somehow entice Larry inside. Schmedley poked his head out the door to see what all the excitement was about. I think he took one look at Larry and gave him the silent dog signal that said get the hell in here nut job!

Finally, after about 30 minutes, Larry slinked inside the house.

At that moment, my husband turned to me and said Man, you sure don't know how much you love something until it's gone.