Caerau Hopefuls

Five months ago I filled in an application form for a dog (or two) that needed a forever home. We didn’t pick a dog or obsess over profiles or availability. We knew we wanted to give a home to one or two dogs that needed it and didn’t set our heart on any dog, knowing that we would love whoever we were lucky enough to be matched with. Four months ago Bea and Sam moved in.

Was it easier or harder with two in one go? I have been asked that but I’m not qualified to answer it! I only know our reality of two, I can take a guess at the pros and cons of one but we knew that one way or another we would end up with two so why not bite the bullet if the situation was right! Sam and Bea are half siblings from the same racing kennel who were kennel together at the rescue but I still wouldn’t call them overly bonded. They like each other, will look for the other when they aren’t available but don’t cuddle up together and like their own spaces in separate rooms.

Bea is a very people oriented dog – she needs people to be around and Sam was a very dog focused dog who needed another dog to follow and learn from. We are fortunate enough to have very flexible work environments and have always had a “work from home” option – I would sometimes travel over to the dark side of the bridge for customer meetings but these were infrequent and likely to be less so in the future thanks to Covid. This made us (hopefully) a pretty good match for Sam and Bea – enough time, space and love for the two of them.

I’m not going to pretend every minute of the last four months has been easy – there was a learning curve for everyone. Sam spent the first evening trying to get over the gate to follow his Aunty Sandra back to the kennels and spent weeks pacing, cowering and startling over the smallest things (frequently things that hadn’t been a thing the day before). They have been days when I’ve cried because it seemed like we just couldn’t help him understand he was safe and we just wanted him to be happy. It took an interesting adjustment on our part as well as his – I adjusted my world view to redefine happy for him as well as us. As long as he was content, safe, warm and fed, that was ultimately all that mattered. He didn’t need to be anything else – whilst I might have imagined sofa cuddles and games with a ball, the reality was for Sam might be that that could be a step too far. So reducing the pressure on us to “make him happy” and just taking baby steps, we have progressed further than I could have possibly imagined. He still doesn’t want to cuddle on a sofa but will come upstairs to find me during the day and look very pleased and content to settle himself on the bed behind me.

Bea loved all the comforts of a house, availing herself of sofas, patio furniture (my god the love affair this dog has with the patio furniture) and the grass in the garden for a snooze in the sun. For all her love of being in a home and the ease with which she seemed to settle, she still had her own insecurities and issues, that whilst not in your face as obvious as Sam’s pacing, still took time to settle. She will always be a people dog, but she could not grasp (and I’m not sure she fully has yet) that her people here will always come back to her and won’t leave her on her own. If you leave a room, Bea would be a shadow, if you sat down she would be on your lap – desperate for some love and affection. She is slowly learning that she doesn’t have to grab that at every point, that she can curl up next to us rather than on us and be just as safe and loved.

I was asked today if I had any regrets. That’s an emphatic no. There were days that were harder than I could have possibly imagined. I don’t think its an exaggeration to describe the dogs as institutionalised trauma victims – scarred both physically and mentally. Things that seem so simple to us and simple to dogs that have grown up in a home environment can be Herculean efforts for these. Bea has a total issue with the stairs and will not attempt them for any amount of coaxing with the finest treats, choosing instead to stand and cry if everyone else is upstairs. Sam will turn tail and run if cutlery and crockery make a noise.

The rewards though…. these are beyond greater than I could have imagined a thousand times over. Simple joys that you might take for granted – Sam choosing to join us in the dining room while we are eating rather than cowering in the hall, Bea putting her head on your knee quietly while you are watching tv, emphatic wags of a tail and a bounce up and down when you come downstairs in the morning or back from a trip to the shop or the best of all, their quiet contentment at just being with us. As I’m writing this, Bea is next to me on a sofa and Sam stretched out on a floor bed (this is a room it took him weeks to come into at all), both snuggled down with contented groans and are fast asleep. Safe and secure in our company, warm, well fed and loved. I’m not sure any of us could ask for any more at this point.