Timmy was too frightened to walk. He had Traumatic Stress Disorder. Before coming to Animal Control in a hot truck bed, he’d been free to gambol about the dirt roads and grassy spaces he loved. He must have been born near the house. Every night the woman put out a tin pan of scraps for him and his siblings. He didn’t think the unsmiling woman would hurt him, but the man who lived in the rural house had kicked him and yelled, “Git!” when he was younger. He knew humankind was to be feared and avoided. He squinted, grovelling as low as he could make himself, rather than make eye contact with them.
Timmy peed when a door clanged. It meant the inmates were coming near. They wore clompy boots, too, just like the man in the house. He shook when an inmate clattered open his cage to spray water in the metal bowl. When we first encountered him, to take his photo, he crawled under the 2” plastic bed in his cage with his rear to us. [He thought that would make him invisible]. And when we climbed into his cage to lay hands on him, he thought he would surely meet his maker. He was puppy-made-petrified wood.
Timmy’s photo went to rescue groups across the U.S. and Canada. He had to be carried days later when we wanted him out in the sunshine to socialize with his kind; he was too stupefied to come out from under his bed. But Timmy’s picture had been seen by a lady in Ohio, and she didn’t mind that he was so fearful he voided himself. ‘It made him more lovable,’ she said. She couldn’t wait to get him – she called her credit card in to a local boarding facility, where he would wait in quarantine for 10 days. We luckily found someone else who paid for his health inspection and beginning vaccines.
This common, backwoods mixed-breed puppy was gently handled from then on – with Special Instructions! – and made it, by hook and by crook, to Ohio. Timmy’s new mom, Marianne, had gone shopping prior to his arrival. She’d raised a son, so what trouble was a puppy with a leaky bladder? Months later, his name is Raphael, after the painter. [Her 20 year old son corrects her: it’s for one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!] And Timmy wags hard, and bounds around them, and they’re in love with him.
It is donations like yours that helps sweet dogs like Timmy find new loving homes. Every dollar counts and we so appreciate your help with this worthy cause. Timmy thanks you, too!