This is Mercy, formerly named Trouble.
I wasn’t going to foster again, but I armtwisted myself into this one. Although two rescue groups, furrydoc, and her staff have already gone several extra miles for her in the last couple of weeks, she’s a little hard case who needs all the help she can get. How to count her disadvantages?
* About 10 years old
* Deaf (or nearly so)
* Not housebroken
* Suffering antibiotic-resistant skin sores (though fortunately furrydoc, who’s very good at such things, persuaded a local pharmacy to donate meds that appear to be helping)
* Not gaining weight despite loving care and fancy-schmancy no-grain, hypoallergenic food.
* Stressed to the max and desperately missing the man she’s loved all her life.
Said man is in prison (child molesting, I believe). He handed her off to friends when he went away. They starved her.
Fortunately, his ex-girlfriend took custody of her and turned her over to local rescuers.
I didn’t realize it when I picked her up this afternoon, but she’s from my neighborhood. First thing she did when I got her home was escape the yard when I went inside for a minute. But furrydoc’s office assistant (best observer and critter-networker around — Hi, T!) knew exactly which couple of drug houses Mercy would most likely bee-line for — places her human used to hang out. And one of those is where I found her.
Poor thing, though — she’s within sniffing distance of places she thinks of as “home” and cruel, rotten me is holding her captive. She’s protesting at the moment in a voice that sounds like a rooster trying to crow while being held under water and garrotted. Horrific noise. And loud enough that I fear I’d better go over and explain to the neighbor. (“I’m really not torturing helpless farm animals. Honestly, it’s just a very sad, very bereft dog.”)
Would love to let Mercy hang out with the family. She’s mild-mannered and already gets along fine with Ava and Robbie. But not ’til you understand that my rug’s not your personal potty, girly. Sorry.
How does anybody have a dog for nine or ten years, take her everywhere (which her former owner, however irresponsible otherwise, did) and somehow not house train her? People. Very strange beasts.
But she loved that man and in his way he loved her, and now she just gazes off in the direction of “home” and wonders why I won’t open the gate and let her go.