by Robert Leardi, MD

I have loved dogs all of my life, but because my parents wouldn’t allow one in the house, I had to wait until I was out of the house and married before getting one. Since then, many dogs have been in my life, and all but one have been shelter dogs.

The one non-shelter dog was a retired show dog—a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. She was a beautiful 10-year-old, extremely affectionate dog who, like all the dogs in my life, quickly bonded with me. After three months, she suddenly collapsed and died.

Afterward, my daughters began sending me photos of dogs from local shelters. One that caught my eye was a mixed-breed rescue named Sheba, thought to be under six years of age. She reminded me of my first dog, Prince, a Springer Spaniel mix who bonded with me instantly and seemed always to know want I wanted him to do without being asked. He also knew when I was coming home, although my arrival times varied. When we walked, he was at my side, never needing a leash.

Sheba’s adoption records showed that she had been seized by authorities in West Virginia “from a bad situation.” Like so many rescue dogs from the South, she was transported to the North for adoption. I adopted her in June 2023 through a local rescue, Hinde Animal Rescue in Media, PA.

Sheba

Sheba bonded with me quickly, but her mistreatment caused her to be terrorized by almost everything and everyone else. When I stopped to talk with neighbors on our daily walks she would whimper and pull away. Traffic frightened her, as did anything sudden or different. With me, Sheba was calm. I felt honored to be trusted by her and sought ways to expand her sense of safe. A dog psychologist evaluated her but was unable to help her beyond prescribing Fluoxetine, which had to be halved due to side effects.

The elements of time and loving patience seem to have helped the most. It’s been two years since I adopted Sheba, and she now sits or lies down patiently when I talk to neighbors, and her fear of traffic has passed. She is a low-energy, calm dog who loves to walk slowly, doesn’t pull, and walks with a slack leash. She refuses to play fetch, and when I throw a ball for her, it is I who has to retrieve it. Sheba smiles when she looks at me and has become the love of my life. She has become the companion that she is because she lives in a consistently loving environment. I suspect I have derived as much comfort from living with her as she has from living with me.

A tribute to all the dogs that have been in my life.