This is the story of the little dog that could.
When I was 12, our dog Snuffy died. We were all really sad, and we decided that we didn't want another one so soon. It wouldn't feel right to add another family member so soon after Snuffy's death.
A week after her funeral in the garden, My Mom came home with the funniest looking dog I'd ever seen. My Mom works in a health unit, and one of the ladies she works with was telling her that she had rescued this wonderful little dog from the side of a highway, half starved and beaten
. She already had 8 Rottweilers, and she really couldn't keep Sebastian any longer without taking out a second mortgage on her home. She put adds in the paper for a free dog, but 2 monthes later she was sadly considering putting him down. That's when my Mother intervened. We lived on a big farm, so she knew the dog would love the change from the cramped backyard it was currently sharing with 8 rotties.
Seb was a Pembroke Welsh Corgi (or so our vet told us) crossed with a german shepard, if you can believe it. He had a long Corgi's body, with black, tan and white colouring, with a german shepard's ears and tail. He was just a teeny bit taller than a corgi, and with a longer body.
The first night we had Seb, he slept curled up in a little miserable ball in the porch. Everytime one of us went near him, he would start shaking like he was afraid we would beat him. My Dad was the one who would comfort Seb, petting him, feeding him by hand, he bathed him and slowly he gained Seb's trust and respect. Seb slept upstairs and everywhere else soon after that, and he no longer cringed away when a hand was extended towards him. He seemed to let go of whatever demons were haunting him, and he was like a puppy again, so full of life and love. He was smart as a whip, and would jump in the air to catch treats, would seem to know when you needed to feel his comforting presence beside you, tail thumping with big brown sympathetic eyes on your face as he'd lick your hands. He was just the best dog I ever knew.
Seb loved to chase the cows on the farm. He would go everywhere my Dad went, and I mean everywhere. He would follow the tractor out to the corrals, and then bark at the cows (until one turned to look at him, of course, and then he'd fly off in the other direction like a shot!). Seb would sleep in the old doghouse in the summer monthes, and one morning I lifted the flap on my way to school to find him sleeping peacefully along with about 10 farm cats crammed in there! Seb just loved the cats. He would never pester them, and he would lie contentedly and patiently on the grass in front of the barn while frisky kittens would play with his tail and pull on his ears. If you caught his eye, though, he'd give you a look like, "One day, when you have kids, you'll understand..."
Seb's biggest accomplishment was bringing the family together. When my brother and I were teenagers, we were rebeling, and you know, being teenagers. If we sat at the table thinking we had nothing at all in common with our "uptight and uncool" parents, in would stroll Seb and we'd forget all about it. Seb was the glue that helped hold the family together.
Then one day, Seb started having problems getting around like he used too. We all thought it was arthritis, but then one morning, Dad got up to feed the cows, and like every other morning Seb got up to faithfully follow Dad outside. But Seb couldn't walk. He tried. Dad came upstairs with tears in his eyes carrying him. Seb was dragging his backlegs behind him. My Mom took the day off and we missed school to take Seb to the vet. The vet informed us that Seb's spine was slowly deteriorating, and only surgery would save him. We didn't care how much it cost. My parent's spent the vacation money they'd been saving for two years on Seb's surgery. Seb wasn't a dog-Seb was family.
Three weeks later, Seb was back home and recovering. He was on medication, but he could walk! Even the farm cats looked relieved when we took Seb home.
Sadly, it didn't last. Six monthes later, Seb was dragging his back legs again. I remember talking to him, telling him how much we all loved him and that we wouldn't give up on him. I remember the listless, defeated look in his eyes. Seb knew then what I didn't. There was no saving Seb. His german shepard blood cruely ensured that his spine was too long for his body to support. He was partly paralyzed for life. The vet confirmed it. Nothing would help Seb. He stopped eating. He would just lie there, and whine each morning when he tried to haul his numb torso off of his bed to faithfully follow his best friend, my Dad. Dad would carry him where ever he went for a while, but we could see that Seb was suffering. Dad was even tube feeding him, forcing him to eat, keeping him alive. As much as it hurt us, we knew we couldn't let him suffer any more. Seb was a farm dog, and he couldn't do what he loved anymore. He was miserable and starving himself to death. We put Seb down. My Dad still has his collar, and it's been 6 years and he has stolidly refused to get another dog. I don't want one either. Neither does my brother, or my Mom. It just wouldn't be Seb-it just wouldn't be right...
The moral of this story is to get your dog spayed/neutered when you aren't planning on "having" puppies. There are so many homeless, and in Seb's case abused, dogs out in the world, and it's mostly because of people not spaying or neutering their dogs, and then having unwanted, unloved puppies. Not to mention the genetic consequenses of having two different breeds mate and produce offspring with genetic weaknesses and defects. Save the dogs the pain of being unwanted and ill, and save the owners the sadness of losing a dog to a genetic defect.