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LINKS |
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the throw-in: fundraisers |
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Charity of the Day: Boykin
Spaniel Rescue |
| If you're
looking for a worthy cause this
spring, why not consider Boykin
Spaniel Rescue, Inc. This
dedicated group Boykin Spaniel
Rescue, Inc. (BSR, Inc.) is an
organization dedicated to re-homing
unwanted or neglected purebred
Boykin Spaniels. Each Boykin placed
by BSR receives veterinary care and
a temperament evaluation prior to
placement in an adoptive home as
well as being spayed or neutered.
Based primarily in the southeastern
USA, BSR, Inc. is growing into a
national network of volunteers who
regularly contact their area
shelters and veterinarian offices
for Boykins that need help. As of
November 13, 2000, BSR, Inc. became
officially incorporated and has
received 501(c)3 status as a
tax-exempt entity. BSR, Inc.
operates solely on volunteer labor
and from adoption fees and generous
donations from those concerned for
our Little Brown Dogs.
Visit
www.boykinrescue.org
for
more information.
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ADVENTURE
UNLEASHED: MY LIFE WITH BOYKIN
SPANIELS
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Boykin Spaniel Rescue |
The question of 'collar and leash' has
always haunted me a bit, so much so that I
tend to make an apology when slipping a
leash on the dog or a halter on a horse.
To my mind, it's rather like convincing the
groom at a wedding that an ill-fitting
tuxedo will be a temporary restriction.
As a result, I am the proud occupant of a
farm with horses who follow me like dogs and
dogs who run around like canine royalty.
Without the usual scrutiny of neighbors or
the demands of a well-travelled road, our
life beyond the blacktop consists of daily
walks to the river, morning checks to the
horses, and office time punctuated by the
playful nibbling of Miss Skittles, our two
year old Boykin female who came to us afraid
of life itself.
I didn't read the papers that came with
Skittles when she arrived at our house and,
in retrospect, I didn't want to know.
She was found at a primitive kennel outside
of Chicago, the victim of a puppy mill, with
matted hair, open wounds, an ear infection,
worms, and a bleeding nose and feet from
pushing against the confines of a wire cage.
Even worse, perhaps, was her demeanor, one
of pure fright, skepticism, mistrust, and
scurrying to eat what she could and then
scamper away fast.
The first day at our house, she hid behind a
cabinet, wouldn't relieve herself if anyone
could see her and scurried to and fro
looking for scraps of food.
It was, in short, heartbreaking.
"We've got to inspire her," my husband, ever
the pragmatist, said. And so we began, just
pretending that there was no elephant (or in
this case, neurotic Boykin) in the room.
In those days, if you looked at Skittles,
she would drop to the ground, wag her tail,
wet the floor, and cower, employing every
survival skill she had mastered to keep you
from kicking or yelling at her.
Our response to this had to be one of
positive disinterest. We taught her to sit,
with lavish praise, and gave her a task the
moment we encountered her. We looked away
and did not acknowledge her if she was
acting too submissive. No begging allowed!
Just friendly good will, daily walks, and
the discovery that she would sneak over a
hill behind a brush pile for her time alone,
very ladylike and prim.
It worked.
Four months later, Skittles is a
turbo-charged dog of action. She swims every
day in the creek, enthusiastically conducts
solo adventures while we are in hearing
range, and spends her evenings daintily
cleaning her paws and showing a hilarious
set of pearly white teeth.
"SKITTLES!" We announce playfully. And she
responds with an enthusiastic wagging of her
tail and a glee-inspiring, all for fun,
snarl.
The interplay of dogs and humans, for better
or worse, is perhaps the most basic kind of
conversation, a primal sitting at the fire
of life.
And for the dogs of rescue, the question of
a scratch on the ear or an unspeakable act
of greed and cruelty, is ultimately one that
will either elevate or degrade our sense of
what it is to be both humane and human. We
must undo what those of our tribe have done
so poorly.
So Skittles is a new dog and I am a new
woman. Each day with her clarifies my
thinking, makes me glad to be alive,
confirms that I did the right thing by
letting her into my life.
To see her running through the woods is a
total delight, the confluence of a dynamic
ball of energy and an innate sense of
purpose. Skittles leaps over trees, dashes
across hillsides, takes to the water,
flushes turkey at a moment's notice and then
sits, laughing, at my feet.
No leash required.
Copyright 2008 by Donna L.M. Khan for the
express use of Boykin Spaniel Rescue, Inc. |
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