When Diamond first came to live at my house, I noticed that she had diarrhea. As the days passed, the diarrhea did not clear up, and she began to show signs of an upper respiratory infection. Her appetite waned, and she began to lose weight. One morning she was lethargic and cold to the touch. I prepared a hot pack to nestle her against and took her to the vet, fearing she might not survive the day.
Her blood sugar was low and she was dehydrated, but after 24 hours at the vet she had perked up and was ready to come home. With antibiotics and a probiotic supplement, her eyes cleared up and her stool became firm within a few days. Her appetite and energy level returned to normal. Thank goodness!
Tidbit was originally rescued by a local pure-breed rescue group when they went to a home to rescue a dog of their breed. The volunteer saw Tidbit, a mutt with no sign of the rescue's breed in his mix, and felt she couldn't leave without him. He was emaciated, covered in ticks, pus was oozing from his ears, and his nose was crusted with snot. His owner said he had allergies; the volunteer knew it was more than that, and that he would die if he stayed in that home. She called the breed rescue's director and received permission to take the dog out of the home and bring him directly to the vet hospital for diagnosis and treatment, even though they had no foster home for him.
The director of this pure-breed rescue group called other rescue groups asking for help with Tidbit. At first, my group offered to assist with his medical bills, but told her that our foster homes were full. The breed rescue rep supposedly found him a foster after about a week, but the foster brought him back to the vet hospital after 24 hours, saying, "He tried to climb my fence, he chewed my furniture, and he peed on my floor." Two weeks later, my group received a call from the vet hospital: the rescue group who had saved his life had given up on finding him a foster home, and no longer wished to pay for his boarding, so they had asked the vet hospital to euthanize him.
The vet who had been treating Tidbit was very unhappy with this turn of events. When he first came to the vet hospital, Tidbit was so frightened and sick, he wouldn't eat for several days; but with kindness and medication for his advanced case of tick fever (erlichiosis) and severe ear infection, he slowly began to gain weight and return to health. He became a favorite of the vet techs. One of my rescue group's volunteers visited him there, and melted when she saw his sad, haunted eyes; she described him as a "broken soul". There was no way we could let him die. So, I brought him home.
Sure enough, he tried to climb my fence at first; he lifted his leg in my house; he pulled the bottom of my bedroom curtains and the strap of a carrying case into his crate and chewed them. So, we don't let him outside without supervision; he quickly stopped trying to climb the fence. After a couple of days and a few gentle corrections, he quit lifting his leg in my house. OK, so he chewed on my sandals yesterday, but he is learning to go into his crate and he loves to play with my dog Darby, when he's not snoozing on the couch. So in my book, he's a very good boy.
Tidbit's biggest challenge will be overcoming his fear of being hit. I have had dozens of foster parents and adopters of shy, cringy dogs tell me, "I think this dog was abused", and I have always told them, "Not necessarily. It's possible the dog was just poorly socialized, and/or it's part of the dog's inborn temperament." However, I'm pretty sure Tidbit was abused. He doesn't just cringe, he braces himself for the blow. It's heartbreaking. But in spite of his fear and his past full of neglect and abuse, he has never growled or snapped. I think the chances are good that his broken soul will heal.
