That Scottie in the Window
How much is that Scottie in the window, you ask? You'd be a fool to think I'd say anything other than priceless! You see, Scottie love can't be bought. It is earned...especially when it comes to recycled Scottie love. Most rescue Scotties have already learned to love and unfortunately, to lose. Some are hesitant to love again but with a little time, patience and effort, that big heart in that tiny body of theirs once again opens up. And once you're in, you're in! That rescue Scottie is yours and you, consequently, are his (or hers!).
The first night Mr. K spent in my old apartment the day I rescued him, he was somewhat aloof, happily keeping to himself in the comfort of my kitchen. He didn't object to the fact he wasn't sleeping in the same room as me and he didn't even mind the baby gate being up, at first. It almost seemed as if he had come to accept the terms under which he found himself living: the limited, gated area of the shelter, no hooman to call his own and the solitary squeaky tennis ball that served as his only companion. Luckily, he had only been in the shelter for about 17 days - any longer and I'm sure that boy's spirit would have really been crushed.
Now, having been reinstated as a productive member of society, Mr. K looks for ways to give back. And he's certainly given this Scottie Mom more than ever expected. It's funny - we rescue Moms think we're doing the rescues a favor (and I assure you, we are) but often times, they end up rescuing us in some form or another. Mr. K's first deed was to keep my mind off of a long-term relationship gone bad. He then watched over protectively as I ventured out into the single life for the first time in a very long time. (We developed a code: a warning growl meant "beware this one," a casual sniff meant "he passes security...for now" and if he charged, well, let's just say that one wasn't meant to stick around.) Later, he rallied in my corner, pushing me to get up and get out during a time when hope seemed lost, my job was gone and the world was, in general, a much more disappointing place than anticipated. And the list goes on...
I love Scottish Terriers. That much, I believe, is obvious. But "rescued" is my favorite breed. What I love most is the fact I was given this opportunity to provide Heather and Mr. K the loving homes they deserve and sit back as I watch their faith in humanity be restored. I love them for who they are - Scottie-tude and all - and hope to have the opportunity to open up our home to more rescues one day or at least foster fellow Scotties in need. I already know what it feels like to be greeted by two elated Scotties scrambling for your first pet once you come home; to feel those crazy wagging tails smack up against your ankles so hard; and I've seen that Scottie in the window, sternly looking after you as you go to make sure you make it out okay and happily watching you walk toward the door as you return later that day. All priceless little moments, if you ask me. Try it out for yourself, if you haven't already: adopt a rescue Scottie (or let them adopt you!) and get ready to experience some serious recycled Scottie love!