On Feb. 6, a woman whose dog I walk sent me a photo of a dog she found that morning, abandoned at our local dog park. She thought I might recognize her since I walk dogs in the area, and especially might know the Great Danes in the area.
I didn’t know her, but the moment I saw her photo, I knew I needed to. The next morning, I drove to the humane society shelter where she was taken. I could only see her through the kennel bars because she was on a 72-hour hold for the owners to claim her. The best I could do was offer her my hand against the bars, which she licked without hesitation. Given that she was abandoned with no collar and no microchip before 6 AM, it seemed unlikely anyone was looking for her. I put an adoption hold on her. She needed to be spayed, but their initial health assessment showed no issues. She has had puppies at some point and is estimated to be about 3 years old.
The timing was problematic for me since I had promised to dog sit for friends the coming weekend. I figured that with the hold time, having to spay her, and making any behavioral assessments, it should work out. Nope, the humane society called me Tuesday morning, saying I had 24 hours to pick her up before she would go to open adoption. So she came home with me that evening. I felt that I couldn’t risk waiting, and the thought of her going to someone else was too much to bear.
I can’t logically explain why one look at her was enough. The illogical bits, or hippy signs as my friend called them, are that she was abandoned on my late husband’s birthday (Feb. 6th), and that she is the same color, merle, as his heart dog Varel.
She is more than I could have hoped for
To say we immediately bonded with one another is an understatement. She follows me from room to room. She gets along with all the dogs she has met and is indifferent, and maybe a little afraid of cats.She initially didn’t seem to understand what to do with dog toys and the idea of chasing a ball was completely foreign to her. She walks great on a leash, but the concept of peeing while on one was also an issue. She has learned to love running, but she had a rough start at that, too. After stumbling and taking numerous tumbles, especially when trying to turn too tightly, she has made significant improvements.
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Her Name
I did break with the Star Trek naming scheme of all our previous Danes. I’ve named her Feyre (pronounced Fay-ra). For any fantasy readers, you might recognize it from A Court of Thorns and Roses. {BOOK SPOILERS} The character Feyre was a poor and starving human who was resurrected into an immortal Fae and eventually became High Lady of the Night Court.
Of course, I had to get this Ruffwear collar for her, as it’s reminiscent of the Night Court in the book series.
So glad you have each other!