About a month after we had to put Quigley down, we received a phone call. Trace and I were on our lunch date - and he answered the phone. He talked for a few minutes and then said he had to talk to me and that he would call them back.
Some friends of ours wanted to know if we wanted a dog. And not just any dog, but a mini Australian Shepard. Talk about an out-of-the-blue kind of phone call. See this friend has a beautiful blue one, named Katie that I just fell in love with. They are the perfect size, not kick-me-because-I-suffer-from-little-dog-syndrome-so-I-yap-all-the-time kind and not too big-to-be-a-lap-dog kind. When I first met Katie, I had asked if they were going to breed her, because I just had to have one. The owner wasn't sure. She wanted to, but Katie hadn't gone into heat yet.
Getting back to the phone call...they wanted an answer, like in the next 10 minutes. They were in Oregon at a puppy farm (I want to say "puppy mill", however I wasn't there. But from the sounds of the conditions and the amount of dogs present - a puppy mill would probably be a more accurate description) with the intention of finding a dog for Katie to breed with. The charge for the breeding was $500 - for a red or blue male. They went to a pen where there was a suitable blue male. But this blue male wasn't alone, he had a roomie. A shy skinny little black one.
When they inquired about the shy, skinny one - they were told that it was just one that she hadn't been able to sale. Blues and Reds are just more popular than the black ones. He was about 9 months old. She was willing to sale him for $300. Now our friends had a choice. Pay $500 for the one time stud use of a dog, or pay $300 for many times :) The only problem was they didn't want another dog.
Enter me. The sucker of all suckers for cute little lovable dogs.
The miracle of this story is that Trace, who wasn't a fan of Quigley's yappiness/small dogs in general, was willing to entertain the idea of us taking the skinny little dog...even with a baby of our own on the way. Our friends had offered to buy the dog, and give it to us - with the understanding that when Katie goes into to heat that skinny little black dog would get to visit her.
I could not believe my ears. I tried not to get my hopes up, because I just knew what Trace would say. I thought he would talk me out of it, be realistic and not agree to anything. You could imagine how far I had to reach to pick up my jaw from the floor when he said, "I think we should do it". Miracles never cease.
When we got him, we were warned that he was quite timid. And they weren't kidding! Our friends first thought was that this little dog was abused. He was scared of everything. Any little noise would make him jump. He wouldn't walk in the middle of a room. He hovered around the walls and cowered if he thought he was in trouble.
The more I spent time with him - he who we named Benji - the more I began to realize that I think he is the way he is because of lack of human contact and neglect in general.
The first week we had him, I had to hand-feed him one kernel of dog food at a time - when nobody else was in the room. Otherwise he wouldn't eat. He needed to eat - as he was already underfed. Then as he got used to that (took about 10 long, painful days), he was able to eat a little bit of food off the floor. He wouldn't eat it from a bowl. I learned that at the puppy mill farm, they'd just toss a scoop of dog food over the fence and the dogs would eat whatever they could sniff out on the ground as it was mixed with their own dog poo. Nice. (Although that explained a lot as far as their dog treatment goes).
After about 5 days of floor-feeding, I finally got him to eat off a plate. Then a few days later, he started eating out of his dog bowl. I think a major reason for that is I started feeding Sasha at the same time. Once he saw Sasha eating form the bowl, he was okay. I just had to be careful and watch Sasha so she wouldn't bully him out of his food.
We have had Benji for 3 months and I have to say he has come a long way. He is definitely my dog. He is at my side all the time. He likes Aleana and will hang out with her when I am not home. He likes Trace and will curl up next to him every once in awhile. He likes Luke. He tolerates Hannah. And he doesn't care much for Trent (may have something to do with Trent chasing him with a pool noodle when I wasn't home - someday Trent will learn. Sigh)
I have never had to work with a dog that has been neglected before. But so far, it has been a good experience. Benji is a really smart dog. He pretty much potty-trained in a day. He's only had a few accidents within the first month (some were fear driven due to a certain 9 yr old boy). He has taken well to the kennel at night and when we are gone. He understands commands, or at least catches on quickly. He knows what "no" and "down" means. He's not a yapper. He'll talk to me in the morning when I let him out of the kennel - which it kind of sweet.
He still freaks out every once in awhile. Change isn't a fun thing for him (I have to say I understand him on that one). We lovingly call him "Chicken Little" just because he goes all "the sky is falling, the sky is falling!!!" if he hears some strange noise he isn't used to. It's kind of entertaining to watch.
The best part of Benji is that he loves ME. I let everyone know before we even got him that Benji was MINE and that I didn't have to share. Now, realistically I could tell them all I wanted - but dogs are dogs and he could have attached himself to Trace or one of the kids just as easily. But nope. He chose me. (May have had something do with the "don't bite the hand that feeds you" thing...whatever. I'll take it.)
Introducing Benji boy.
Luke loves to cuddle up next to him.
Me trying to get some sleep.
Movie time
Aleana trying to bond with him.
Even Sasha tolerates him enough to play with him. Now that's sayin' something. :)
