View Full Version : Levi's story of our meeting

05-05-2011, 11:47 PM
Every dog has his story and my opinionated ACD would like to share his version: (Hope you enjoy;-)

Levi tells his story

I am. Believe me, that says it all. I am intense. I am ever present. I am demanding. I am expressive. I am intelligent. I am beautiful. Most of all, I am in love with my human. We have this thing called a “relationship”. In DOG, the relationship means we play together, we work together, we understand each other, and we are dedicated to each other. In HUMAN, I believe it means I am here for the long haul. This relationship did not come about easily. I had no idea what she wanted or expected. Actually, I don’t think I cared…..at least I pretended not to care. I was, rather I am, a survivor. I relied on basic instincts to get me through whatever I faced.
It was almost two years ago that we met. With great resistance on my part I ended up residing in a concrete box with a wire door. I believe the resistance is what got me there but I had certainly not figured that out at the time. My drive, my desires and my instincts were caged and disregarded. Rather than the scent of fresh air and the challenge of another day, I was exposed to the scent of disinfectant and a life of boredom. There were others that came and others that left. I remained in my cell and became more and more frustrated by the day. I certainly was never shy about letting anyone know that. Days turned in to weeks, weeks turned into months, and I remained there as if I had offended the world by my existence.
The day my human came I slept. The vibrations of the other dogs barking was enough to stir me and I glanced up as the human looked above me to a piece of paper attached to my wire. She looked at me and back at the paper before her and her slightly smaller human walked away. Yes, that was the story of my life. Humans walked away. I learned to make it easy on them, and to make it quick. I put up a good defense to avoid them. I did not have the adorable wiggles of a puppy, nor the predictable tail wag of some of my cellmates. I made no promises with my eyes and held myself as a challenge. Yet soon these two humans returned with leash in hand. The wire moved and they put me on the end of that leash! I walked beyond the concrete barrier and out the door. The scents that filled the air were enough to send me into a mild frenzy. The grass and trees trying to hide the trail of a rabbit that had recently crossed our path. The breeze teased me with an abundance of temptations. I tried to make a break for it right then and there. I grasped the leash in my mouth and pulled, trying to free myself and regain my life. But that was just not going to happen. This human held tight and moved faster. I thought we were running to freedom. I had to stop thinking about getting free and focus on where we were headed and keeping pace.
Well, it didn’t last long. The human, the smaller human and I made a big circle and ended up right back where we started. The cold concrete greeted me and in recognition I put on my brakes. I looked at them in disbelief. Did they not understand I could never be happy here? It was what I expected, they did not care. I tried to make them understand. I pulled the other way, and again I grabbed at the leash. They fooled me. Rather than yanking me and jerking me, the human reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of something that smelled delicious. My nose won and I was lured back to my concrete cage before I realized I was there. The leash was gone, the humans were gone, and I was once more alone. Part of me had begun to resign, and part of me dreamed and just waited for the day I could break free. The only thing that kept me going was the dream that I would run again.
Here is where my story changes. These humans came back. I napped, I ate, I slept and I woke. When I woke there they were. They had the leash again and, being extremely intelligent, I realized I was going to have another opportunity to free myself. Predictably the wire opened and again I was put on the other end of the leash and we left the concrete behind. We took the same path, the same large circle, which meant I ended up right back at the door that separated the world from my life. I was not happy. I had not managed to break free. I did not understand why they took the same path. Seriously, I expected more. These were humans. They can go so many places, why in the world would they revisit exactly the same destination again? It took me off guard, but only for a minute. Again, they lured me into the building and rather than bringing me back to my cell, they just handed me off. I thought at this time it was a good opportunity to express myself. Looking back, that was probably not the smartest move. When I saw my concrete home and wire door I put on my brakes. No luring this time. Instead I got pushed toward the door. The push was unexpected and unacceptable, and I let it be known. My teeth made my point clear. It was a warning. I tried to express it verbally (grrrrr..), I tried to show it with my body (freeze), but I was in a place where no one listened. So I let my feelings be known and it almost cost me everything.
At the time I did not realize my human was doing paper work that would take me beyond the big circle we had walked twice. The “pusher” went out and tried to tell my human it may not happen as I had “nipped”. My human understood. My human explained to the “pusher” I had displayed something called “kennel aggression” and she would work with it. Thankfully, her references had been stellar. She already had what others call “Dogs With Issues” and she had the knowledge and resources to be mine. As they were signing papers my little secret came out. “You know he is deaf.” And part of my story was revealed. A farmer had found me and was going to keep me as a working dog. Remember, I am intelligent and beautiful and intense. When he realized I was deaf he brought me to this place and told them if they did not take me he would just shoot me. I can’t say my human didn’t hesitate. She looked at the slightly smaller human who responded “It’s okay Mom, we’ll work it out.” That was the day my life changed and I didn’t even realize it.
The last time I left my concrete kennel it was on a different leash, with a matching collar. We didn’t walk the circle. We walked to a car. At this time in my life, cars were not a good thing. That is how I ended up here. I put on the brakes and looked around at the open field and the trees. I wondered if I could make a break for it this time. I looked at the humans, patiently waiting and not pushing. And again I was lured with the delicious smell of a morsel, this time into the car. We drove down country roads and I insisted on putting my head out the window. I needed to capture every scent so when I could break free I would know where not to go again. Fields and trees and buildings later we arrived at a house. Little did I know that house would truly become my home.

05-06-2011, 06:53 AM
Levi is ONE VERY LUCKY DOG. What a great story!!! (His "smaller human" is a miracle-worker as well!)

05-06-2011, 11:58 AM
Ok, I am crying into my keyboard at work. What a beautiful, well-writen story. Levi definitely is one lucky dog. Thanks so much for sharing his story.

05-07-2011, 11:05 AM

I can’t say my human didn’t hesitate. She looked at the slightly smaller human who responded “It’s okay Mom, we’ll work it out.” That was the day my life changed and I didn’t even realize it.