REFLECTIONS ON A SECOND-HAND DOG.
Grief.  Everybody experiences grief of some kind at some time in their lives.  When we lost Barkley, when he passed away, it felt so devastatingly awful.  We decided that we didn't ever want another dog.  That we could never go through the grief of losing it.  It wasn't worth it.    We decided, right!
 About four weeks after living in a house that seemed deathly quiet and being free to come and go as we chose;  to walk in the mall; to go out for dinner, guiltlessly; to have a whole bed to ourselves; nobody to clean up after;  we decided to have a quick peak at the new SPCA  and see if they had any jack russells.  This was on March 4th, 2011.
The girl at the front desk told us they had two little jack-russell-type dogs.  She stressed jack-russell type, because one of them,   who we were assured was  a jack-russell, was thin and had scraggy hair and looked more like a cross between a shitzu and a mexican hairless.  The other dog was a dreadfully shy little female who was a typical pudding jack.
We first interviewed the little female.  She had been owned by an elderly lady who had either died or had moved to a home, we weren't sure about this, but she was terrified of us, and no matter how gentle we were, and how much we tried to befriend her, she pushed her body against the wall and defecated as she walked.  This was so stressful for her and for us, that we reluctantly asked the girl to put her back in her cage and let us see the little guy with the thin scruffy hair.  He was aloof but quite friendly.  We took him for a little walk on the grounds and he ran happily along.  He seemed a strange little creature who seemed to accept us in his own way.  He wasn't a lovey dovey.  He didn't lick us or act excited, he just accepted us.   Somehow, we knew he was the one we wanted.
 The little scraggy, thin dog, with sparse scruffy hair was named Milo, the girl at the front desk  told us.  She also assured us he was only five years old.  I  kind of felt a pang and told Barry, my husband, that I wanted to adopt him, but we were told that we had to come back the next day, to pick him up.  They wanted to make sure that we really wanted to do this and it wasn't just a spur of the moment decision.
The next day, dutifully, we arrived at the SPCA, nice and early, anxious and excited to get our new little boy.  The first thing we did was change his name, Barry picked the name, "Scruffy",  for two reasons.  First of all, my little great nephew is named Milo, and secondly, Barry thought Scruffy was the most suitable name for this little scruffy muffin.
 We picked out a soft kennel  for him to sleep in, and he was given to us with an old blanket  that was full of holes.  The old blanket and the worn blue collar were the only things that he owned when he came to us.  His story was,  that he was picked up nineteen kilometres north of Ponoka, running along the highway, without any markings or identification.  He was kept in the Ponoka SPCA  from July until Christmas of 2010.  Nobody wanted him.  He was brought to the Red Deer SPCA in January of 2011, and was there until we found him in March.  I have no idea what he looked like when he was first found, because by the time we got him, he was still no handsome boy, that's for sure.  He had been neutered in February and had been given most of his needles - and he was now ours!!!
That night, I put him in his new kennel in the bedroom.  Before the night was over, he was sleeping in bed with us, and has slept, every night curled up against Barry's legs, ever since.  The next day we took him to the vet for a check up.  The vet examined him and told us that he had lost several teeth and that some of the remaining teeth were broken.  He also told us that he had a bit of arthritis and cataracts were starting to form.   He also said that he was closer to ten years old than five.  We have since found out that he has an enlarged heart and is quite deaf, indeed. 
 What a bargain - our little second-hand dog!   But I'm telling you, I wouldn't trade him for the world now.  He's gained too much weight and is on a bit of a diet.  He has also grown so much hair (rough not silky) that he looks like a muppet with his bushy hair and dark eyes, he has become my little ghost and follows me everywhere.  He's has some health problems and we have no pretenses that he is going to live for years and years, but the joy he gives is worth the little time we may have with him, and we are glad that we have rescued him and given him some peace in his last years.  I have only one wish, and that is, I wish he could tell us where he came from and what he has been through before he came to us.  I would love to write his story, and may be one day, I will, at least, I'll make it up.