Emotional Support Human

The first time I met Rex Ryan he was still a pup. He had just been saved from Craigslist.

The runt of the litter and a brindle coated English Mastiff, he was an undesirable from the start. I remember he looked so silly with his paws that were oversized in relation to his scrawny little puppy legs. He stayed in his puppy bed looking out at all the humans that had come to welcome him, he was overwhelmed from the jump. Nevertheless he was adorable from the moment I met him.

English Mastiffs generally live to serve and love one or two people in life. Mastiffs in general will also protect the young of their devoted humans. They bond fully with few in a lifetime.

Rex Ryan’s original owner was a remarkably social person who entertained often. That poor puppy, he had no idea how many people he would be meeting in his new life. I immediately jived with him, but like all dogs who are not mine, my love for them is there, but alas, I am not your master young pup, all the best in life, see you next time.

Luckily for me and for Rex Ryan I was friends with his ever so social master.

I saw this dog grow up one visit at a time.

I saw his awkward phase.

I saw him overwhelmed at times by the constant stream of visitors.

I saw a pup who by genetics should have been able to only attach to one or two people, become instead a very social young dog. He enjoyed entertaining as much as his master at one point.

Then one year his master had been robbed, his house intruded upon and the only one home was a young Rex Ryan.

Something happened to him in that attack. He became increasingly tense and mistrusting at the sight of people he had known his whole life. He was constantly waiting for the other boot to drop. He was suddenly waiting patiently for humans he knew to betray him. I knew whoever had broken in, Rex Ryan must have tried to defend his home against them, and more than likely Rex also must have known and had smelled the person who broke in, prior to the ordeal.

Rex became more ornary with everyone including his master. One day his master brought him a puppy to help Rex with his anxieties and give him a pal.

Enter Duke Ryan, a brindle coated American Terrier with white spots, most call him a pitbull, though it is a very misleading name for the docile and sweet creature Duke Ryan is.

By that time, ever more emboldened by life the dogs’ master started a business and moved the dogs around.

One day he brought home a female St Bernard who he had rescued from a basement in which she was being mishandled and malnourished.

Who could blame him?

No animal deserves that life, much less a St Bernard, a dog breed infamous for saving humans throughout history. Almost like locking a Collie in a closet.

So now a sister was added to bulk out the trinity of the Ryan dogs.

Time passed and a natural order was established among the dogs, Rex in the Alpha position and Duke and sweet Indica as the Betas of the little pack.

Time continued to pass for the dogs. Their master had continued on his path as well, he took good care of his dogs but life had other plans for him.

One day something was not so above the boards. On this day a great many Police officers came into the home. They restrained and pulled the dogs out of the home by force. They were taken to the Humane Society where they would be checked out by a friend who would feed and care for them until the master could return.

They did.

The master returned.

Life continued for the three dogs.

One day far removed from the first more police came, a helicopter came, men with guns and flashlights came.

RexRyan who had been terrified from his past experiences lashed out in a great and mighty, bark and snarl combination that frightened even the toughest of men. Suddenly, he was wrangled and pulled yet again from his comfortable home along with his doggy siblings.

What a tragedy to be ripped from your home without understanding of why not once but twice. Back in the Humane Society klink, the three dogs sat for a week or two if not longer.

This time some of the master’s roommates decided to bail out the dogs and care for them.

Months went by.

The master did not return.

No money for food revealed itself.

The roommates fell upon hard times. Failing to feel the appreciation for care the dogs gave, in the form of wagging tails and slobbery smiles. Soon the food slowed down and outside time became less and less. As fewer people rallied to help the dogs, who frankly, weren’t paying the rent. Their situation began to change drastically.

Ultimately, the roommates were evicted. These humans who had gone through so much trouble to spring the Ryan dogs from the Humane Society, left the dogs behind in the house in the end.

How cruel.

Time passed for the dogs in the house. Two were locked in the basement, Duke in a kennel and Indica free roaming. Rex was locked in his master’s old bedroom. All three lacked access to water, the food dwindled and was gone.

By estimates and chats to piece together what happened it was believed they had been left anywhere from one to two weeks in this state.

Alone.

In a dark house with no access to water food or outside, much less, love and human interaction.

A funny note about proud Dog Parents, by the grace of god these three dogs each had social media pages of their own.

I was friends with them online.

Having been casual friends with their master over the years. It was only natural that I would friend the dogs on social media. Sometimes animal friends are better than human ones Rex would soon be teaching this to me.

Some people had found out what was happening. They got into the house and posted photos to the internet followed by feeding and watering the dogs in excess of what their bodies could handle. As any good intentioned rescuer might do. This too is natural, to see a starving thing and give it far more than it can handle physically to counter starvation.

It was a few days after the new year. I had just had C-PTSD tacked on to my personality and I was struggling to improve my own mental health.

I was chain smoking cigarettes aimlessly scrolling through my phone. Suddenly Rex Ryan and the other two were tagged in a few photos, I opened them up. The dogs in the photos were hardly recognizable.

I left immediately, I drove to the house an hour and twenty minutes on the road. I had only been back in the country for a month. Had I known, I would have taken the dogs off the hands of the roommates before the damage would have been done. I was livid, these people knew how to contact me. Alas, these dogs do not belong to me, plus who is to say whether they would have called under any other circumstances. Humans let other humans and animals down all the time it is a sad reality.

Humans that let animals down are generally those who fail to experience the essence of the animal. Animals have souls and personality, they are not just the reflection of the humans surrounding them.

I got there around midnight I assessed the situation quickly. I determined exactly what was needed, I spoke to the rescuers, removed all of the food, left only water, ran each of the dogs in the yard, and made my plan for the morning.

I left.

The next morning while I was taking the long drive to the dogs I stopped and bought blankets and sweaters, I bought a hundred dollars worth of dog food making materials and a pot. When I arrived I sprung into action, I ran the pups on their property, walked back in set all of the blankets neatly in the kitchen, I cleared a space and I started cooking. All three dogs sat tails wagging as the smells of proteins rice and sweet potatoes permeated the house.

All for them, and they knew it.

I handmade dog food for the next week twice a day. Money was no object at this point, I was going to rescue these dogs. I cleared out one of the bedrooms, I cleaned up most of the poop, only to sleep on the cleanest patch of floor in this squalor for the next two weeks.

By the end of the first week, I had been able to correct the severe bloat the St. Bernard had developed as well as the minor case Rex Ryan had. Although Rex hardly allowed a single hand near him, he realized what had been done for the other dog and he relented when no other human could see.

I was able to start integrating the dry kibbles back in as we started the second week. At this point the landlord reached out. He came over I spoke with him about the condition of the animals.

We agreed.

In Wisconsin, dogs are considered property, when someone is evicted the abandoned property becomes the ward of the landlord. Through some legal loophole the dogs had become his, and now he was giving them to me with the stipulation that they be removed from the home in a week’s time.

From the moment I had gotten there I had reached out to every mutual contact I had with the dogs’ master. People who did not even know I was in the country again, were now rushing to the aid of the dogs, we had food and money donated to their recovery as well as a bit of grooming help.

With one week to prepare, a mutual contact in Oregon State agreed to having both the younger dogs come live on their farm. I had to transport them. A week to get to Oregon and back bought more time for finding a new home for Rex too. I sold everything of value in the home for the gas money and van rental, I continued to deplete my own company’s charitable fund for more food and supplies.

Rex was able to see his brother and sister off, he barely got out of the van when we arrived. This dog had already decided that where I would go he would be going as well. There would be no leaving Rex Ryan behind.

On the way home, I saw Rex smile for the first time driving through Utah. Little did he know I had been able to arrange foster meetings with three homes before we hit the road back.

On the first day back I let Rex rest in my room at my parents house. It wasn’t much but it was the only space I had at the time too.

The next day I loaded Rex Ryan’s belongings into the car. We headed off to meet the first possible foster dad. He seemed nice enough, he had a good area for Rex to live.

Rex however had other ideas. I had probably gotten him back to about a hundred pounds by this point. He was in the back of the car. He saw the man come out of his house and started a low growl. I reassured him. Then I got out I spoke with the man and asked him to hug me so Rex could see that I was accepting of the man so he should be. Rex saw this, wagged his tail and smiled a little as I walked back to the car. I opened the door and Rex shot out like a canonball and lunged at the man. I grabbed the reins of the small horse put him back in his place.

The man very clearly startled said,

“ Let’s walk to the park so he can see it.”

We did, while I maintained hold of the large dog who clearly wanted to charge the man every five to ten paces.

We got back in the car. I knew surely the man was going to decline the offer to foster Rex Ryan. His text arrived before we even made it home.

I decided Rex needed a bit more training and rehabilitation. It was cool I was in therapy too, as Rex tacked on PTSD to his personality.

A dog with PTSD much less a one hundred and fifty pound dog with PTSD is a handful. He had quirks and triggers just like I did. I could relate and soon enough we were headed down the road to recovery together.

As part of my therapy I had picked up work as a dishwasher. So Rex waited patiently on those nights for me to come home to my childhood bedroom. He was decently cordial with my mom so she would spend time chatting with him while I was away from the house.

A few weeks passed and I grew ever more concerned that my small bedroom was not an appropriate place for Rex to live happily. Heck I couldn’t find happiness for myself much less this damaged boy. We arranged to meet the next family.

These people had an entire family of Olde English Mastiffs, they were huge, 50-75 pounds larger than Rex and all with the standard Latte colored coats. For the first time in life Rex was not the Alpha by a long shot. He was humbled in the presence of just two members of the pack to the point of submissive posing. I had never seen him do this before, he was terrified of these dogs.

We went home. I told that family I believed Rex would have had a very hard time getting into the pack and the Olde English folks agreed. Back to the drawing board.

Now, I had one last foster family card in my hand. A couple who also owned a Brindle coated English Mastiff, only she was just a year old and was a lot to handle on her own. Rex got out of the car at their house. A sweet dog momma was waiting at the stoop. She came to meet Rex he immediately growled. From there we walked to the fence. The young pup was anxiously awaiting Rex’s play date. We let him in. He was loving it, they ran and bounded and had a great time. By the end he even warmed up to the dog momma.

I went home thinking about how perfect this house would be for Rex Ryan. Unfortunately, the owners decided that he would also have taken a great deal of effort in addition to their giant puppy. They didn’t want to do either any disservice. I understood.

I cried, aloud that night. With Rex Ryan laid in his dog bed staring at me. My mom came in my room as I audibly shed tears as an adult in my childhood bedroom. At this point well over a month had passed since we returned from Oregon.

She asked what happened.

I told her. Then I said,

“ I did what was right, I saved all three of these dogs. I did what anyone with a heart should do. The other two are doing awesome but here we are with the oldest and most damaged one who refuses to go anywhere else to have a better life. It is unfair for him to just live in my room.”

I sobbed and went on,

“I tanked my company’s charitable fund and now I need to seek actual hours of work outside of dishwashing to support the dog and myself. All the while he has to stay here waiting for me to find his new home. It is unfair.”

She sat for a moment. Then my mom said,

“You know, maybe Rex Ryan found his new home already. Maybe, he is picking you as his dog momma and emotional support human.”

I chuffed,

“ I can’t even emotionally support myself right now how can I help him?”

She said,

“Maybe he will train you so well that you will find it in you to emotionally support yourself as well, maybe that’s why this big boy won’t go anywhere or bond with anyone else. Maybe, Rex Ryan thinks he needs you as much as you think you don’t need him or that you can’t provide a good enough space for him. We will make do because he has already made his choice. You will have to resign yourself to him being your dog and your responsibility so that you can make both of your lives better, one day at a time.”

I sobbed again out loud wiped my face with my sweatershirt like a three year old, looked down at Rex who attentively looked at me in return, then I hugged my mom and sniffled, “ok” as tears welled up again.

She kissed my forehead and smiled. Then she got up from my bed and left my room.

After months of working three jobs, doing all of my therapy and putting my company on hold; one night I went to relax at the corner pub.

It was here, one of my uncle’s friends was talking about wanting to find a tenant for his duplex. I looked at him I asked where it was, how much, and if Rex Ryan could live there too.

He gave me all of the information and the next week I looked at the place. Large enough for my small horse and me! I got the money together and moved in.

Rex and I have a garden and a lifestyle that we built from scratch.

He occasionally allows and enjoys guests.

He doesn’t howl at sirens any more out of fear.

He is genuinely a different dog than he had been. I am also a different person than I had been before he chose me as his Emotional Support Human.

We still have work to do, two years down the line we are one day at a time making our lives better together.