Life Unleashed

We could only guess at what she’d been through. We could only tell it had been nothing good. Not that she was scared — American Staffordshire Terriers seem to know no fear — rather, she was wary. Distrustful, stressed out of her poor little mind and clearly not used to anything ‘normal’ for a dog. Driving her home from the pound, I sat with her in the back seat, holding her tightly as she bounced around on the seat. I tried to wrestle a tennis ball from her that she was busy chewing up fanatically. During the half-hour ride to our home, she had devoured three of them.

We had fallen in love with her picture on the animal shelter’s website. She looked so sad. Old and sad. It was heart wrenching. After deciding our new dog just had to be an Amstaff, we were specifically looking for an older dog. We felt they have even less chance of finding a forever home, though they too — perhaps especially — deserve one.

The shelter told us she was found roaming the streets all alone, sporting a raging ear infection. They had called her Kim. She didn’t strike us as a Kim. The name didn’t do her justice. After watching her trot off in front of us into the Great Outside, carrying herself in such a regal way, we called her Regina — Reggie, for short.

We had left our cat’s water fountain out, thinking our new dog would probably like it too. That was an understatement. She had been so stressed out in the car, she was probably dehydrated, and so she pounced on the little water fountain, leaving it without a drop. Our living room floor resembled a pool, however. I shrugged and told my husband, “Typical Amstaff.” A website had told us Amstaffs are notoriously clumsy and having one in your house would certainly not go unnoticed. This was the perfect example of that statement. We got Regina a large bowl.

Her jowls still dripping with water, she promptly jumped up on our couch uninvited, and stretched out with the large ball we gave her. All wrong, of course. All our good intentions of ‘a firm hand’ and ‘discipline’ went out the window. But as Regina seemed more content than stressed, we resigned. As the sun hit the couch, she fell asleep.

Regina had trouble walking on a leash. She did not like other dogs and would react aggressively when approached by them. She was never aggressive to people though (not even unpleasant ones), and she positively loved children, who in turn approached her seemingly undaunted by her colossal head. She chewed up everything we gave her — including ‘heavy duty’ balls and bones. She had no manners, knew neither commands nor games. Car rides stressed her out. She didn’t bark or growl — at least, not at us. Towards other dogs, she made sure her rather impressive voice was heard. She seemed particularly deaf and partially sighted. Regina was a challenge.

First and foremost, though, Regina was extremely sweet.

As it turned out, it did not take long to get used to our new friend. We learned to deal with her issues and, once trust grew, we learned more about them. We found several scars on her face. The ear that had been infected looked like it had been chewed on. It soon became clear to us she had been seriously abused. We were horrified to notice Regina’s canines had all been cut or filed down. Her teeth were in awful shape. Clearly, she had not been fed properly or given anything healthy to chew on. Her body, too, showed signs of trauma. Without a full history, all we could do was guess. We suspected puppy mill and fights — or worse. After we changed her diet, we noticed a genuine change in Reggie’s behaviour — she calmed down and seemed happier. We gave her things. A bed of her own, blankets and pillows to help her sleep easier. We bought her a halter to replace her collar. It was a revelation. Immediately, she was so much easier to lead. Reggie seemed relieved to be rid of the collar. We fussed over her, talked to her, trusted her and loved her as much as we could. She showed her gratitude by smiling her beautiful Amstaff smile and rolling around happily.

Living very close to the sea, we took Regina there every day, rain or shine. There would be plenty of space to try to train her and to play with her. She loved the sea, and the sea loved her, as well. Every time we walked her along the surf we found things for Reggie to play with, little gifts from the sea. There were ropes, sturdy enough to be tied into big knots even Reggie had trouble chewing up. They became her favourite toys. She did not fetch. Whatever you threw ended up in her relentless jaws. The ‘sea knots’ at least made it out of them pretty much intact.

The sea also gave up a frisbee and a little chew ball that Reggie ironically couldn’t chew up because of its rubber spikes. The ultimate prize was a large blue ball, made out of a hard plastic, that she could just hold between her jaws but was impossible to bite down on. Though Regina didn't fetch, she would chase after the ball and wait for us to throw or kick it again. Using an 8 meter long rolling leash, we could play with her, and it turned out she really enjoyed diving into the sea for her knots. Over time, the sea water even cleared up her cataracts and her ear so both her sight and her hearing improved.

When we lost our cat, I confided to Husband that as a little girl, I dreamed of having a dog, but my parents wouldn’t have it. I used to fantasise about having a canine friend always at my side to run and play with. At some point, I gave up on the fantasy. Husband, however, wanted to make it come true. I had cared for dogs before, and with Husband’s experience with rescuing animals, I felt confident we would be good dog parents.

We were able to change Reggie’s life as she changed ours — if only for a short time. We never knew her true age when we adopted her out of the shelter — she very well might have been much older than estimated. She enjoyed running and playing on the beach, but we had to curb her enthusiasm. She knew no limit. If she overdid it, we would have to trudge home and pause often, as she would be exhausted.

Having been overweight for most of my life, running wasn’t for me. It had been so long since I tried, I didn’t even believe I could still do it.

Yet I remember a bright summer day when it was so hot I wore my bathing suit to the beach and took off my shoes. Walking with Regina along the surf, my toes in the sand, hers in the water, I suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to break into a run. I started walking faster and faster, and Regina joined me. For what seemed forever, I broke into a run with Reggie at my side, at the other side of her rolling leash, splashing through the surf. Leaving Husband behind, the two of us ran, looking at each other, both of us grinning like fools. We were flying.

For that one moment, my childhood dream came true, running with my dog.

For that one moment, my dog and I were one.