Over the Rainbow

As some of you know, those of you who have supported my passion for writing or those just interested in a cute story about a hyper rescue cutie, I was rescued by a Malinois we called Cato in 2020.

He was found on the street, malnourished and needing a friend, scared to trust but wanting love. Now, the Malinois breed is known for their superior athleticism, intelligence, drive to work, and of course, their ridiculous energy and overall derpiness. They are not easy to rehabilitate and do not do well without a patient environment. So to come across a 4 year old Mal with obvious trust issues and what appeared to be zero training did not bode well for his survival in a shelter or his chances at adoption. That didn't stop my sister from bringing him home to meet her own Malinois.

They didn't get along. No real surprise there. Two uncut males, one frightened, the other trained to protect his people and his home? Never a good mix in my opinion and I had said as much when she had determined to go and bring him in off the streets. She ignored me as usual, but it turns out I'm grateful she did.

Getting him into the car was a trick. They tried treats, they tried a leash, they even tried picking him up and forcing him in. Let me tell you something: When a Malligator doesn't want to do something, he doesn't do it. In the end they had to throw a blanket over his head and pick him up blindfolded to get him into the truck and quickly shut the door on him.

He didn't do well on the leash and wouldn't respond at all for my brother-in-law. He did a little better for my sister but that was a lot of dog and she's not a very big woman, stubborn as she is she had a fight on her hands.

Still, she walked him around the yard until he had calmed down and then he came inside where we had set up an extra kennel. The dogs sniffed each other through the bars and growled at each other. No blood was drawn but it was a stand-off from the start. They picked at each other. Whichever one was out of the kennel made sure to taunt the other.

The dog had learned that treats and food meant a trick and it took him a minute to trust that something unpleasant wasn't coming when food was given to him. But his tail started to wag if I gave it to him.

It was the oddest thing. He was friendly enough to everyone. He seemed to like my nephew just fine, though he didn't seem to understand just how big he was in comparison to the little boy. But his eyes followed me around the room. I found myself talking to him. I pet him when I passed by and I sat with him when I had nothing better to do. When he was out of his kennel he followed me around.

I started taking him for his walks and he responded on the leash like he had always been walking on one. He looked for me and checked where I was, waiting for me to tell him where to go. He still got excited and he was still strong but it seemed he had chosen to listen and watch for my lead. I was his official walker.

When it was obvious that the two boys couldn't get along my sister started looking for someone to take him in. I knew it was for the best. I had said from the beginning that we didn't need another dog and I had nowhere to keep one. I had no place of my own and any place I could afford would hardly fit a dog of his size and energy level.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself as she updated me on those interested in a working dog. She made sure they knew what they were potentially getting into and that they had experience with handling high-energy working breeds. All applicants were thoroughly vetted. Most decided, after hearing how we'd found him, that they wanted a puppy to raise and train instead.

I found that I was relieved each time a potential adopter backed out. I knew I would miss him. And I knew the kind of patience he would need, the kind of people he would deserve. He had obviously been abused at some point, misunderstood and thrown away by some impatient tarse who didn't know a headstrong, intelligent dog from a brain-dead mule.

I had spent enough time volunteering for local shelters and helping to rehabilitate dogs from similar backgrounds to know exactly what his reintegration into a home and family would be like. He had already taken tremendous strides since we had taken him in but he had a long road ahead of him. Would anyone else understand his needs or have patience with his backslides?

It didn't take long for me to realize that I had fallen in love with him. And looking into those deep brown eyes, watching him look for me and respond to me when I had done everything in my limited and ultimately doomed power to avoid falling for him, I realized that he had chosen me as his person.

Some dogs love everyone. Anyone that pets them or feeds them or lives in their house are theirs. Some dogs have love for their family. And some dogs...some very special dogs choose a single person to call theirs. They will always look for that one person. They will protect that person, love that person, and trust them with every fiber of their being. Breaking their trust would be the ultimate betrayal. And Cato had chosen me. Against all odds.

I started looking for a new place to live right then and there. I signed papers and paid the deposit the same week, had my things moved in and promised to love him for the rest of his life. And I did.

When I met a guy (a really great guy) I warned him that he had to get Cato's approval or he was out. Cato was more than just a pet. I was his support system and he was mine. If he didn't like the guy, if he didn't like anyone in fact, that person didn't get to be in my life.

My guy took it seriously, but wasn't worried. He didn't need to be. Cato took to him almost as quickly as he took to me. He loved him almost as quickly as I did.

So, when we decided to take things to the next level and move in together, of course, we took Cato over first to make sure he was comfortable in the new environment. He loved all the extra room and that I could come home on my lunch break to play with him. He loved all the extra attention from another person in the house.

Then it happened. Cato had never quite forgotten what it meant to be wild on the streets. He liked to wander and, even a year with me had not quite broken him of darting out the door given the chance and he was strong enough to break his lead if it was frayed or not top quality.

I made the mistake, very early in the morning, of grabbing his new and untried leash. It was pretty; it was not strong enough to hold Cato. He snapped the metal clasp as he leaped down the steps of the porch. He didn't go far, he still liked to keep me in sight. But I was in pajamas and not wearing any shoes so I had to step back in to grab shoes before I could chase him to the neighbors house. He kept just out of reach so he could keep sniffing whatever he wanted and I kept him in sight as my guy fetched the other leash, a little more worn but reliable.

That's when the truck came racing down the road. Now, the speed limit is only 25mph but this guy was doing at least 50 down this tiny city road. I only had time enough to shout "No!" as I saw Cato look between me and the truck and dart forward.

I know he thought he was protecting me. It doesn't matter that I wasn't in the way or that I knew better than to step in front of a moving vehicle and he didn't. He thought I was in danger and he moved to protect me. I couldn't stop him, I couldn't save him. The truck never even slowed down.

I will have nightmares of the day I lost my furever companion until the day I die and, though it has been four months since he passed, I can't help the tears when I'm taken by a sudden memory of him. I miss him every day and I wish he was still here with me. I don't know what I will do without him.

Because of my health I require some sort of support animal but I couldn't handle getting another dog so soon after losing Cato. So I have a cat that I will introduce at another time. I'm sure she will be fuel for many stories as she is quite a hellion in her kitten phase.

I may be sent another dog some day, much like I was sent Cato. Until then I hope the kitten entertains everyone and helps to lessen the hurt in my heart.

I hope you all treasure your pets and do everything in your power to keep them safe. Those bonds are something that can't be duplicated, can't be replaced, can't be forgotten. Don't take them for granted.