5. Sadie is making decisions, while we worry about the future

I have also been unwell with a nasty cold this week. At first, my sneezing and coughing frightened Sadie, and she would dash off to her guzunder (did you look it up?). Gradually, though, her recovery time grew shorter. Then she began stopping only at the doorway, and now she often stays put, responding with little more than an offended look and an ear flick while remaining on the sofa or the pouffe, like a tiny judge passing sentence. 

Speaking of her ears, they were mostly flat when she arrived — out of fear, as you can see in her photos from Romania. Then they went through a half-mast stage, with the occasional brave attempt at both ears up, or one up while the other remained undecided. They are now upright most of the time, which is quite a novelty for me, as I have never had a dog with “up ears” before. They still flick back or go down when something frightens her, but they pop back up much more quickly now. Honestly, it’s the little things that get me — although in this case, they are little things with excellent reception. 

The pouffe is quite large, and Sadie seems to have claimed it as hers; many of the toys now live there too. While tidying up, I put the toys from the pouffe and the floor into the toy box. When I left the room and came back, every toy had been returned to the pouffe, along with several from the bed. It made us laugh, though the scene became even funnier when Sadie could barely climb onto the pouffe because the toys kept falling off. Each time she tried to pick one up, she knocked more onto the floor. This went on for a while until she began to look annoyed, and Sammy was clearly unimpressed too, as some of the toys were his and he wanted them back. In the end, I stepped in as official toy negotiator: some toys went back onto their beds, some into the toy box, and the rest — mostly

Worrying about the future

I am still angry that the information given to Diane, the UK organiser, was so wrong, misleading, and frankly ludicrous. I have recently learned that Sadie’s rescuer and fosterer was also her vet — yes, her vet! — and that her partner runs the transport company she came over with, the same one that later disappeared into thin air like a badly organised magic trick. I fail to see how someone who rescued Sadie, cared for her for months, spayed her, arranged tests and vaccinations, and supposedly knew her well, could not have known her size, her terrible condition, or just how frightened and fragile she was. 

Rags to Riches is also still waiting for Piki, who was supposed to travel with Sadie and the others. We have expected him three times now, with various explanations given — or, on occasion, no explanation at all, which is always helpful if you enjoy guessing games. We are now told he will arrive in July. Fingers crossed, everyone, and maybe toes too, just to be safe. Let’s get little Piki home. We have paid for him, he is reserved for his long-suffering adopters, and his foster mum here, Lisa, is understandably worried about him, as we all are. 

How our circumstances have changed 

I am increasingly worried about the future. We are very fond of Sadie, but the practicalities of keeping her are difficult, and if she had been the dog we were told to expect, things would be very different.  

Why this matters so much 

We used to have a caravan, but sold it when we could no longer manage it. Then we had Alfie, a large reactive Jack Russell cross, and for the last four years of his life we barely went away at all. Our family all live up north, so they had to come to us, which became more difficult as their family grew over the years — families do have a habit of expanding when you are not looking. Then we lost Alfie and Poppy, our wonderful, born-deaf Parsons Russell, within two weeks of each other, and Bizzy was as lost and bereft as we were. So the three of us went on a week’s holiday to help with our grief. It was wonderful to visit various family members up north, but it was an empty house we returned to. 

Soon after Carmen at Birda asked Rags to Riches for help with Sammy’s vet fees and eye operation, Jane, one of our trustees, met him during a visit to Romania and suggested we foster him (knowing full well we would keep him). He came, we all loved him, and he stayed. Suddenly we all felt we had our a little bit of our life back. At our ages (70+) and with our health, that felt wonderful. We could visit Jim’s family again, take weekends away, and go on holiday. The dogs love it too and have become seasoned travellers. 

Why I thought Sadie might have fitted in ( if she had been the size we expected)  

I have kept and rescued big dogs, including Boxers, and at one point had seven without any problems — though I may have vacuumed up enough dog hair to knit a spare dog. But over the years our circumstances have changed. We are both getting on a bit, I have a disability and often need a walker or scooter, and my two little dogs are used to that, as is Bertie. With my husband unwell with a cold and COPD, I took Bizzy and Sammy round the village today using only my stick. Another small dog might have been manageable and, with Bizzy now elderly, could have been a companion and playmate for Sammy. 

When I arranged to foster in January, we had already booked a holiday in North Wales with family for late spring. We imagined Nellie, being a puppy, would be adopted quickly, Missy was already reserved, and tiny Sadie — ha! tiny in the same way a Shetland pony is “portable” — could have come too if she was still here. Helping a very small, traumatised dog is much easier, as we have seen before. You can take them out without leaving the car, pick them up if they are frightened, and slowly build their confidence. 

Bizzy was once terrified of leaving the house and shook when carried to the car, so we started by simply sitting in it for five minutes, then gradually extended the time. A few weeks later, we drove to the village and back until eventually she was happy travelling and ran through the gate with a wagging tail, ready to go out in the car. Because she was frightened of traffic, I used my scooter and let her sit on my knee, following the same gradual routine until she became used to the noise. Then we managed a little walk up our quiet street and built on it from there. After that, we were able to walk her properly, and now even large lorries do not faze her — proof that miracles do happen, occasionally wearing a harness. We did the same with Hope, a little traumatised old dog who had been dumped at the RSPCA just after giving birth at the age of twelve, infact she was the happiest dog I have had the honour of living with, having had a horrendous life in a shed outdoors as a brood bitch, she loved being with us, her tail never stopped wagging. Hope had a wonderful old age with us. That to me is so satisfying. Sammy arrived and went for every dog he met; he was scared, and I spent my time teaching him that I was the protector, not him. Apart from that, he was, and still is, a treasure — pirate treasure, obviously, given the eye. He is now loved by so many people and dogs, and he wants to greet everyone and every dog he meets. There have been a few more rescues in our life, each with their own story and, thankfully, happy endings — but I could go on all day, and nobody can manage that much tea or coffee. 

Why rehoming currently does not feel right 

Neither of us can carry Sadie, so we are rather stuck in that respect. We do love her, and we both feel that moving her now, or even in the near future, would not only be cruel but could re-traumatise her and send her back to the awful state she was in when she first arrived. We have talked it through and through, and we simply cannot do that; our hearts will not let us — unless a truly superhuman adopter appeared, and they are about as easy to find as unicorns and dragons. Mind you, I do believe in both, so I shall keep one eye on the sky and the other on the sofa. 🐉🦄 

Sammy does not bother with her much at the moment, though I think he may yet. Sadie has started to follow him around, and he does allow her to snuggle next to him, which I suspect he enjoys mainly for the warmth — ever the practical little Chihuahua. If we had had similar-sized dogs, that may have helped her move on more quickly, but as usual, the dogs have not read the handbook. 

The immediate reality.  The Holiday. 

For now, Jim is staying home with Sadie, while I am taking Sammy and Bizzy with me. He does not drive, and we need my car space for the grandchildren, but he does not seem too heartbroken about missing several days of noisy children. Grumpy Grampy may, in fact, have played a blinder. I am going on holiday for five days and will be leaving them behind, which worries me a lot. Although Sadie is more comfortable with Jim now, I am still her main caregiver and her person. 

As for our plans for the rest of the year, they have gone well and truly out of the window. Unfortunately, some of the family up north, especially those who are not dog people, may not understand that this is all because of a dog. Then again, they already think we are quite mad, so at least we are consistent. I dread to think of the comments we may get — or possibly the ones we will not hear, which are often the most interesting.

It is hard not to feel angry that one person’s misinformation (lies) — which, given that she was Sadie’s vet, rescuer, and fosterer, I still find impossible to understand — has turned our lives upside down. I know I am repeating myself, but honestly: grrrrrr. Perhaps I should have it printed on a mug. I do hope she, or they, read this, as I intend to send it to her (the blog, not the mug).

Footnote: I know a number of dogs arrive traumatised, I know some are worse than Sadie, many like Missy are able to adjust relatively quickly, many are absolute sweethearts. The rescuers that we normally work with are honest, kind and caring people, information is given, our fosterer's usually know what they will have to deal with. Sadie is a huge example of why people should NOT direct adopt from other countries. But should use a good, registered charity like Rags to Riches who foster and assess each dog in our homes before they go to adoptees - who have also been assessed, allowing the dog and new family to be matched as suitable as possible.

I HAVE NO DOUBT'S HAD SADIE BEEN A DIRECT ADOPTION SHE WOULD PROBABLY NOT HAVE STAYED LONG, SHE WOULD HAVE ENDED UP IN A DOG RESCUE LIKE THE R.S.P.C.A. WHERE SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN PUT TO SLEEP, OR ESCAPED AND GOODNESS KNOWS WHAT , OR PASSED ON AND ON AND ON AND POSSIBLY TO END UP AS DOG FIGHT BAIT.