In the springtime of 1998 we heard of a fellow Scottish Terrier Rescue person who was, for whatever reason, no longer capable of placing dogs. She seemed to be hoarding them! We offered to help "Fran" with some of the twenty- plus Scots she had, but to no avail. There was always an excuse why she couldn't let them go. It was very sad indeed. These dogs were in another state and our attempts to help failed. Over the course of the next couple of years we heard many, many stories. Finally, local shelters and rescue groups refused to release any more dogs to Fran.

In June 2001, we heard the state was going to raid Fran's kennel and take all her dogs. If this happened we knew the state would uthanize all of them!

We advised Fran of the pending fate of her dogs, and eventually she allowed us to enter her home. The conditions within the home were shocking beyond believe. Crates were nailed to the kitchen table. A grooming table sat in the dining room. Her elderly father sat at the tables eating a sandwich while she took a spatula out of the kitchen drawer and proceeded to clean out the crates. Oh, the smell! The house was not only filthy, but falling down around them. Finally we were allowed into the back room, were the dogs were kept. There we found the walls lined with crates to the ceiling. The room was very dark and quiet. Some of the crates had blankets covering them. She said this was to keep them calm. Fran was finally convinced to let us take the dogs. Unfortunately, some had to be destroyed anyway, either because of extremely poor heath or vicious temperaments.

Four of the Scots went to Texas for placement, one was released to Cairn rescue, and we took the remaining five. There was Fiona, a very sick, fearful female; Mattie, a darling little girl; and Bonnie, who had not been treated for ear infections for a very long time, and had other health concerns as well. Next was Bennie; we were told he was thirteen years of age. Lastly was Rodeo. This one broke my heart like no other. He was one of the ones I had tried to help years ago; the one she had said was "brain dead"! Still there, still sick, and no one had cared. Fiona and Rodeo were our toughest challenge in all of our time doing rescue. We treated them for months and months. Fiona finally regained her health, and now has a wonderful, loving home in Louisville, Kentucky. She is the queen of the couch where ever she goes!

Rodeo, however, had problems that went beyond simply needing medical care. He was shell-shocked and had totally tuned out the world. He would not move, would not come out of his crate, would not even take shelter when it started to pour down rain on him. He was a forlorn little fellow. Looking into his eyes, you saw nothing! No light, no thoughts going on at all. When out of his crate, he would scutter around nervously, running into walls. At first we thought he was blind, or maybe deaf. But he wasn't, that soon became clear. After the first couple months, with Rodeo still showing no improvement, we were almost at a point of hopelessness. Then the day came that there was just one little spark. He looked up at me with those enormous, soulful brown eyes, and for the moment it was like looking into the very depths of his hell. They held so much darkness and pain, but there was that tiny spark that said, "I want to live, I want to be happy, is it okay?" Rodeo has a seizure disorder, and-as we later discovered--had been on half the therapeutic dose of Phenobarbital, which would not control his seizures. In addition to the seizures, Rodeo had badly infected teeth and infected eyes. He was treated for all his physical conditions, and was now getting healthy. We started writing a dear lady who was very knowledgeable about homeopathic remedies. She researched supplemental remedies for seizures and sent me wonderful aids for him. We were amazed. Was it possible this little guy could find some happiness in life after all he had been through? Would he indeed be able to be happy, after being a prisoner in the dark for all those years?

One day, his little tail, which had been stuck firmly between his legs, starting coming up. We celebrated! Then we watched him run for the first time, we celebrated! He finally remembered where the water dish was located, we celebrated! Every day there began to be slight improvements. We hugged him and cried as he found his new life. After about five months, he seemed to be as good as he could be. We didn't think anyone would ever want to adopt such a backwards child. That was okay; we loved him for what he was. I was committed to break my own rule of never adopting one of our rescue dogs. This however was not meant to be.

Laurie Keenan, who had counseled me for all this time, had also fallen in love with him. Laurie and I together chose a new name for Rodeo, to celebrate the beginning of his new life. We decided on Teddy. Laurie began to consider adopting Teddy; she knew in her heart that her family could give this little Scot a great life. But Laurie and her husband Jim already had two Scots; before adopting Rodeo, they wanted to be sure they could commit to caring for Teddy with his special needs, to give him a loving, forever home. Their hearts led them to say yes! On Nov. 18, 2001, the now totally new and improved Teddy found his forever home. We met Laurie, Jim, and their two Scotties Emma and Sadie halfway, in St. Louis, and brought them their precious new little boy.

Teddy has begun life anew in Chicago. Life could not be any better for this little solider. He has truly been to hell and back again. His seizures are under good control, his Phenobarbital level is monitored. Now he runs and plays with his two sisters; he chases a ball; he has learned to go first down and now, with assistance, up the stairs (this is an act of courage for this little guy, whose coordination was somehow damaged); and he is making amazing strides to being housebroken. He sleeps snug at night in bed, between his Mom and Dad; he'll never again be left alone in the dark. He loves listening to classical music (especially when his dad plays guitar), and someday just might break out in his own song. He is a total miracle, and a blessing. Every week we have updates on Ted's progress--it just keeps getting better and better.

Teddy is today a charmer! He has not had a seizure for over a year and still progressively gets better and better. He is loved by many, but none more so than his wonderful mom and dad, Laurie and Jim.

If only we could all be as fearless, and forgiving as this little Scotty.

Bonnie Parker
www.bonhaven.org

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