Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Memory (07/10/08)
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TITLE: Sage | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lisa Bauman
07/17/08 -
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When the rescue van pulled in and the back door was unlatched, four huge heads popped out. Three belonged to the rescue volunteer, Paul. He leashed the fourth and brought out a gray Dane with black patches and spots. “Merle’, he called it. Not an AKC* recognized color, but we liked it. However, there wasn’t much else to impress us.
The velvety softness of puppyhood was gone. She seemed to be all gangly legs, knobby joints and oversized paws. Bony hips jutted out and each rib protruded from a deep-chested, angular body. Uncropped ears drooped and hanging lips flapped when she moved her head. She stared at us, a quizzical expression on her face. She bore no resemblance to her name, Sage.
“She’s a jumper and a wild woman,” Paul said with a smile. She dragged him into the house and scooped up a shoe lying on the floor. She slurped the water I offered sloshing it over the sides of the bowl. She lifted her muzzle and rivulets splashed on the top of the kitchen table and my leg. Yuck.
“That’s a Dane thing,” Paul remarked. I was a bit overwhelmed as I mopped up the mess.
Paul outlined the special care Sage required. Allowing her to run right after meals could cause her stomach to twist. If she drank a large amount of water after exercise she might bloat. These were both life-threatening conditions. Elevated food dishes would aid her digestion. Puppy food was banned because rapid growth would put pressure on her joints. “I think she has a UTI,”** translated into a raging bladder infection that required multiple visits to the vet for urinalysis & injections, daily medication & supplements costing several hundreds of dollars.
After Paul left, we had our work cut out for us. Sage devoured any food left on the kitchen counters and could absorb a full automatic feeder of cat chow in a couple of minutes. This, in turn, bothered her sensitive stomach and she would let fly wherever she happened to be, even in mid-stride. She gnawed the arm and popped the buttons off my upholstered rocking chair. She chewed pens, jewelry, shoes, stuffed animals, a prescription orthotic, a $400 dental appliance and destroyed two couches.
She also had every intention of being in charge. Convincing Sage she was not top dog was no easy feat. We enrolled her in weekly private obedience lessons for over a year. When she refused to obey, we wrestled her to the ground and held her there, sometimes for fifteen minutes at a time, until she stopped struggling.
I was ready to give her back, but upset as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to turn her in. She didn’t need another owner to abandon her. We might be her last hope of a permanent loving home. And in a spiritual sense, Sage’s situation mirrored my own. God extended grace to me when I didn’t deserve it and everything I had I owed to Him. She reminded me of my own willfulness when I resisted God’s attempts to teach me self-control in areas where I needed discipline.
Patience and persistence paid off as we worked with Sage over the next weeks and months. She gained weight, learned to ‘go’ outside (Halleluiah!), completed a basic obedience course and earned a Canine Good Citizen title. She pranced and wagged her tail when we came home, engaged us in lively games of tug-of-war and leaned against us when she wanted to be scratched.
Sage is now 5-years-old. Sometimes, when she’s curled up, I pat her head and breathe a prayer, “Thank you, God for my big dog.” She stretches and sighs. She’s home.
*American Kennel Club
**urinary tract infection
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