The Dogs of COWHORN - Deuce
Monday | 05 April 2010
Get ready to cry ‘cuz this is the saddest story you can hear about a puppy. Deuce came to us from a foster home in Austin, Texas. At 4 or 5 weeks of age, Deuce, his mother and brothers had been tossed from a car into a ditch to die. Sometime later, the puppies were found alive and taken to a kill shelter to be put down. They were nearly starved to death as their mother had died, infected with parasites, and Deuce’s back was broken. By whom or why I don’t know, but someone grabbed the puppies and rescued them.Deuce went to foster care where due to his weakened condition and disease, he was kept in quarantine for 3 months! By the time he was 4 months old, Deuce weighed 20 pounds (as opposed to a more normal 40), had only been handled by people in rubber gloves, was refusing food or water, and no longer wanted anything but to die. That was November 2004. On a Saturday afternoon, Bill drove to Portland International Airport to receive Deuce who had been flown to us to save his life. This is Deuce in his crate the first night he stayed with us.
The story is so long that brevity is difficult. In its simplest description, I can say that for two years we gently worked to coax him into our arms to love and cuddle him in a manner that his mother never could. We sang to him, gently hand fed him, carried him from room to room or through scary doors, took naps with him on our chest, tended his constant terror and resulting nausea until he began to trust, love and eat without vomiting.
The story ends well, thankfully. For those who have been to Cowhorn, you already know that no one touches Deuce. He still is too fearful of people whom he doesn’t know so he stands 10 or 20 feet away and watches with caution. But for the crew at Cowhorn, he is the endless puppy! He scampers around us, sniffs shoes when he thinks no one is watching, chases squirrels, roles in dead stuff, sleeps in the sun (with one eye open) and sometimes just runs and runs with ecstasy and abandon! Best of all is that his very most, most, most favorite thing is to be held by Bill or myself until he falls asleep cuddled up next to us.
– Barbara Steele
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