My Arya...

Almost a year ago, I began working at my local animal shelter. I wasn't exactly sure how well I would be able to handle this kind of job; I took it knowing that the dogs and cats I would be caring for may have to be euthanized.

"Don't get attached", they told me. Yeah. Right.

Impossible... well, for me, anyhow.

Knowing how much of a pushover I am, when it comes to animals, my family knew it would only be a matter of time before I took one or two home. As much as I hate to admit it, they were right. A month previous to my employment, my boyfriend and I adopted Delaney, a brown and white American Pit Bull Terrier, and from the beginning she was his dog. Yes, my name is on her paperwork as her legal owner, but I know in my heart that these two are made for each other. If one should leave, the other would be completely lost. Don't get me wrong... Delaney loves me, but she really adores Derek.

I genuinely hadn't given much thought to adopting another dog, despite what my parents and sister said. We had Delaney and Tipper (my little Corgi mix), and two dogs is plenty. I love them both as much as any other family member... and, yes, they are my family. At the time, there were two adults, three children, two dogs and three cats residing in my home... oh, yeah... and the fish. My proverbial plate was full. Put that together with the fact that I take care of a few dozen dogs at work, and you could say I had my fill of canines every day...

... until Arya.

She was "Holly" at the shelter. Seventh kennel from the left, near the drain. She's just a common, little, brown hound dog; most likely the offspring of a wandering daddy and a back yard mamma. I'm sure she was just from a litter of unwanted pups, and wasn't the "cute" one, and probably the last one left... A classic scenario with the majority of young dogs brought into our facility. (I haven't done a DNA test on her, as they are rather expensive, but she fits the description of a Black Mouth Cur very closely, and that breed is very prevalent here in the South.)

Something happens to a dog's demeanor when they are forced to stay in an 8' by 3.5' kennel all day. They get bored, mainly, and pooches that have a high energy tend to display very flippant behavior. In Arya's case, she was barking incessantly, throwing herself against the sides of the kennel, pacing, circling, bouncing, jumping, whining, and the like. At mealtime, she gobbled down her food so quickly, it was followed by a loud belch. You would think that dogs who eat as much as she does and never get walked would be fat, but that isn't always the case. Arya was very skinny, because she wasn't getting any exercise. Yes, she was getting the nutrition necessary to be alive, but her muscles were atrophied; She was getting what she required from her food, but because of her situation, she wasn't getting the most from her food. I think this is where she and I "clicked".

I had to get off my duff and lose some weight, and she desperately needed to gain some. Also, because of the way she was acting, her chances of finding a forever home were slim to none. In other words, she was "unadoptable".

In my mind, there is no such thing. But, I have very little influence over the decisions made in that area. My job is to simply clean the poop. I am the hired help.

But, I felt that she and I had a connection, of sorts. She needed me, and I needed her. So, I took her home. She reminded me very much of the character Arya Stark from the "Song of Ice and Fire" series by George R.R. Martin... a little mousy, brown girl, often overlooked by everyone, but in her heart she's a brave warrior, and is not afraid. And, thus, she was named.

The day I brought her home, she slept. And slept. And slept. I imagine it was a nice change to snooze on my soft, quiet bed, as opposed to a cold, concrete floor in a very noisy environment.

At first, she had trouble acclimating to our "pack". My oldest dog, Tipper, is very much a dominant female, as is Arya. Poor Delaney was often caught in the middle of their "arguments", and shied away from them both. It didn't take long, however, to establish myself as lead woman, and the tiffs ceased. Now, you'll often find them all taking a nice afternoon nap cuddled together. They have even stopped chasing the cats for sport.

Since then, Arya has become my "shadow"... when I go to the bathroom, or take a shower, she parks herself by the door, and waits patiently for me to return. She follows me everywhere I go, and I find her very easy to train. She sleeps on her pillow on the floor by my side of the bed, and has become accustomed to some ear-scratching-love in the morning when I wake up. She's a smart cookie. At mealtimes, instead of devouring what's in her bowl before it even reaches the floor, she waits -eagerly- for me to tell her to go ahead and eat. I am amazed  at her level of loyalty to me ... yes, an ego boost on my part, but dogs are built that way; they need to be a member of some kind of society, be it other dogs, or a single human. They thrive when they are a part of a group.

 Also, because of good nutrition and exercise, I have lost about forty pounds of fat and water weight, and she has gained some nice muscle. You can no longer see her ribs when she breathes, and what started out as short 1/2 to 1 mile walks, has grown into seven to ten mile hikes.

So, she's not purebred. She's not a Westminster show dog. But, she's mine, and I'm hers.