A Rescue Dog’s Story - Feeling Good Is Just a Matter of Going Back in Time

O’Reilly in his prime years, longing to chase the groomers at Bretton Woods….

I’ll be the first to admit that title sounds a bit sappy. But… you know, people seem to love dog stories.

Especially rescue underdog stories.

I’ll share one with you today that my aging shelter underdog rescue pup wants me to put out there in the world. If he could talk, I am pretty sure this is what he would want to tell you.

A story about his life, his inauspicious beginnings, learning to be loved and experience joy, losing his way and almost his life, then getting a second chance.

Losing his way again, then finding it when he went back to a place in his life where he may have felt his best.

We can all do that. We can all hit our own reset button by going back in time to a place when we felt our best. Pausing to think about and understand why we felt so good at that time, then implementing ways to create the feelings again. If a shelter dog can do it, we humans certainly can, too.

Let’s get back to the star of the show for this one ….

O’Reilly has one of those old school sob stories about the start of his life.

He was one of 7 puppies taken to a shelter in late December 2006. They were born on Christmas Eve and the owner of the mother didn’t want to deal with puppies.

There was no room at the shelter (how’s that for a Christmas story?), so the mother-owner was advised to take the puppies home, get them vaccinated and come back several weeks later to give them the best chance of survival and adoption.

The litter returned in late February and all received names that honored the next upcoming holiday - St. Patrick’s Day.

A nasty respiratory virus swept through the shelter soon after they arrived and none of the litter survived – except for O’Reilly.

Eventually, a friend out here in New England had selected him for adoption. She was looking for a puppy and came up empty-handed at shelters our way. She saw him and fell in love. Arrangements were made for him to be shipped out here. My sister pulled him from the shelter and began lining things up for him to come out here.

He arrived in May 2006 in a crate on a Northwest flight from Indianapolis. I picked him up at the air cargo center at Boston’s Logan airport and he popped out of his crate like a pup-in-the-box with all the pleasure and curiosity of a 6 month-old puppy.

O’Reilly’s first Halloween as a squirrel - oh, the irony

Unfortunately, O’Reilly had another curveball thrown at him – his intended adopter’s landlord had a change of heart and revoked his permission for her to have a dog.

He was in Massachusetts already. I wasn’t in the market for another dog. I had an aging Shepherd in the house already (my college dog). My now ex-husband was not in favor of having another doggo in the house quite yet, although we anticipated getting another down the road.

O’Reilly was cute, however, and that goes far. Evolution has done a great job of giving dogs the ability to look at us, wag a tail, and get permission to come live in our homes and eat our table scraps. O’Reilly definitely benefitted well from the process. He quickly settled in and won us all over.

He looks like a typical Midwestern mutt. If you looked up “dog” in the dictionary, his photo could be there, it’s as if he is a caricature of a dog. His DNA screening reveals he has no dominant breed in his body – he really is a total mix. So many of his physical features are just totally endearing. Like his white paws, a touch of purple on his tongue, and the tip of his tail that looks like he dipped it in a can of white paint.

Once he showed up in our house, there was no getting rid of him. So he stayed.

You may already know that things in life have a way of showing up sometimes before we feel ready for them. Even if it’s exactly what we need.

“My” (are any animals ever really ours?) boy brought that kind of a story with him. He came with a lot of baggage and lessons we weren’t prepared to handle. But we dealt with them one by one anyway. We didn’t have a choice once we said yes to him.

After months in a shelter, he wasn’t exactly house trained. And he was not a small fellow at 6 months old (approaching 50 pounds already). He had grown accustomed to living in a shelter pen, using the corner furthest from his food and bed for his bathroom area.

That meant he was 100% comfortable with my dining room being that spot in his new dwelling.

It’s a lot harder to undo this kind of habit than it is to train a new puppy, just in case you were wondering. We went through not 1, but 2 different rugs in the dining room that year.

Fortunately, he was adorable and curious and possibly the softest dog I have ever had. He seemed truly grateful for a more comfortable place to sleep. To this day, I find him lying in awkward positions on the hard floor, like he doesn’t realize he has other more comfortable options. But he has always had a bit of sadness behind his eyes - he never seemed interested in playing those early years. He didn’t seem to know how. He did, however, seem to appreciate that he had a good thing going.  

“This will do…”

The one thing he did become passionate about during his early years, however, was barking at the mailman.

At first, it was funny. It progressed into a really bad habit. He began to lunge at the window when the mailman arrived.

I’ve had many dogs in my life and never had one who did this. I tried to make it stop. The things I tried didn’t work. He progressed to jumping on the back of the couch to hurl himself at the window. Who knows what was going on in his mind. Perhaps he was succeeding every day because that guy left every single time O’Reilly behaved in this manner. That was his own reward for his behavior – he was protecting the household.

Who knows what was going on in his mind. It wasn’t desirable behavior, but it hadn’t gotten to the point in our minds that we needed to do something drastic. We made half-hearted efforts to make it stop.

Then, he began to show aggression to other dogs. I remember the day it happened… a neighbor had just adopted a sweet, but very submissive, timid dog and wanted to begin socializing her. She asked if she could walk down to introduce her to O’Reilly. He had not exhibit aggression towards dogs before.

He did that day. It surprised us both and I felt terrible for the new dog – that was exactly what she did not need.

That was my wakeup call. I began reaching out to find a trainer or a behaviorist that could help. This was way out of my dog-owner league.

I found a couple, decided on one that seemed to have a clear plan for what to do. She came for a visit with her dog, shared a few thoughts, promised a report, then disappeared.

Eventually, I tried again and visited one at a well-known veterinary school. Received a report, but needed help with a trainer to help implement. I still felt like I didn’t know how to do what I needed to do.

In retrospect, I now see I actually didn’t know what to do.

The key to what needed to happen did not lie with the dog or his behavior. It was with me. I didn’t realize that for some time.

During that time in my life my marriage was not in a good place. That went on for years. The household was emotionally toxic. And this poor dog absorbed it all.

His lack of ability to play meant he absorbed and absorbed and absorbed with no outlet to let all that toxic emotion out. The only thing he could do was take it out on the mailman and other dogs. So that’s what he did. He kept getting rewarded for his behavior by chasing those things away. Then he went back to being his happy-go-lucky caricature after each incident.

Until one day, the worst happened.

He got outside when the mailman was coming up to the house.

He nipped his leg.

I now had a biter.

I decided that day that it was beyond my capacity to sort this out for the dog.

I decided to have him put down unless someone else more skilled was willing to take him.

Nobody was. Nobody wants to take on that kind of a project.

I made the call to the vet. She told me to keep him at home for at least two weeks – the mandatory quarantine period for rabies observation. Then make the call.

I followed her advice.

In the meantime, a friend of my sister recommended I read a book.

That book changed my life.

It is called “Your Dog is Your Mirror.”

It made everything make sense.

O’Reilly 2020 - calmer, wiser, happy to sit and watch the world

The premise is that our dogs absorb the emotions around them and that influences their behavior.

There are more layers to it than that, as well as more to the dynamics when you have multiple dogs in the same household.

But that’s the gist of it.

It made me realize that our toxic household probably did a lot to this dog.

Then my husband came to me – the one who really didn’t want the dog in the first place – and asked me to reconsider having him put down. He asked me to do anything to help him and give him a chance.

I discovered that the author of the book, a man named Kevin Behan,* lived in Vermont and trained dogs.

I tracked him down. I talked to him. I believed he could help O’Reilly.

O’Reilly went to spend the summer with him.

That summer, we sold our house, moved to another with a lot more space, and had a chance to reset and reconnect as a family during our short time of nomadic “homelessness” between houses. It was a good thing for all.

O’Reilly returned to us in the new house, in a new state, and was introduced to his new life by Kevin himself, who drove him from Vermont.

He seemed like a totally different dog.

He spent his summer hiking in the woods, being surrounded by nature, learning from other dogs around him. Discovering how to be a dog.

He learned to play, to tug on a rope.

O’Reilly finally found himself.

He had a new energy, calmness, an assuredness without being overly confident.

It seemed as if he had discovered his purpose in life. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he had found it.

O’Reilly and his little buddy….

The work on us began that afternoon when Kevin showed up. He demonstrated how to react to any dog frenzy with calmness and a plan of action that de-fused the emotion, rather than added to it.

It worked.

For awhile.

Until it didn’t.

Soon after the move, we got divorced. The household split, there was a lot of uncertainty in the world. O’Reilly weathered it all ok. Perhaps because the splitting meant there was less emotion being offloaded onto him.

I stayed in the house and eventually welcomed someone new into it. That relationship was much healthier, positive, and toxin-free.

O’Reilly adored the new man in my life. Just as he seemed to appreciate his life outside of the shelter, he seemed to greet my new beau with a sense of appreciation for a calmer, more grounded energy, ready to walk in the woods with him and discover more about himself.

But, like so many relationships, there were one or two things that remained unexpressed or unaddressed. While it was a relationship of growth and expansion, I think we both knew it probably wasn’t going to last forever, but maybe neither of us wanted to believe it. Perhaps that’s all it took for us to carry around emotion that had to go somewhere.

O’Reilly absorbed it.

After years of calm and zero reactivity to other dogs, going about in the world with no issues whatsoever, we took O’Reilly to a local brewery where many people took their dogs.

He saw one dog, a Boxer, across the way and he just had to tell that dog what was on his mind. It didn’t sound like it was anything good.

I felt terrible.

Like I failed the dog.

My thought at that time was that I had failed by not reinforcing enough of what he had learned with Kevin.

I now see that what happened was more about me. I was again carrying around unexpressed, unpleasant, and unhealthy emotions. I allowed it to flow downstream to the dog.

He let me know that was happening.

That experience, seeing O’Reilly turn reactive again combined with my own self development journey showed me what I needed to see.

The change would have to come from me.

As part of O’Reilly’s training that special summer he spent in Vermont, his final stages of testing before returning home involved Kevin taking him into town and being around lots of dogs and people. That took place in Brattleboro, a town in the Southeast corner of the state, near the border with NH and Massachusetts.

Brattleboro happens to be the home of one of my favorite breweries, btw.

My post-marriage beau and I loved both the Brattleboro brewery and the town and we decided we would take O’Reilly there one day.

In the spring of 2020, we did. We had already acknowledged our relationship was ending, but it was a promise we had made to O’Reilly - as kooky as that may seem - and we both wanted to honor it. We chose a weekend during the time when our relationship was winding down. It was a perfect day for the trip.

When we rounded the corner driving into town, O’Reilly stood up in the backseat of the car. He looked around.

He knew where he was.

O’Reilly in Brattleboro….

He seemed excited, but also calm.

It was as if all the training he went through nearly 7 years before all came flooding back over him.

He couldn’t wait to get out of the car. He showed me exactly where he wanted to go – a tiny little green leafy corner of a park in the center of town. It had a low ground cover plant growing there. He just wanted to stand in it and look out at the sidewalks while people walked by. I got the feeling that maybe he wanted me to spread some of his ashes there one day. When I had that thought, he turned around to look at me as if he heard me say it. And smiled in the way only dogs do. Telling me I should.

We walked up and down the street and encountered not 1, but 5 different dogs. Some didn’t care less about him, 3 of them did. 3 of them barked like crazy at him – the way he did at the Boxer at our local brewery.

He walked right by, as if they were of no interest whatsoever.

He laid down on the sidewalk while we sat outside to have lunch. Two dogs walked by. He didn’t care. He just laid there with the self-assurance of a very comfortable, confident dog who knew exactly where he was.

He seemed zen. And looked as if he had again reconnected to his purpose.

I had the opportunity to spend a few minutes alone with him at the lunch table and I looked at him and realized this was his story.  This was his purpose. His journey, the ups and the downs, the sadness and triumph. A reminder that our choices and emotions impact way more than just us. That love always helps growth. That when we own our own stuff, we make the world a better place. There’s more, I’m sure. He has more stories to share. This is just the first. I felt in that moment that all he wanted was for me to share his experience so it could help others.

I began to cry.

He found the calmness and serenity again on that day, the feelings that had begun to escape him, by going back in time to the place he had found it.

His story was his purpose. Landing with me, someone who could and would see it and write it to share it with the world, was the way it was supposed to be.

He wants everyone to know that we all have the capacity to heal, to let go of what is hurting us or causing us to hurt others, we can all have a second chance. That we all have the ability to feel good, love, and be loved.

Sitting, remembering when we last felt good, and noticing what was going on for us is all we have to do to bring good feelings back.

You don’t have to go to Brattleboro to experience it (although please do – it’s a great, magical little place).

You just have to decide what feels good and embrace it with awareness, compassion, and a desire to let it guide you to bring more good into the world.

I don’t feel like I’ve quite gotten it right - there’s more to what his experience means. It will come. Perhaps just sharing his journey will have a different impact for you.

Until I figure it out, this is a great place to start.

O’Reilly’s 14th birthday is fast approaching. His body fails him often. Sometimes he falls down. Sometimes he doesn’t quite get outside in time. Some days now he can’t get off the deck. Just when I think today may be the day to let him go, he looks at me with one of his goofy dog grins, and takes off after a squirrel, as if to say, “Nope, not yet!” I know he probably doesn’t have a lot more time with us, so we’ll just appreciate what we get and do our best to live in the lessons he has brought us.

*As for Kevin? I learned that he passed away in January 2021. He had a lot of impact on our little corner of the world and perhaps what he showed us will help others, too. RIP, my friend. Thank you for showing us what we needed to see.

Another update… O’Reilly crossed the Rainbow Bridge in March 2022. He met not one, but two more birthdays after I wrote this blog. In the meantime, he had many more good and not so good days. I had my back deck stairs entirely rebuilt so he could get on and off the deck to lie in the sun and watch the world from his favorite spots. His ashes have been spread in a few of his favorite spots, although I saved a bit for one or two others I may not have thought of. His memory, however, lives with us every day. They are never with us long enough! We miss you, buddy, and are grateful you chose to spend most of your 15 plus years with us.

O’Reilly’s special staircase.

O’Reilly, Nov. 2020