Smokey, the Surprise Shepherd

It seems that more often than not there is a surprise shepherd around Christmas time. This year's arrived a little early, just like the incessant holiday music and decorations that seem to arrive earlier and earlier each year.

I was planning to do a little shopping and some hiking today when I listened to a voice mail on my phone that changed the course of my day and the course of one dog's life.

There's a group called Dogs Deserve Better-Blue Ridge, which, among other things, does good work for dogs who aren't receiving the best of care from their owners. I'm not sure how Smokey came to their attention, but I saw this picture of him on Facebook, along with many other people. The details are sketchy, but it seems that the dog's owner had died a couple years ago. His widow had been keeping the dog but she has been developing dementia. An elderly friend or neighbor was coming by a couple times a week to help, but clearly the dog was being neglected. He's not neutered, of course, and appears to be young.

Smokey had probably never been out of the space where he was being kept and was very under socialized. The dog was formally surrendered but proved to be difficult to extract from his filthy home. An animal control officer was called to help and was able to get Smokey into a crate and into a volunteer's car. She was aware of Smokey and had taken him food in the past. She thought he was about two years old. The original plan had been to take Smokey to the vet, but clearly this dog wasn't going to be cooperative with that, so he came directly here. This is where I came into the picture. Up to now, one very brave young woman had handled everything, including transporting the dog.


Smokey was scared and wasn't interested in being handled by a stranger, at least not until he was out of the crate. I met him with a slip leash and a bowl of food and eventually got the leash on him and got him out of the crate. It was about then that Clay got home from work and got his Christmas shepherd surprise. We put him into Sparky's former kennel, affectionately referred to around here as Rottweiler World. He's got a 20' x 25' kennel, with several shelters in it, a deck, and an attached 12' x 20' shed that has a dog house in it that I'll fill with blankets tonight. Tomorrow I'll get him some fresh straw for the outdoor shelters in the kennel. I'm quite certain that it's better accommodations than he has ever had. We'll give him some time to decompress, observe things around here, and settle down so I can figure out what we're dealing with. I've gone back out to see him and he seemed glad to see me. He's not aggressive, just scared.

The dog had apparently been existing largely on a diet of those waxy Pupperoni treats. I had just mixed up a batch of Satin Balls for the Danes and Theo yesterday evening. That came in very handy. He wasn't sure what it was, but he tried it and liked it. I had already slipped some meds into the meat mixture and will probably give him something else before we retire with the hope of a quiet night's rest for all of us.