The woman had me sign the contract about brucellosis and not holding Southwest accountable, etc, etc. She handed me the AKC registration paper and the ACA paper. This dog's registered name is Graham's Lil Pepsi and her birthday was 2/21/02. The color is labeled as seal and white. The woman walked in to the trailer, opened the crate, grabbed out "my" dog and handed her to me. She said, "There you go. Sorry for making you wait" and she turned around and went back to helping with loading/unloading dogs.
I brought the travel kennel in to the hotel room with us when we got back. I smelled horrible. It was a mix of sweat, dirt, feces from the dog's feet, and something even grosser. Like I said, the male kept mounting her, even though she's not in heat. Well, "that stuff" was all over her too and now all over me since I had carried her to the car. I needed a shower.
I thought I'd save time and shower with the dog. It was a good idea. She was so scared that she stayed perfectly still while I lathered her up with shampoo. She even stood still while I rinsed her off! She looked (and smelled) a lot better after the shower. I offered her some water but she refused to drink. I hooked a leash I'd brought from home to the rope around her neck holding her auction number. As much as I wanted to take it off of her, I had to leave it on as a collar until I could get her a real one. I took her outside to a nice grass patch and set her down. She tried to run away but quickly hit the end of the leash. She struggled and pulled backing away. I took one step toward her to try to calm her down and she tried even harder to get away. It broke my heart to see this girl so afraid of human contact. Once she settled down a bit (so long as I made no movements at all) she started sniffing around. She didn't walk anywhere, she just stood and sniffed. I reached out my hand and she sniffed it and licked me. I was so very proud to have been deemed kissable by this little dog. She would not go potty, so I carried her back to the hotel room and put her in the crate for the night.
Sunday morning I brought her back outside to another grassy spot. I sat with her for a long time while my husband packed everything up and got ready to go. The dog sniffed around and actually took a few tentative steps around, so long as I didn't move. She stood in front of me and shivered. I was thinking that there's no way she could be cold. It was almost 90-degrees in Oklahoma and the breeze felt wonderful. But it was the breeze that was scaring her. She's obviously never felt the wind before. It saddens me to see a breed bred for running would be so scared of the wind in her fur. Again, she refused to go potty. She went behind me and put her feet up on my shoulders and sniffed my neck. She walked around and put her nose up my sleeve to sniff my armpit. I guess my deodorant smells nice. :lol: Back in to the crate she went. I walked through the hotel room one last time to make sure we hadn't missed anything. When I came back she had peed in her crate, so I cleaned it up before we headed out.
About twenty minutes into our trip home there was a horrible smell. When I say horrible... imagine the most disgusting thing you can... now put it in your car and drive around for a while with it... Yes, it was that bad. The dog had pooped in her kennel. The worst part is that there were no rest stops in Oklahoma OR Kansas on our way north! We stopped for gas just before we left Oklahoma, but they did not have anything to clean a kennel with. I went to the back of the car and opened up the back door. I put my hand up to the crate and asked how she was doing. She wagged her broken tail. I was so touched we stopped and bought her a McDonald's hamburger. Not that it's healthy for her, but with how skinny she is, a little fat won't hurt her I'm sure.
We had to wait until we got in to Missouri before we found a rest stop to clean the cage out at (outside spigot). I spent quite some time scrubbing the interior of that cage. She hadn't just pooped. She had smeared it everywhere; across the bottom, up the sides, all over her. It was bad. I managed to clean it all up and tried again to get her to potty outside. I sat on the sidewalk with her for some time while my husband sat with our son eating crackers. She stood there and would not move. I put my hand out again and told her it was ok; I wasn't going to hurt her. She took two steps toward me. I was impressed. She was making progress! Again, she refused water. A man there asked if she was a whippet. I said, "Nope. She's an Italian greyhound." He and the lady sitting next to him exchanged a confused look and the lady asked if she was a puppy then. I told her she was 2-1/2. I wanted to tell them her story, but we'd been there for a long time and really needed to keep going.
