I’m Odin! And even though I am almost three years old, my life never really began until August 16th, 2013.
It’s funny how the whole “life” thing works. My Mom tells me that, “God will never put a mountain at your feet unless he is sure that you can climb it,” so I guess God knew that even though the first couple years of my life were something from a nightmare, I would put my head down and climb. I would climb all the way to the top, and find my forever family there waiting for me.
I can’t tell the story of my life with words, so I say it with my eyes. My eyes speak of a sadness and wisdom that a dog as young as me should never know. It was this sadness that drew my Mom to me in the first place.
You see, she is what humans call a “rescuer,” but to dogs like me, she is an angel. In August of last year, I was picked up wandering the streets of San Bernardino, CA, by an animal control officer. The woman who would soon become my Mom, saw my intake picture on one of the rescue pages she follows on Facebook. “He’s gorgeous, he’ll be adopted quickly!” she said; but sadly, Pit Bull type dogs are abundant in the shelter I was in, and people kept passing me by…
The day came when the shelter saw me sniffle just a little bit and declared I was getting sick. They scheduled me to die at 5pm that night. My Mom was at work when she clicked on my picture and saw that I was on “the list.”
My picture was a sad one, and looking at it now sometimes makes my Mom cry. She saw my sad eyes looking up at the camera, screaming, pleading, for a chance. And just like that, she decided to give me one.
With California Bully Crew Rescue willing to back me, my Mom drove 2 1/2 hours to the shelter to save me. When I met her, I dove into her lap with all 80 pounds of me. She held out a treat for me, and I shoved it aside, choosing instead to give her kisses of gratitude.
When we pulled onto the interstate to head back to San Diego, I lay quietly beside my new Mom, who at the time, was only my Foster Mom. I nuzzled her hand has her eyes filled with tears—we were so grateful to have one another. And then suddenly—BAM!—her tire blew! She managed to exit the interstate and pull into a parking lot, but we had to wait in the sweltering San Bernadino heat for over an hour just to get a new tire on.
We sat underneath a shade tree and Mom joked with me, saying that “something blue” is supposed to be lucky! It was at that moment that a man in a car drove by slowly, and then lowered his window to ask my mom what my bloodlines were, and if she wanted to breed me. She was so angry! I was hours away from death, because there are just too many Pitties, and this man wanted to use me to create more!
Needless to say, she stayed (somewhat) composed, and we got our tire replaced and hit the road! So long old life!
The road to recovery was long and hard for me. Once Mom got me home, she quickly realized that I had been abused and neglected. My short little ears are edged in tell-tale scar tissue that can only come from a job performed with kitchen shears. I was terrified of being reached over, or having my collar grabbed. I was curious about my brother Loki, but if he touched me I would tense up and growl. I had thick calluses on all of my elbows that the veterinarian said comes from a life lived on a concrete slab. When Mom tried to bring me into the house, I would balk at the door, terrified of coming in.
Mom hired a dog trainer, Fernando of Canine Education, who did a wonderful job at coming over and working with me, and showing Mom what she needed to do to help me learn to trust humans. It certainly wasn’t easy, but now I happily lounge with my brother and have no problem being led by my collar!
Mom spent 6 months as my foster mom when one day, a wonderful application came through for me. When she had the realization that I might get adopted, that I might leave her forever, she couldn’t stop crying. That is when she made what she calls the ‘best decision of her life’, and decided to adopt me officially!
Now I go with her to dog walks, pet expos, adoption events, and was even in a parade! I have what humans call a Cinderella Story!
No one will ever know exactly what happened to me before I was rescued, and for that I am grateful. No one needs to know what was on the other side of that mountain, all that matters is I made it to the top, and after so many years of sadness, I am finally home.
Oh, you can follow me on my adventure on my Facebook page: Odin’s Way Home!
Thank you for reading my story!