Author: Tressa Lucas

Trudy  was a young Husky I met at the first animal organization I volunteered with.  My time with her was very short, but everlasting, and a thought of her usually crosses my mind every day.  During the brief time we had together, I learned that a caged environment is not the best place to assess a dog’s personality.  A little bit of time, patience, and love can make all the difference for a homeless dog between living in a cage or being adopted.

It was one of the first rescue organizations established in Los Angeles, located in an old run down building in the middle of a very exclusive part of the city.  The dog kennels were in the back…dark, dingy, with a lot of dogs barking.  One day during my lunch hour, I visited the facility.  As I walked through rows of kennel cages, I saw a husky sitting quietly in the far back corner of the kennel run.  Her name was Trudy.  The manager of the facility told me she was very shy and nobody could go in to see her.  I stood at the gate and watched her for a few minutes.  She could not have pressed herself more firmly against the back of the kennel, trying her best to get away from anyone who approached.  There she sat in her own world, avoiding eye contact of any kind.

Returning the next day, I went straight for Trudy’s kennel run.  There she was in the same place in the same position as the previous day.  I talked to her in a low calm voice and kneeled down to her level, while outside her kennel run.  She was clearly uncomfortable and would not look at me.  The next day I did the same thing and there was Trudy slammed up against the back of her kennel run.  This time, I slowly opened the kennel gate and entered.  I stood, turning my side to her so as not to face her directly, and just talked to her, again in a slow calm manner.  She quietly watched me.  When I kneeled down inside the kennel, she became very uncomfortable and began to turn and fidget, showing me her teeth.  I sat there quietly, not directly looking at her but facing away.  Trudy and I sat in opposite corners of her kennel run for about an hour; finally I decided to move a little closer, while remaining in a seated position.  She watched me intently as I inched slowly closer while sitting on the kennel floor.  Although she showed her teeth again, I was able to get a bit closer.  We were making progress.

The third day, I repeated our routine.  On this day, she was not pinning herself against the corner of the kennel run.  She was sitting a little further out.  More progress.  I entered her kennel slowly, turning to the side and kneeling down.  I started inching myself closer and closer to her, slowly.  She watched me quietly.  I finally got a little closer to her than I had the previous day.  She started to move a bit and fidget.  I remained at that distance and just sat there quietly with her for a while.  She would look away and then back at me.  She was starting to connect with more eye contact.  Slowly, I kept inching closer to her, until we were about two feet apart. I finally decided to reach my lowered hand out to her slowly, not knowing what she might do.  To my surprise, she did not show her teeth – more progress.  She remained sitting, just looking at me quietly.  Turning my glance away from her, I sat with my arm extended.  A few minutes later, I turned my glance back to her and said quietly, “Come on Trudy.”  She lowered herself down slightly and inched towards me.  I was not quite sure if she was preparing to lunge in an attack.  She was still tense, but not showing her teeth.  In that moment, everything seemed to stop – barking dogs, people talking,…time itself.  It was an intense connection with her that I will never forget.  While watching her, I asked her to come one more time.  While lowering herself again, she moved forward and suddenly leaped into my arms.  We sat together until I was able to put a leash on her and take Trudy on her first walk outside.  She was scared and remained glued to my side.

When I arrived at the facility the next day, I learned one of the other volunteers was able to leash Trudy up and take her for a walk.  She quickly learned to open up to other people.  About a week later, Trudy was adopted.

Shy and scared dogs have a more difficult time getting adopted because they do not show well, so people move on.  Time, patience, and love can make a big difference in a homeless dog’s life.  My three days with Trudy made a difference in her life.  They made a difference in my life, too.