By Maureen Glanfield, Petey’s dog owner

Petey, my Beagle, came into my life like a bolt of lightning six months ago.  I had decided to get a dog for companionship so I thought getting a rescue dog would be a good winter project for me.  The intent was to get a dog already trained, so I checked out a lot of websites and chose an angelic looking smallish dog who appeared perfect in every way.  His name was Petey.

I put Petey’s photos as my computer screen saver so every day I got more attached to the poor little fellow who had just lost his human mom. 

After I applied for the adoption, I put Petey’s photos as my computer screen saver so every day I got more attached to the poor little fellow who had just lost his human mom.  Looking back, this attachment made me oblivious to the red flags that must have been popping up when the rescue group made comment like: “Petey’s not used to being left alone,” “Petey’s a little afraid of other dogs,” “Petey’s not used to being on a leash.”

In response to these comments, I would look at the doleful eyes staring back from my computer to me, and I thought, “How much trouble could a five year old little dog like that be??”

In owning dogs over the years, it seems I hadn’t run into breed specific traits to any great degree, so I paid little attention to comments about Beagles being hard to train, ground-sniffing balls of energy.  Staying focused on the cute little doggie on my computer screen looking back at me; I plunged forward, signed the papers to become the proud owner of Petey, and went to pick him up.

Even before I got home from bringing Petey over on the ferry from Vancouver to Victoria, BC, Canada, I had an inkling my life was going to turn up-side-down.

I attended dog classes, but the only time Petey was awarded the blue ribbon was in the class where he was the only participant.

The challenge began immediately.  I had to turn into a strong pack leader and Petey had to turn into a submissive dog-a total role reversal for both of us.  I purchased every collar known to man including one I call his Hannibal Lecter collar.  I attended dog classes, but the only time Petey was awarded the blue ribbon was in the class where he was the only participant.  Improvement has been made in the lunging at other dogs department, but the separation anxiety has been a different issue.  I tried to stop Petey from sticking his head out the cat door by placing a fully loaded freezer in front of the door—he actually moved the freezer out of the way in some sort of mighty bulldozer maneuver.

I kept repeating the Dog Whisperer’s saying, “There is a reason thisdog has come into your life.”  Finally, I got it!  I used to live in the past or worry about the future; now with Petey, I am living in the present.

The impact of this revelation came to me on a drizzly walk one day when Petey was being especially mischievous.  In response to Petey’s antics, I stopped in my tracks feeling very frustrated.  Then I looked up and saw a red piloted woodpecker on one side of the path, and a lovely Stellar Jay on the other side.  It seemed to me that they were saying:

“You may not have the dog you want, but you have the dog you need!”