The Little Pack

The story of Jackson began one day during my lunch break when I went to the animal shelter “just to look.” I finally lived in a place where I could have a dog and I was even able to bring a dog to work. I had been waiting to have a dog forever. I thought I wanted a black lab puppy, kind of the best of everything, easy going, lots of endurance for long runs and hikes, but also content just to hang out. I had lived with a border collie named Cowboy and a golden retriever named Sage, and although I absolutely adored border collies, I thought that a more mellow breed would be a good idea.

At the shelter, there was a crazy dog named Butch, who sprang up in the air continuously, a female golden retriever who was a little older, 7ish maybe. And then there were 2 border collie puppies, about 6 months old, named Ziggy and Marley. Marley could have cared less that I was there. He was mildly interested in me, but that was about the extent of it. But Ziggy, Ziggy came right up to the door of his cage and put his snout through the opening and gave me kisses. His broken heart was obvious and he was scared and insecure. I immediately felt a connection to this dog.

Someone suggested I take him into a separate area and spend time with him away from the other dogs. I put the leash on him and he stood facing away from me with his nose in the corner of his cage. I spoke to him in my most persuasive voice and still he did not  move. I had to pick him up and carry him into the other room. He continued to face away from me with his little face in the corner. I tried talking to him, but he was so afraid he just kept staring straight ahead. So I sat down next to him and removed the leash. We sat that way for a long time.

Pretty soon, he stopped staring in the corner, and turned to face me. I didn’t dare talk or even breathe because I didn’t want to spook him. He took a few steps towards me and I sat perfectly still. He laid down next to me and put his head on my leg and my heart just broke into a million little pieces. Before long, he had climbed up into my lap, and put his head inside my fleece and let me pet him. This was the moment I said to him, “I think that I need to take you home with me. OK?” So I did, and Ziggy became my Jackson.