I moved to Central Oregon (Bend) in 2002 with my three mini schnauzers (Raison, Sneakers, and Booh) and in June of that year, I adopted Splatter from the Humane Society of Central Oregon – a three-month-old English Setter/Great Pyr cross. I loved his gentle personality and when my sweet Rai-Rai passed later that year, I wanted to adopt another English Setter. I was volunteering at the Humane Society when Spudley (named Jazz at that time) was brought in as a stray. I put an adoption “hold” on him immediately, but later that same day his owner arrived to claim him. I spoke with his owner who told me Jazz was about 17 months old and was a Lewellyn English Setter who had been trained to hunt. I gave the man my name and number and said if he ever needed to rehome the dog to let me know.

Time passed. My Sneakers, pining for her mother Raison, joined her on the other side of the bridge. I continued to volunteer at HSCO and, one day, I got a call from Troy, the Animal Care Director, letting me know that “Jazz” was back – once again turned in as a stray. I again put a “hold” on him and, this time, his owner never came to get him. That was his loss and my gain. Since the dog didn’t seem to know his name was “Jazz,” I renamed him Spud, which soon morphed into Spudley.

Spudley was neutered and then came to my home. He was a mess – skinny, dirty, and smelling like he’d been dipped in urine and left out in the hot sun to dry. He and Splatter got on immediately.

My house in Bend was large – 4 bedrooms (all on the 2nd floor), a formal living room, great room, etc. on 1.5 acres of fenced land. Three of the bedrooms were furnished, but I had no furniture for the fourth. It just sat vacant – a medium-sized, carpeted room, down the hall from my master.

I think it was the first or second morning after Spudley had arrived at my house, that it happened. For some reason, I felt strongly that I had to look in that empty room. I did and what I saw made me gasp. Spudley had had diarrhea all over the place. And, I mean all over! The carpet was covered in it! I took a deep breath, then turned, closed the door, and called all the dogs to me.

“Let’s go outside,” I said, racing with them down the stairs and out the back door.

Once they were happily romping around my property, I closed up the doggie door, grabbed the Nature’s Miracle, paper towels, etc, and headed back to the 2nd floor.

After the diarrhea was cleaned up, I used my Hoover rug cleaner to shampoo the carpet. It finally looked good as new and I went back downstairs and made breakfast for my very hungry dogs.

I never scolded Spudley about the mishap. I never mentioned it at all. But later that evening, as he lay on the dog bed next to the couch gazing at me, his long tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, an expression of sheer joy on is face, I knew he knew he had done the worst thing he could have possibly done and nothing bad had happened to him. He was home.

I also realized something else in that moment. There’s a lot of talk about unconditional love and some people think it’s automatic – that dogs love indiscriminately. Well, they don’t. You have to earn their devotion and you earn it with kindness, consistency, patience, compassion, and love. Bringing a new dog home from the shelter doesn’t make him suddenly “yours.” He/She doesn’t know you and, given that his or her life experiences with humans may not have been optimal, he/she may not trust you either. And, as a result, the newly adopted dog may put you to the test by having diarrhea all over your carpet or by chewing up your best pillow or shoes. Or he/she might be more creative – like my Chelsea – and poop in your slippers so you get a big surprise when you put them on in the morning. These are things that can happen with a new dog that you kinda have to roll with. Oh, you can reprimand, but do it gently, with compassion and consistency.

Unconditional love is also a two-way street. You need to love that dog as much as he/she loves you and let him/her know it.

Spudley was with me for 14 years. He was a constant joy and never had a mean bone in his body. Unfortunately, he developed PRA (progressive retinal atrophy) and eventually went blind. He also developed Canine Cognitive Disorder, the doggie version of dementia. He died in June of 2017. So, today, I once again say “goodbye” to my sweet boy as I have in the month of June for the past six years. He was my Spudley, my Spuds, my Mr. Snuggles, my “littler.”

Tears in my eyes…thank you Spudley for everything you gave to me.

Love always, Mom.

P.S. – As for that hunting training – that was all B.S. Spudley was terrified of gunshots, thunder, etc, and would have been little use as a hunting dog. Didn’t bother me in the slightest!