Elska- We go home

Elska. Always ready for a tummy rub, even on her second day at home

I took her home in a three wheeler, clutching her to my chest. She smelled like filth but I didn’t care, I clutched her to me anyway. And she didn’t struggle. She simply sat still and allowed me to hold her.

When I took her home the others- that is my brood of four, frightened her a little with their playfulness and confident curiosity. I took her at once for a bath and I swear she smelled like she had never been bathed. It was then that I finally got a good look at her. She was long and appeared longer still because of her lack of muscle or fat. Every ridge from every bone was contoured beneath her skin and was visible to my eye and felt by my hand. The short, squat front paws were only a few inches from the ground and the back paws were unnaturally crooked, turned outwards somewhat like a ballet dancer’s feet, but without the grace. The cavern of her rib cage was outlined from the outside with each and every rib pressing through, and her stomach was convex. Hollow and empty. Her head was small, it fit into the palm of my own freakishly tiny hands and her ears, being not dependent on proper nutrition were her largest feature. They would have been her healthiest too if not for the fact that the mange has taken off a lot of the fur.

Her eyes were soft, feminine and brown. They took up most of her face. They were not happy eyes. They had no smile in them. Only an inherent sadness and something else. I recognized it immediately as I had felt that particular emotion so many times in my life. It was desperation. I knew then that she would be an easy dog to train because she would do anything to be liked, and anything to please. It was a desperate need to belong somewhere and to be accepted. And just like so many others in this world, all my little dog would ever want was that.