Love goes to the dogs

My single experience in internet dating ended with unexpected revelations. Browsing the profiles of potential candidates I was discouraged to find that almost all were either too old or too young for me. Then I scrolled to a head shot that immediately grabbed my attention. The face was sincere, the eyes appealing and the age ideal. The accompanying profile revealed that this individual loved the great outdoors, liked cats and enjoyed long drives in the country. Deciding that we could be the perfect match, I set the wheels in motion to meet this stranger who, like me, was looking for love.

I received a prompt reply from the Kingston Humane Society, advising me that the dog that had captured my fancy was a Basenji Hound mix named Jessie, seized in Indonesia by the Humane Society International. She had been rescued from a truck filled with 50 dogs headed for a slaughterhouse. She was two years old and already had a colourful history. After a short time at a rehab centre in Quebec, following her rescue, she had been sent to the Kingston Humane Society to be placed for adoption. Sent to a foster home to wait for her forever family, she was returned owing to “inappropriate elimination.” However, shortly afterward, she was adopted. Her adopter was cautioned that she was a flight risk (Basenjis are notorious runners). A few days later, she escaped custody and was captured only after a harrowing chase that convinced her new owner he had made a wrong choice. He returned her to the shelter and on her in-take form wrote “needs more training.” She was assigned to a new foster home to await adoption for the second time.

I was put in touch with her new foster dad, who provided me with a detailed report on my potential adoptee. He observed that Jessie did not respond to her name, was prone to flatulence and required close supervision at all times. Undeterred by this report, I made an appointment to meet her and was required to bring my Border Collie/Husky cross, Kieran, with me to determine their compatibility. Kieran is a sweet-natured dog, who like Will Rogers, has never met a stranger, just a friend he did not know. He was overjoyed to make Jessie’s acquaintance and she appeared to find him marginally acceptable, if rather dim-witted. The adoption papers were filled out and signed and Jessie was given a new name, Rowan, and a new beginning.

I quickly learned that Rowan was a chewer, a fact that had not been mentioned in her profile. Since the beginning of our relationship, she has chewed my cell phone (luckily I retrieved its remains before she chowed down on the battery), the legs of the kitchen table, numerous books, socks, two flashlights and numerous other items. On one occasion she ingested an unknown substance that resulted in a bill of $1,450 from an emergency veterinary clinic. After testing, mysterious traces of marijuana were found in her urine and I was questioned closely as to whether I liked to bake brownies. Rowan also steals. With the extreme athletic prowess of the Basenji, she can leap from the floor to the centre of my kitchen table. She has stolen a pound of butter, numerous sandwiches and, once, a hamburger. A dog with no inhibitions, she shows no remorse following her periodic bouts of flatulence. She does like cats, as advertised, but in the way that other dogs enjoy squeaky toys. Her clumsy attempts to play with the kitties leave them running for cover at her approach. However, at nap time, they happily curl up beside her.

Rowan arrived from Indonesia speaking no English. However, she now possesses an excellent command of the language. In the way of Basenjis, she is highly intelligent and learns new commands quickly—however, obeying them is a different matter. Unlike all of the other dogs I have owned, Rowan is not quick to show affection. She does not give kisses or beg for attention, but a half-hearted wag of the tail occasionally is given. Obviously, Rowan was not looking for a true relationship, just a sponsor to pay her veterinary bills and keep her food bowl full.

She was not the partner I thought I had found when I turned to the internet in search of love. Wilful and independent, she has made it clear that she is no shameless tail wagger seeking to ingratiate herself. In spite of our differences, we have forged a companionship based on mutual respect. Rowan is her own dog and makes no apologies for it. I accept her as she is. She has taught me that love is not always wine and roses. Sometimes, it is watching a rom-com with a furry friend who falls asleep beside me on the sofa, snores, then experiences a bout of flatulence as the credits roll.