SAVING MURPHY, by Kim Peterson

Eight weeks ago, I brought Murphy home. It wasn’t the triumphant shelter exit you might imagine. Murphy was still too terrified to walk on a leash, let alone jump into a car, so we carried him out in a crate. He was probably only seven months old when he arrived at the shelter. Day after day, he shook against the back wall of his kennel on top of his own feces, trying to make himself as small as possible. He was like that for an entire month, with no name, no collar.

When I asked to work with him, I was warned: “He’ll bite you,” “Be careful.”

But I looked at that frightened puppy and knew those words didn’t tell his whole story.

After a few days, I began to see glimpses of the sweet soul beneath the fear: a soft

look, a tentative tail wag, a puppy who wanted so badly to feel safe. With slow, patient handling, Murphy never once tried to bite Kelly or me when we were working with him.

By the time I got him home, Murphy was so traumatized by his seven weeks at YCAS that he barely slept. For the first four weeks, neither did I. Night after night, I played music and rubbed his belly until he settled, then started over whenever he woke. The sleep deprivation nearly took me out. And somehow, I would do it all again. Because little by little, Murphy began to believe he was safe.

                                          Being part of a pack helped him immensely. My dog Fenway

                                          helped teach him how to be a dog. He showed Murphy

                                          that other dogs could be friends, that people could be

                                          trusted, and that digging enormous holes in the yard is

                                          apparently a perfectly acceptable hobby. 

                                           

Now Murphy loves walks and car rides. He is gentle and friendly with everyone he meets. He plays,  explores, cuddles, and finally gets to be the goofy young dog he was always meant to be.

The dog I was warned about never existed. There was no aggressive puppy waiting to bite someone. There was only a scared puppy, overwhelmed by the shelter, waiting for someone to look past his fear long enough to find him. Murphy was never the problem. He just needed someone to be gentle with him and give him a quiet space to decompress.

And I am unbelievably happy to announce that Murphy has officially

been ADOPTED! He has found a home filled with love, patience, and the

safety he needed all along. He is thriving with his new family, living on 12

acres with his new best friends, an 11-year-old boy and two cats.

Enjoy your forever home Murph, you’ve earned it.