You don’t know me, but I know you. Or, more precisely, I know the end result of your actions.
You see, I adopted the dog that was once yours.
When I brought Watson home I could tell that someone had once loved him. How else would a slightly overweight 12-year-old mini dachshund with no teeth have zero health issues?
He has clearly had someone that cared at some point. He’s housebroken and knows some basic commands, has already taken to his new name, and loves socializing with other dogs and people. He loves to snuggle.
But even with all the good that Watson’s past has created, there is still a lot of bad. The poor little guy seems terrified that I’m going to leave him, clinging to me when we’re in the house and upset when I leave.
He cringes away from people that are trying to touch his head.
He cries in his sleep. A LOT.
I don’t know Watson’s full history; after all, he was brought in as a stray, not microchipped and never picked up by his people. But I can only assume that there was a mix of good and bad in there.
So, on behalf of rescued strays everywhere, I want to thank you for the good you provided in Watson’s life.
As for the bad, I don’t know your story. Maybe you abandoned him, leaving him to fend for himself, maybe you passed away and he became ownerless, or maybe it falls somewhere in the middle. If it’s the first I’m glad he is no longer with you, and if it’s the second, I’m even more sad for Watson.
I’ll never know his beginning, but I know his ending. However you treated him for the first 12 years of life is unknown to me, but I will certainly work my hardest to make sure the last years of his life are great.
Your dog’s new person