Little Rudy froze on his leash, his stocky legs and huge paws seemingly welded to the floor of the safe kennel. He’d seen others like him go down this path before he came to this facility, except they never returned, only the stench of death getting stronger with each disappearing dog. I could tell he was sure no good would come of this. His giant pointed ears were paralysed with fear. We picked him up and carried him to the dog park, and I promised him in a soft voice that he was going to somewhere that I was sure would bring him joy, as it does to so many other dogs around the world. He had no reason to believe me — humans have failed him over and over again. This time it would be different, I promised him. Little Rudy’s ears were still pinned back, but the look of joy on his face when those paws of his touched grass for the very first time was impossible to conceal.
Then his entire body flopped down into the soft greenery, as if to make sure every square inch of his body could feel its sensation. He promptly took a nap right then and there. For what was probably the first time in his young life, Rudy must have felt a sense of peace. Tears rolled down my face for him — for what he has seen, for what he has been through, for the love he will now be receiving, and for other dogs like him who never will.