Where the Good Boys Come From

Luca's adoption story

The year was 2017 and I was in my third year of veterinary school.

I was on my Equine Internal Medicine rotation and having a rough week. Though I was excited to finally be out of the classroom and working as a doctor-in-training, clinical year came at me like a ton of bricks — the equine services especially.

The Alabama summer heat was insufferable, my attending clinician — hypercritical, and the demands of my clients — relentless.

I never took a lunch break, but on that day I needed one. In search of a quick serotonin boost, I drove straight to the local humane society and volunteered to “socialize” the puppies for an hour. Surely that would do the trick.

The shelter was full to the brim, as always, with mixed breed dogs of every variety — barking, jumping, and chewing at the cages — doing just about anything to steal your attention.

In the back row of kennels, all the way to the right, sat one dog conducting himself a bit differently. Seated quite properly at the front of his kennel and not making a peep, a sweet little golden gumdrop of a Labrador puppy turned his head to the left and stared down the row at me expectantly.

It was love at first sight.

I knew the back row of kennels was held for dogs that weren’t available for viewing or adoption. Upon inquiring further with one of the kennel workers, I learned that my new love interest was on ‘stray hold.’ Someone had brought him in earlier that day as a reported stray, so the humane society had to hold onto him for a week in order to give the owners an opportunity to claim him.

This was all just a formality, though.

He went on to explain that the person who relinquished the dog had tried to do so on the day before, but on behalf of another party. Naturally, they were turned away. You can’t just bring someone else’s dog to the shelter to give it up.

But on the next day they returned, this time as a “Good Samaritan,” claiming that they had found the puppy on their farm. A farm, he added, that was known for breeding and training Labradors as bird dogs. This particular Labrador though, they assured, wasn’t theirs.

Right.

I didn’t need any further information. One week later I took my second-ever lunch break and returned to the humane society the moment the dog was due to be released from stray hold. The kennel worker opened the steel door to the lobby and out came trotting that golden Lab, tail in full swing. Although we had only exchanged a brief glance the week before, his eyes found me straight away, somehow seemingly knowing that he was coming home with me.

What wasn’t obvious one week earlier from a distant side-view was clearly visible now — he had a profound limp in his right forelimb.

On top of that, respiratory signs concerning for pneumonia. But three legs or four, snot-nosed or not, I thought he was absolutely perfect. And he was all mine.

An x-ray the following day revealed his probable reason for relinquishment — a hairline fracture of his proximal right humerus (upper forearm).

Likely fearing the costs of treatment, his previous owner elected for a trip to the shelter over a trip to the veterinarian. A tale, unfortunately, which I knew all too well.

Lucky for this pup, however, his fracture had already begun healing, so beyond some NSAID’s and a few weeks of rest, no further treatment was necessary. Before long he was back to full health, and the two of us were inseparable.

My golden pup has come a long way since then.

He’s road-tripped across Europe and kayaked down rivers, swam across Nordic lakes and hiked through the Alps. He’s terrorized the pigeons of Manhattan and hunted African geese (albeit unsuccessfully — he flunked out of duck hunting school, after all). We’ve moved from neighboring horse pastures in Alabama, to the bustling streets of NYC, and further onto the red brick roads of Amsterdam.

But in each new city we venture, and no matter how often we move, I still get the same feeling of joy I did on that hot summer’s day in Alabama years ago, when I can turn to that sweet, golden, loving face and say:

Welcome home, Luca.

Each year, nearly 1 million shelter animals are euthanized in the United States, alone. Thanks to the incredible work of organizations like the Lee County Humane Society, Luca wasn’t part of that statistic. I hope the next time you consider adding another four-legged member to your family, you’ll choose to adopt a shelter animal, too. I may be biased, but in my opinion, that’s where the goodest boys come from.

Dr. Sami

P.S. If you’ve read this far, please hit the reply button or drop me a comment! I’d love to hear how I could make this newsletter more valuable to you.