New People

I agreed to take Brenda for one night. That was nearly eight months ago. Before she demonstrated any aggression—any problems at all. She was so cute and met many new people those first few days. She was shy, but the growling and snarling didn’t manifest until about a week into our relationship. On two separate occasions two different female friends came over to meet her. Both times she was tethered, thank goodness, because she may have bit them. They got a little too close, a little too in her face and she wasn’t shy about telling them so.

Only Belisa’s introduction has been successful. Probably because I dropped her off and left for a week while I vacationed in Aruba. Brenda had not choice. (I want to try that tactic again, but my consciousness gets in the way. I truthfully didn’t know what Brenda was capable of then and now I do.) The trip had been planned for months. That was just two weeks after Brenda was rescued.

When I got back from my trip I set out to find her a new home and set a goal of Ben’s brother’s wedding in May. Before I’d have to leave her again. While writing a story on a performance artist/choreographer, one of the dancers I interviewed wanted to meet Brenda. As soon as this woman bent down to say hello, Brenda snarled. We decided to hang out together in my neighbor’s apartment, anyway (They were in Israel for a month and their dog was staying with us. My apartment was a little crowded.) Brenda slept on the couch in the sun and I chatted with the potential adopter about dog ownership. I decided that Brenda shouldn’t be anybody’s first dog-ever.

Then came a gay man who wore a cross and wing-tipped shoes to meet her. By this time, because of Brenda’s growing hatred for Ben, I knew that a woman was preferable but I wanted to use this meeting as an experiment. To see what Brenda would do. On the phone, I told the man to avoid making eye contact with Brenda because it made her nervous. The first thing he did was pop down to her eye level and put his face in hers. She wasn’t happy, but even if she had been, he was out of the running. Too apt to do something stupid that would result in something horrible happening. Besides, he had his heart set on adopting a French bulldog at the same time. Disaster in the making. He asked if Brenda would kill it.

There were a few other people here and there, but I eventually stopped looking for potential adopters. Brenda needed a lot more rehab before I’d feel comfortable giving her to someone else. At least I had Belisa to help me. Brenda stayed with her while Ben and I went to Berkeley for Ben’s brother’s wedding, and then every other time we either left town or had company staying with us.

It was many more months before we tried to get more people into Brenda’s life. Robin came in October. She took the ‘let’s be friends’ approach by emptying the contents of her purse and letting Brenda smell each item. Sally, who swims her, had a dream the other night that involved Brenda telling her how safe she felt in her arms. But Morgan is the person I’m currently most excited about, and actually feel hopeful that there’s a future for her and Brenda.

I met Morgan at our last sidewalk sale for Brenda. She bought a few items and I gave her the pat speech about the poor dog we were raising money to care for. She was intrigued, told me that she just moved to NYC, used to train seeing-eye dogs and was interested in volunteering her time to us for whatever we needed. Most importantly, she seemed normal.

She’s been walking with Brenda and either Belisa or I for the last week and is unfazed by minor growling and the fact that Brenda has a muzzle on. I knew Morgan was a keeper when I told her to anticipate Brenda wearing a muzzle. Her reaction was “Ok, I’m not squeamish.” Every other person has asked whether or not she bites.