No story of mine sparked this much mail since I long ago applauded Raymond Berry’s decision to start Tony Eason over Doug Flutie.
As I recall, the word “dog” showed up in many of those growling missives as well.
This time the mail flew in via cyberspace and was all kind and supportive. Several e-mails were heart-tuggers. All encouraged my sleepless efforts to soothe a terrified pound puppy my family adopted on Dec. 28. “Juneau” loves to snuggle and go for long walks on the beach, only you first have to run her down like you are Ray Lewis as she skitters between the security of her crate in the kitchen and the living-room sofa.
Juneau still has not wagged her tail, and still only eats if nobody is looking. But cherished readers and dog-lovers have inspired my patience.
One woman e-mailed me about a 3-month-old Shiba Inu mix with “a curled-up tail and long bat-like ears” and emotional issues that melted her daughter’s heart during her visit to the Lowell Humane Society. The woman’s daughter, a 15-year-old diagnosed last September with a serious liver disease, now has a companion who curls up with her in bed at night.
“... And it all makes sense,” the girl’s mother writes. “I am not really a dog person. (But) I can’t even remember what it was like before he was here ... Good luck in your adventures with your new little girl.”
One woman wrote me about a blind dog she and her husband adopted after she underwent surgery for breast cancer and was about to start radiation treatments. “We decided that we needed to focus in on something else ...” the woman wrote.
They kept the name given the dog at the pound, “Jose Feliciano.”
That was 10 years ago.
“We have learned a lot from Jose,” the woman wrote. “You can’t let your disabilities hold you back. You still have to climb those stairs in life ... Don’t give up on Juneau. The ride will be worth it.”
Another woman e-mailed me pictures of her dog, Erik, suggesting he might be Juneau’s cousin. Like Juneau, Erik was rescued roaming the streets of Puerto Rico and was adopted from the Northeast Animal Shelter in Salem. He came home skinny and frightened and still prefers that his head not be patted from above.
“All the other little quirks he had from being abused are pretty much gone,” the woman wrote. “I thought you would like to know that.
“I am in a wheelchair, and he is great company and protection for me.”
Another woman, a former dog trainer, suggested “clicker training” to help Juneau overcome her timidness and provided links to articles about shy dogs. Juneau, I am proud to say, will soon attend “Canine University.”
Since Juneau was rescued in Puerto Rico, a highly practical e-mailer suggested I learn Spanish. “Dave, your dog doesn’t understand English,” the e-mailer wrote.
Which is precisely why I am sending Juneau to college.
Posted By David Pevear, Sun Staff