If any one of the people in Frey's puppyhood had been responsible, what could she have become?
Was she separated from her mom too early? Probably. It's a common practice to get the female back into breeding shape faster. Plus, the younger the pups are when you sell them, the less $ you spend on feeding them. Just give the owners a line of BS about how the pup will bond with them better if it's younger.
Was she ever socialized? She had only been handled by 2 men in her entire life. She had never been introduced to new sights or smells or sounds. She had no basis to know what was good or dangerous in the world. She didn't know how to understand people or even know that people = good things.
She was a drivey dog, lots of energy and brains, but never given the chance to use them. Her only passtime was digging holes in her kennel and finding ways to escape.
She was 2 years old and didn't even know her own name. By age 3 she was gone, too many demons for me to handle.
I struggled so long on the decision. Maybe I could find her a home. An older lady with no children, no friends and no visitors? Who also had a large fenced yard that would be inescapable and who also had unlimited free time to keep Frey's mind occupied like she needed? With infinite patience for a girl who would panic if you left an object outside it's usual place?
Ok, maybe that wasn't an option, as my dear husband gently reminded me.
Rescue? Well, she was developing fear aggression, having developed just enough confidence to try to protect herself from whatever scared her. They said that they wouldn't be able to adopt her out because of liability issues. If she bit someone, they could sue the rescue.
Our local "no kill" shelter said they would take her, but wouldn't be able to adopt her out. She would live the rest of her life in a small concrete kennel, the same way she began it. I couldn't sentence her to 8, 9, 10+ years in prison.
My husband said "she will just have to stay with us. I can handle her issues with me". That meant that he had to wait for me to grab Frey's collar before he could enter or leave a room. He had to avoid eye contact with her unless she sought him out. He was a prisoner in his own home with a ticking time bomb. My children were prisoners too. I couldn't risk them having friends over, just in case Freya was to get out.
I called my firend Chuck who had been helping me through her issues. He said "you've already decided what you have to do."
So I called the vet. I set up an early appointment so that Freya wouldn't have to be in a crowd. We asked for Dr. Emily because Freya trusted her and wouldn't be scared. We spent the last day taking a long hike along the bluffs and playing her favorite games. My husband drove me to the office and waited in the lobby. Him being in the room would just make her upset. They put in an IV and gave her the first shot. She got scared as she started to fall asleep and I put her head in my lap.. the second shot was given and Dr Emily left us alone to say goodbye. I told her what a good girl she wss and how sorry I was. I don't know how long we sat there. Dr Emily came to check and said that Frey was gone. "She'll not scared anymore." Is what Emily told me. She hugged me and told me to stay as long as I liked. Finally I left. Ronnie had already made all the arrangements for the cremation.
A few days later, I got a package from the clinic. Inside was a ceramic heart with Frey's pawprint and a card singed by everyone in the office. I sat down and cried when I opened it. That even these people at the clinic cared enough to understand what no one else in her life had. That Frey mattered and that she had something to offer anyone willing to listen.
