Author: Tressa Lucas

Dewey came from the South Los Angeles shelter and was the only small dog in a kennel with big dogs. He was not big in size, but he was big in personality.  A fear of dogs was not Dewey’s issue, he was fearful of people.  At a young age, he was severely abused and it left him damaged physically and psychologically.

I met Dewey twelve years ago when he was living at a rescue facility.  The staff named him Dewey and it seemed perfect for him.  He was in a caged area with big pink iridescent signs that stated, “DO NOT TOUCH…BITES!”  He was tiny, but he was mighty.  He acted like the cartoon character the Tasmanian devil, spinning around, growling and barking at every passerby.  You would not dare look at Dewey, let alone touch him.   After he completed his tirade, he stood with his little tail wagging and made eye contact.  I was actually able to connect with him.  As I watched Dewey, I could only think “What on earth happened to this dog to make him like this?”  It was hard to tell his age.  He did not move in a normal way and it was clear he had been the victim of severe abuse.

When I saw an opening I confidently reached down and picked Dewey up.  I do not recommend people ignoring signs and putting themselves in danger, but I did have an established relationship with the organization and a lot of experience with dogs – so I took a chance.  Dewey had developed quite a talent for scaring people off, so my confident movement caught him off guard.  If there was hesitation, he was emboldened.  When I held him he did not seem to mind.  But, when I put him back down into his pen, he dared me to do it again.  Of course, I took the dare.  Dewey and I established a relationship of mutual respect.  When he saw me his little tail would wag while he was protesting.  I would say, “Oh, Dewey, you are never going to find a home acting like that!”

One day a very nice woman came to the facility looking to adopt a dog.  She seemed to overlook the scary signs and focused right in on Dewey.  The funny thing is she kind of looked like him with reddish brown hair and a fearful look in her eyes. She had a very calm way about her and seemed to know a lot about dogs.  I told her about Dewey’s abusive past and resulting behavior.  The next thing I knew, she was holding him.  Nobody was able to get near Dewey except me, so this was very interesting.  He seemed very comfortable with her.  She, too, had been through a difficult time in her life and connected with Dewey – she wanted to help him.  She ended up adopting him, but he was returned not because she could not handle him, the other members of the household could not.  The good news is she adopted another dog that was a better fit for her home.  And, I got the call, “Dewey’s back.”  So, we picked him up and he lived with us.

Fast forward twelve years. Dewey made progress but never completely recovered from the abuse he experienced in his young life.  He loved Nika and felt very safe with her.  I was not spared a few bites from Dewey over the years, but I loved him nonetheless and learned to show my affection confidently yet cautiously and on his terms.  He always walked in a crooked wobbly way.  He softened over time, but he was always Dewey, my little problem child.

Dewey lived much longer than I ever thought he would.  His ability to move around lessened and his eyesight was almost gone. I told him to let me know when he was ready to go.  However, he kept going.  His strength was truly an inspiration.  He never showed any signs of pain and never lost an interest in eating.  He looked forward to his meals until his last day.  On Tuesday, October 6, 2015, Dewey wanted to be outside.  A few hours later, I found him laying peacefully in the yard.  He went on his terms and that was his way.

Goodbye Dewey, our time together went so fast.  You may have been little in size, but you made a big impression on our lives.

Animal abuse is unacceptable.  Hopefully, Dewey’s story will inspire people to help put an end to it.