A Tail Tale of the strongest of pups!

I want to share the story of my little baby Roxy and how she came into our lives.

We got Rox in December 2007. My brother had just returned from working in England, and he showed up to our hose with Lil puppy Roxy in a brown basket. She was so damn cute, she had a little round puppy belly, and she was fast asleep.  I wanted to call her Chino, as in, Cappuccino. But my brother settled on Roxy, for a Jack Russell, very original.

She was a naughty puppy, she bit my toes, walked under my feet, and she ate three of my chargers. I struggled to deal with her. I got so impatient. As a teen with stress, anxiety, and depression I had a short temper, I could not deal with any sort of problem or conflict. It was tough.

There were, of course, good days, I walked around the complex with her, she would follow me around, and eventually, she even knew the way home. She was super clever but still naughty. Eventually, my brother left the house for another job, and my mom and I were left to raise her.

She was unbelievably naughty, and eventually, my mom and I decided to give her up, we gave her away to my brother’s boss, who had a big yard and a lot of other dogs. I felt like shit for doing that, even now as I am writing this, I cannot believe I gave up a dog. She was there for only a few weeks, but the house was empty without her. Quiet.

My brother went to visit often, and he mentioned to my mom and me, that wherever he went by, Roxy was being bullied by the other, bigger dogs. When she saw my brother, she would sit on his lap and breathe a sigh of relief. He brought her back home.  When she came back into the house, she was shaking. She refused to eat, she didn’t even sit on the couch with us like she used to. She cowered in her little brown basket, hiding from us. I felt absolutely terrible. I caused this. Because of me, this poor little soul was scared of us. Scared of her home.

This was my chance to make it right. I learned to be patient with her, to be calm and not get frustrated. Eventually, she came back onto the couch and started sleeping with me in my bed again. She was back to her old self, sort of. She still flinched when we tried to touch her, 12 years later, and she still flinches. I hate myself for that.

For years she was a great dog, no problems, no signs of trauma or abuse.  She played ball, she went outside to pee, and she rode in the car with me. She was amazing.

In recent years, she has become more aggressive; she would absolutely not let anyone except me and my mom touch her.  Not the vet, not my sister, no one. Not even people she knew for years. I am used to it by now. She´s a bitch, just like her mom. She has even started biting, something she never used to do. She has bitten me in the face, on my hands and arms quite a lot of times, I never react when she does this because I know why she does it.

 I have noticed that is completely involuntary when she does bite me, I will be petting her or kissing her, and suddenly she just attacks me with no warning. But after every time that she bites me, she immediately starts licking me to say sorry. This is a reaction to her having been treated badly, and I try my best to not make her feel bad. She never gets punished for biting me, because it is my fault she was treated the way she was.

Her baby brother, Nunu has definitely calmed her down. He relaxes her and lies close to her when she is stressed or nervous. He´s like her spirit animal.

I can still see signs of her having been treated not so great, and I try my best to calm her down. In all this time that we have had here, she has grown so much, and she has taught me a lot. She taught me to trust and patience and love and compassion.

I would not trade this little monster for any other soul in this world.