Tabu's Story

Tabu came into the SPCA shelter in the cold, snowy January of 1999. Her icy blue eyes had a piercing look to them. I was scared of her; she was probably more scared of me. She was rescued from abusive owners, but then left outside to bear the elements with her five newborn puppies. She arrived with only two surviving puppies. They were one week old and had frost bitten pink tummies.

I always carried treats when I did my rounds at the shelter, while feeding and cleaning up after the dogs. Tabu cowered in the corner of her cage, and I wasn’t sure if she’d bite out of fear. So I kept doling out the treats to keep her happy.

Soon, when I arrived for my shifts on Saturdays and Sundays, she’d be jumping in the air with glee, wagging her tail. She was a new dog. All she needed was to learn to trust. It was a long process, and each new person had to put in the time and energy to get to that place: to see Tabu as a “normal” dog.

Once pups get to weaning age, most mother dogs get a little aggressive and territorial at feeding time, biting their pups if they approach her while eating. But Tabu was different, she backed away and always let her puppies eat. So much that I had to separate them, so that she could actually eat. Soon, her puppies had grown up, and were placed for adoption. Tabu was placed for adoption as well. I tried so hard to convince people that she would come around and be a different dog once they earned her trust. It was hard to believe, when she stayed in the corner of her cage, head down, staring, sitting on her tail and shaking.

Eventually, it was spring. Tabu had been at the shelter for 4 months - a long time. Her time was nearing, she just wasn’t very adoptable. At the time, I was leaving my job due to school/homework demands and the stress and sadness of working with so many unwanted animals was becoming too much for me. I had seen many happy endings, but I had also seen many tough ones as well. There were too many animals and not enough homes. So many animals were coming in and getting sick, because all of a sudden they were in a stressful environment around so many other animals.

There were a lot of tears involved and then, “can we just have her for the weekend to see if it could work?” My mom’s heart is just too big, we couldn’t send her back. My Dad agreed, probably because his daughter was so upset about this dog that was likely going to be euthanized. Tabu just looked so happy perched on the front step, her nose in the air. It was a big deal in our family when Tabu’s tail was up. My Dad even walked her and she would be happy and carefree. It took years before he could come up the stairs with his briefcase in his hand without scaring her. He built her a pen and a “to spec” insulated dog house. That was the deal; she had to stay outside. She could come in on Christmas day. Well that didn’t last too long, soon she was part of the family. Her fur all over the house, her accidents (she was an outdoor dog for 4 years before we got her – so her house-training was at times non-existent), her deathly fear of thunderstorms.

She loved going for walks and hikes, running off-leash, playing with other dogs, running along the beach, lying around, and eating, all that typical dog stuff.

However, she posed many challenges in the 11 years that we had her. The day before we were supposed to adopt her, she escaped the SPCA and was running loose on the Kingsway (a very busy road that is part highway near the old site of the shelter), she was caught and then went in for her spay surgery, where she started hemorrhaging and almost didn’t make it. She was so afraid of thunderstorms, that the whole thunder-storm season was very tough. During a storm, she’d be up all night, panting, shaking, pacing. Tabu sure did a lot of pacing in her life. She tore apart a mattress once during a storm. Her soiling would last for months after some bad storms. She’d develop separation anxiety that would take months and multiple strategies to shake. She started bolting when off-leash, and attacking dogs she didn’t know. She did have a little circle of friends that she could run loose with and play with.

Nonetheless, when stressors and causes of her anxiety weren’t present, she was a wonderful dog. She was mellow, relaxed, quiet, and gentle. She’d follow my mom or me around. She rarely barked her whole life, but she would do a great howl when really happy, and kneel up on her back legs, with her paws in the air. She always seemed so grateful, and she’d stare right in your eyes with pure trust - once it was earned.

I’ll be forever grateful for all that my mom did for her. I went away to school, and of course left the dog with my parents. It was supposed to be my dog, but she took the responsibility. I came home, bought a house, and took Tabu back. We had her for almost 3 years and she got along great with the cats. Then I had my first baby and we had those awful moments where I’d be standing there holding my screaming, colicky newborn and Tabu would be covered in poop from her latest anxiety attack. But, we toughed it out. However, over time, other life circumstances made our household even more hectic for our nervous dog. As well, Anderson was 18 months and following Tabu around and she was stressed, so I’d keep her outside, but then she’d pace.

My mom rescued her again. She gave her a peaceful home, where her needs were better met. She gave her the best, in her final year; the year that she aged. Tabu was remarkable in how she kept her youth for so long. At 10, 11, 12 years, people would still mistake her for a puppy. But in that last year, it all caught up to her. We made the decision on Friday, September 17th. I stayed at my parents place, my mom made her scrambled eggs with cheese, I took her for a last short walk that morning. I held her chin as she got drowsy from the sedative, she was so relaxed, which was nice for a dog who spent so much of her life so anxious. One of my past co-workers now works at the veterinary clinic. She was there too. It was nice to say goodbye to a dog that had lived her life. We could have been in a room like that 11 years earlier, but we weren’t.

It is hard to say goodbye. But I was sadder for what was gone, for what Tabu was before age took over her body and mind. She was at the end and we couldn’t get her back. I will always have the memories and the lessons learned from sharing in her life.

I went back to the waiting room with her collar in my hand. I said to my mom “Thank-you for taking such good care of her”, but really I should have said “Thank-you for loving her”.