For those who don’t know, my day job is as an Accounting Manager for a manufacturing company in Fort Worth.
Just about a month ago, I noticed a little dog hanging around in our company’s parking lot.
I was immediately concerned because our facility (and the street it’s on) is high-traffic. A lot of tractor-trailers coming in and out and forklifts constantly moving things around.
I was terrified the dog would be run over.
Imagine my surprise when I found out the little darling had been spotted up to four weeks earlier by some co-workers. So for two months, at least, this dog had been dodging death by vehicle.
At first, she wouldn’t let anyone get closer than about twenty feet, which is the approximate distance this photo was taken from:
I couldn’t get her out of my head – so I began to plan.
Every day over the next two weeks, I brought food and treats, and made sure I kept my voice calm and sweet while talking to her as I carefully approached the spare tractor-trailer she liked to hang out underneath. I wanted her to eventually associate me with first food, and later, safety.
It seemed to take forever, but one day, about eight days in to my efforts, I noticed that when I filled her little makeshift food and water bowls, she didn’t run. Nope.
She shocked the hell out of me by coming to within two feet of me.
I was ecstatic, but couldn’t let it show for fear of startling her. So, I kept talking, soft and low. But at that point, I started calling her Mollie.
Two days later was the first time she let me touch her – and when she did, it was like a dam broke loose in her mind.
She transformed before my eyes from this shivering, timid creature to a happy dog, tail wagging, letting me hand feed her, even plopping down beside me to let me love on her. In the process, that little angel stole my heart.
By the next day, Mollie trusted me enough that I was able to scoop her up and take her to the vet, who determined her to be a Pomeranian / Chihuahua mix and approximately five years of age. We updated her shots, and Mollie got a bath and a grooming and a clean bill of health.
I loaded the very well-behaved fur-baby into my car and took her home with me, determined to give her a great, loving environment alongside Scooter and Harley (shown here):
SO. We get home and I am super excited because I’ve rescued this beautiful little girl off the streets….
And then all hell breaks loose.
To their credit, Scooter and Harley didn’t start a damn thing. Mollie did, though. That little girl’s Chihuahua side manifested in a HUGE way, to the point I had to kennel her overnight because she was super aggressive toward my two very confused and clueless terrier mixes!
I was CRUSHED, ya’ll. I had just known down to my core that we’d be one big happy. But it wasn’t meant to be.
Whatever trauma Mollie suffered previously was unclear, but one thing was certain – this otherwise perfectly behaved angel would do best in a single-pet household.
Which meant that no matter I much I loved her, Mollie couldn’t be mine.
The next morning, completely dejected, I walked into our Human Resource lady’s office, and I fully admit that when she asked me how Mollie’s first night at my house was, I burst into tears. I explained the previous evening’s events and my co-worker held up a hand.
“I think I can help,” she said. “Can you send me a picture of Mollie?”
I immediately texted her the below picture I took after I picked up Mollie from the vet’s office:
And ya’ll. When one door or window closes, another one opens.
Within minutes, my co-worker’s husband responded to the text she’d sent him with Mollie’s picture, and said “She’s cute, we’ll take her.”
Long story short, that very day Miss Mollie found her forever home – a warm and safe environment where she gets to be the sole focus of all the love and attention.