Rescue dogs can teach us so much: Niki Hinman celebrates the life of her rescue West Highland Terrier, Albert
Thank you Albert. We miss you.
Albert died last week. We reckon he was about 14, so a decent age for a West Highland Terrier.
Although some people thought he was a Sealyham Terrier on account of his fabulously floppy ears, long body and deep, yet curiously comical bark.
Every morning, when I am first downstairs, I miss him anew. There is an emptiness.
Suffice to say Albert was quite a character.
The clear uncertainty of his parentage and age is because Albert was a rescue dog.
I’d like Albert’s life to be celebrated here, because apart from the awfulness of his passing, it brings joy to remember him, and provides the opportunity to big it up for the rescue dogs.
So here’s his story.
We picked up Albert from the Dogs Trust in Newbury in 2015. He’d been found as a stray in Thatcham. He had been injured and was an anxious creature.
The people at the Dogs Trust said we should take him home for 24 hours, to see how he got on with Gertrude – our Cairn Terrier.
Needless to say, there were no issues. Within five minutes, Albert jumped on the sofa, and made himself comfortable at the arm, in what became his customary and rather regal pose.
He’d obviously been on a sofa before. And he and Gertrude became inseparable.
I suppose that’s the thing with rescue dogs. You have to be patient, and see what they respond to. Good and bad. There is not ‘training’ as such. More observation and understanding and allowing them space and time.
I can’t remember when Albert finally stopped barking each time someone left the room.
For years he barked at anyone either coming in or out.
It was his response not just to every unexpected touch but to every almost-touch, too.
Albert wasn’t happy with anyone stroking him, and would growl if there was much more than a gentle pat or stroke of the head.
If anyone apart from me merely walked past this dog, he would become anxious.
One day, he decided to trust me, and while it was always wise to exercise caution, much like trying to cuddle a polar bear on occasion, he would follow me everywhere, and always be there when I looked down.
In his later years, he would greet guests with a sniff and happily sit in his bed enjoying the company.
He would even enjoy going to the pub and allow people to stroke him.
He used to gravitate towards men and stand next to one he’d decided he liked. Perhaps his one-time owner had been a man? It was quite heartbreaking to see sometimes, as he was still clearly looking for his original human.
Year by year he gained confidence. He bore almost no resemblance to the fearful, troubled dog we adopted.
Never much of an athlete, possibly due to his injuries, or his long body and short legs, he also learned to play with other dogs. Small ones. Not big ones. He certainly had small man syndrome!
People who hadn’t seen him in a while invariably made some version of the same observation: “This is not the same dog I met last time.” Just a happier, braver version of himself.
Adopting a rescue dog is both rewarding and the right thing to do – but they can be complicated.
Albert had his issues. So sympathy and consideration was, and is, needed for any dog being rehomed.
Albert taught us so much about boundaries, about how to respect a dog’s personal space and how to adapt to their needs.
Our society expects dogs to adapt entirely to the ways we want them to behave.
Yet it’s us who are abusing and treating dogs badly.
Looking back on Albert’s journey it reminds me that I, too, am still trying to understand a world that holds so much cruelty and so much pain.
It just makes me feel very proud of Albert, and how he adapted and learned to trust again, despite the brutality, the hunger, the fear.
The body remembers pain. The brain holds on to trauma. But we also cling to kindness.
When cruelty is all the news ever seems to hold anymore, I try to remember that too.
I hope Albert felt and understood kindness. I think he did.
There is a lot of guilt around the death of a dog. And a lot of awkwardness. For every stab of loss comes another of shame — a sense of self-indulgence.
Real tragedies abound. People lose whole families. He was “just a dog”.
Did he feel loved? Could we have loved him more? Could he have understood what was going on during that final vet visit?
It was a kindness, but it felt brutal.
I’ m grateful for the lessons he taught us. For his love and loyalty. For the grief I barely feel entitled to.
He has a nice spot to rest at peace in the garden now. Next to his friend Gertrude. We will plant a rose there for him.
Thank you Albert. You’ve been brilliant.
In the past year, Newbury Dogs Trust has rehomed 265 dogs.
It is currently looking after just over 30 dogs at the Newbury rehoming centre, with another 30 currently with foster families.
Adam Clowes, Dogs Trust Operations Director said: “Dogs Trust urges people thinking of buying a dog for Christmas to stop and think first; it’s a huge commitment.
“Anyone considering getting a puppy, or a dog of any age, needs to carefully consider all aspects of dog ownership, including the responsibility and associated costs such as healthcare and insurance, and caring for your dog when you are working or away on holiday. Before taking the plunge, we recommend visiting the Dogs Trust’s website for advice on being dog ready.
“We hope people who have thought carefully about adding a dog to their family will visit one of our rehoming centres and consider adopting one of the thousands of dogs currently in rehoming centres across the UK. Whilst we do not advise buying a puppy for Christmas, if anyone is still considering buying one, please visit the Dogs Trust website for advice on buying responsibility.”
