And Then There was Moby

Getting through this one without crying is going to be tricky.
This is about the boy who changed my entire world and patiently taught me some of the most important lessons I needed to learn.

Over Christmas in December 2018, Spaniel Welfare received a litter of pups, just 3 or 4 weeks old, who had been brought in from a township, along with their mother. Thankfully, one of the incredible foster moms took them all in, giving them a safe space to adapt and grow together.

Sadly, it wasn't that simple.

All five of the babies had contracted Parvovirus from the conditions they were born into and had to be treated at the vet for several weeks. They spent one week back with their foster mom and dog mom before getting sick again and returning to the vet.

By then, each of the babies had already been matched with future owners, so we were getting daily updates on how they were doing.
Moby was known as “Red”, after the colour of his little collar.

“Sadly it wasn’t that simple”

Pictured is the day we met just before they got sick for a second time.

One morning, we got the news that "Red" was being separated from the litter because he was doing the worst. He needed to be placed on a feeding tube.
To say I was broken is an understatement.

For 10 days, “Red” remained critical, slowly fighting his way back, while the rest of the litter started to improve and were allowed to leave the vet one by one.
Due to it being Christmas time and many new owners and fosters were away, I took in the puppies as they were discharged from the vet, keeping them safe until they could join their forever homes. Of the 5, I placed 3 with their new families, 1 remained fostered with me and "Red," was still fighting for his life.

And “Red”, was still fighting for his life.”

Within 2 or 3 days of the 3 pups settling into their new homes, we received devastating news: they had all passed away.

Having loved and cared for each of them, I cried and cried. My hope for "Red" surviving began to diminish and I have my family to thank for the endless teary phone calls as I was going through this all.

New Year's came and went. I said goodbye to the last little one I had been fostering, sending him off to a wonderful family where he still thrives today. I managed to see him again at their neutering operations and he was gorgeous.

Pictured is the other pup to survive whilst staying with me

“And then finally - on 2 January 2019 - I got the call to fetch my little "Red."“

And then finally — on 2 January 2019 — I got the call to fetch my little "Red."

I was PETRIFIED.
The vet’s instructions were overwhelming: strict rules, pills, cleaning, sanitising - all to give him the best chance at survival.

My family and I watched him with bated breath, counting each day he made it through as a small miracle.

And somehow, this tiny fighter survived.

With zero social skills, no idea what it meant to be a dog, no memory of his siblings or mom, digestive issues, no understanding of what he had just survived, and every reason not to trust me - he chose me anyway.

As he grew and strangers saw his "aggression" and "reactivity" and even suggested behavioural euthanasia, it was never a consideration to give up on this boy after all he went through. His behaviours did bring IMMENSE stress for me and total paralysis on how to handle him, plus the codependence developed during COVID, I was at a total loss.

HOWEVER, he is now turning 7 this year and the growth and confidence I have seen in him is incredible!

We keep showing up - imperfect, a little out of step with the world around us - but moving forward together remains one of the greatest achievements of my life.