In August 2016, Sully, a Shepherd-mixed rescue, joined our family. I hoped having a companion would help Cash become more social with other dogs. What I didn’t anticipate was how much they would teach me and each other about acceptance.
The first time we met Sully was at the local dog park with his foster family. The shelter assured us Sully would be the right match for Cash’s aggressive personality.
When they first met, they exchanged cautious sniffs. Cash asserted himself around Sully’s neck, then both dogs retreated to separate corners of the yard.
There was a mutual understanding between the two – like they knew they’d both been through the ringer in another lifetime, and this was their ticket to the good life.
I had never met a dog with so many fears. Anything from crossing thresholds, to wind, rain, thunder, bugs, grass, Sully was terrified of it all. He tolerated humans but craved solitude.
Each day became an exercise in patience, learning to speak his language of careful approach and respectful distance.
Fast-forward several years, and Sully is now about ten (one never knows a rescue’s true age). His fears continue to haunt him, particularly doorways and sudden noises. A routine has become his refuge.
Each morning, he offers me a tentative dog hug, then backs away when he’s had enough, a boundary I’ve learned to honour.
Our early days were spent on lengthy walks and lake swims, burning off excess energy and anxiety. Now our evening walks are gentler, shorter.
Most nights, we sit in the gazebo beneath the pine trees. I want to believe that Sully lies in the cool patch of grass, laughing at his brother’s antics from afar, content to be by our side.
Cash didn't help Sully become more social.
They found something deeper: a wordless understanding that love doesn't always mean closeness, and that sometimes the greatest gift is being present.
Do you have a pet that has left an unforgettable paw print on your life?
I'd love to hear about them in the comments.
In this section of Ramblings From the Little Shed, I highlight creatives who are pursuing their passion and have a pet story to share.
Missing my buddy now ❤️
Such a beautiful, loving post. Sully reminds me of my brother and his family's rescue dog Fanny, who has continued to be tentative and anxious and barky since they adopted her ten years ago, but loving and well-loved at the same time. And she has the best reddish brown freckles!