Margie is six years old - a Scottish Terrier - who we sometimes we call the Scottish Terrorist - that we found at a county shelter in Indiana while picking up another dog in June of 2003. One of the employees showed her to us and she was one of the most pathetic dogs we’d ever encountered. Basically she was hairless due to a horribly severe case of a flea allergy (and it’s related type of dermatitis) as she was infested with the bloodsucking parasites. Margie was turned in by her owner and according to the intake employee it was an elderly woman who left in tears after giving her up. She explained that her dog’s condition had been getting progressively (and aggressively) worse over the past two years. When asked why she had not sought veterinary care, the woman explained that she couldn’t afford it due to her husband’s illnesses and his subsequent death that drained them financially. She also made the obvious understatement when she said she had not been able to take care of her dog since her husband required so much of her time. Whatever. She could’ve done something. A bath. Some Frontline. Anything instead of ignoring and neglecting Margie as long as she had. When we tried to enter Margie’s run at the shelter, she snarled, snapped, and cowered in her space. We decided to let her be, overwhelmed as we were with over fifty dogs at that time at our sanctuary. However, later that night, Margie and her pathetic condition consumed our every thought, including our dreams. In good conscience we couldn’t let her be destroyed just because she exhibited some fear aggression. The next morning we went back to the shelter and adopted her (since Margie wasn’t spayed she had to be altered by the shelter vet before being released). At this point we were determined to win Margie over so we went into her run and without attempting to touch her, opened a can of smelly Dinty Moore beef stew and acted like we were soooo enjoying it, yummy noises and all! Sure enough, Margie’s demeanor went from super suspicious to carefully curious. Her olfactory urges got the best of her and within ten minutes she was eating out of our hand - literally. There was a double dose of Benadryl and a pill called “Capstar” (which kills fleas in thirty minutes but used ONLY in extreme cases like Margie’s and always with veterinary supervision) in the stew to help alleviate her intense discomfort. After about an hour of visiting, we left Margie with a T-shirt we’d worn the day before. The very next day she let us give her a skin soothing shampoo (with cortisone), gently fluff her dry and settle her in a cage (instead of her drafty run). With a soft, cushy comforter to lay on, a smoked bone to gnaw rather than her skin, she was set. By the time we arrived to pick her up five days later, Margie was up on her hind legs, wagging her tail, and enthusiastically barking to us. Despite having been spayed the day before she was very chipper and very sassy. As we took her out to potty before getting in our truck to come home with us to the sanctuary, she trotted along beside, on lead, as if she were at Westminster! After one month with us, her skin had healed about 90% and within six months her reactionary tendency to snap when touched (let alone be picked up) turned into an affectionate display of compliant trust. We tried to adopt Margie out two different times, but she was returned. The main complaint both times was that Margie was skittish and wouldn’t let them touch her. They simply weren’t confident enough to be the Alpha (especially with Terriers) that she would (and does) respect. Nobody wants an insecure leader - animals or humans. These days, Margie is extremely happy, healthy, and hasn’t itched in more than four years. Every night, she hops into the bed and cuddles up close. She’s well mannered, playful and she has a great sense of humor - with a dash of sass! She can live out her days here without a care in the world ( except, of course, keeping her collection of found “treasures” intact! ). She gives kisses for no reason at all and even follows directions...yes, a Scotty who follows directions without a lot of so called “training”. Just lots of love.
