Black Labrador Retrievers to the Rescue

Here is Moka, our first female Black Lab. Yes, they do come in both sexes. It was a surprise to me also.

She was one of those "strays." (Definition: a collective term used by anybody, especially those wanting to get rid of a pet they no longer want, to mean dogs of an unknown background, or a known background, but the humans do not want to admit it.)

Moka's story goes like this. Call from local resident: Someone dumped this dog in our backyard and we can't keep her. She's really friendly and sweet, but we just can't afford to feed her. Response from me: We are full. Actually over-capacity. Response from caller: If you can't take her, we'll just have to shoot her. Response from me: (after praying someone shoots them) Fine, where do I pick her up? Caller, again: Oh no, we'll bring her to you.

Now, that was my indication that they had most likely gotten her as a puppy. Now that she had grown into her size, but hadn't grown out of her puppyhood (very typical of Labs) she had become too much to handle. The most familiar story I've heard in all my years of animal rescue.

Moka is really one of the sweetest dogs I've ever met. At about a year old, she is truly still a puppy. But, she's also not a pure Lab. Another very common tale in my line of work. This picture makes her look quite calm. But, that only happens when she has a full tummy (which is the case in this photo) or when she has tired from a great play session.

This is Sonny. He is a most recent addition to our Center, but a very welcome one. He is also about a year old, also mixed with some unknown other breed and also a large puppy. Sonny came to us by way of another shelter. His history may say stray, but he is showing us some of that history by way of his behavior.

There is evidence that Sonny suffered some abuse in his past. He tends to cower when we reach a hand out to pet him. This behavior is not new to us. Nor is the "cure." But, it takes patience and time. Patience to keep petting him and not give up. Time to show him that human hands will only bring the good stuff.

The shelter where I picked him up is located about an hour from the BuckHawk Center. We put him in the backseat where he stayed for about 2.4 seconds. Then he joined me in the front seat and curled up for the drive. I've seen the eyes of many dogs and many have touched my soul. Sonny was one of those. His eyes told me he was unsure if I would allow this change in position, but when I didn't get mad, try to force him to the back or do anything other than talk to him, his eyes said relief.

For the majority of the drive, I had only one hand on the wheel. The other hand was buried in Sonny's luxuious fur. At first, he cowered. Then relaxed. By the half-way point in the journey, he had his head in my lap. Sonny and I had made our connection.

This is Morton. He's a 2 year old Black Labrador Retriever. And his humans surrendered him. Not very often, but sometimes, the owners actually admit that they have to give up their dog. In Morton's case, it's because he was just too much to handle. Wow, big surprise.

Morton also comes from another rescue group, where he had to be separated from all other dogs because he was too rough with them. Well, duh. Any dog that size needs lots of exercise. A 10x10 kennel is just not enough room. At BuckHawk Center, Morton has a play yard that's 50 feet long and 30 feet wide. And he plays beautifully with other dogs, when they all have the room to run and romp and wear off their extra energy.

He may be 2 years old, but he's still a puppy. And that puppyhood will most likely continue for another year. Wonderful, happy Morton is the victim of just being himself.