Special Stories
Safe at Last

By Kathleen

Corky (Red #1220)

When I first got Corky as a foster dog, he'd growl when I touched certain areas of his body, when I approached him as he was lying in the corner, or whenever he felt scared, trapped or confined. It didn't take long to see he'd been mistreated and neglected — most likely he had been yelled at and hit, his genitals had been abused, he'd been confined in small places and he'd had several owners.

On his first night in my house, Corky seemed to do everything right and fit in perfectly. But now I understand that his polite, quiet, well-mannered, "under the radar" demeanor was how he tried to stay out of harm's way. He had other survival tools as well. He watched people to figure out how to please them. He had learned that sitting quietly didn't provoke anyone, so he sat up straight and proper a lot — quietly hoping for attention and tummy rubs.

He enjoyed going on walks, fetching tennis balls and playing in the water. He would sometimes run exuberant loops around the back yard — flying across the lawn, in and out of the garage, and on and off the deck. Then he'd do it again another couple of times, seemingly out of pure joy.

Corky loved lying in the grass on his back with a baseball between his paws, rolling the ball over and over and up and down his legs. He loved to eat — no food bowl of his ever knew a leftover! He would literally quiver in anticipation of rawhide chews and his nightly treats. He often napped and slept flat on his back.

Corky got along with other dogs, cats, kids and strangers as long as he didn't feel threatened or trapped. Once he started feeling better, he'd let me touch him anywhere on his body and not growl. He started to let me hug him. He wanted more loves and belly rubs. After two months, he was starting to trust again. He was blossoming into a loving, gentle and endearing golden retriever. He was trying so hard to trust that humans would not put him in a position of suffering and pain again.

But in that two-month period, Corky bit five people. In all five cases, he felt threatened or trapped (for example, being touched in places that hurt or vet staff trying to give him a shot). When he was scared, when he thought someone was going to hurt him again, he defended himself by biting.

Golden Bond Rescue and Murrayhill Veterinary Hospital tried their best to help Corky recover physically and emotionally. But because he couldn't overcome his fears, we couldn't trust him not to bite again. The years of abuse and neglect were too much for him and us to overcome.

In his two months with Golden Bond, he got healthier and happier. He was learning that people could be kind. The last full day of his life was spent swimming and retrieving tennis balls in the Sandy River and may have been his happiest day ever. Polite until the end, he would patiently sit in the shallow water, waiting for a ball to be thrown his way.

On July 13, 2005, Corky was put to sleep.

Those of us who knew Corky are heartbroken. He was an endearing young guy who deserved a better and longer life.

Let us all hope that Corky is now someplace where his dog dish is always full, where he is surrounded by rivers, treats and tennis balls. Corky, we hope you're somewhere in the universe romping with other goldens and getting lots of tummy rubs. We hope you are — at last — feeling happy, loved and very, very safe. No dog deserves love and safety more than you.

— Corky's Foster Mom (Kathleen) and two others that loved him (Carissa and Sharon)

Read the article by another Golden Bond volunteer.

July 28, 2005
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