My
New Name is Tundra
Peg Hutsell
  
Hello,
My new name is Tundra, I don’t remember my old name, in fact,
and I don’t remember much about my old life at all. I want
to share with you what I do remember so that perhaps you can help
others.
I
am an Alaskan Malamute mixed with wolf; I am a big dog. I used to
be chained and hardly given any food, and no clean water. One day
I snapped the chain that bound me and ran away. The dog police found
me and took me to the dog jail.
There
was a nice lady there that helped me. She named me Tundra and she
looked deep in my eyes, and she saw that I was a good dog, regardless
of the 2-inch chain and padlock around my neck. This lady tried
to get the chain off of my neck, but she kept saying that she was
afraid to cut it for fear it would hurt me, it was so tight. Finally
a man came with some tools and did something to the padlock and
my chain fell away. The lady gasped and I thought I was going to
be beat again. But instead she took me to the doctor because I had
sores around my neck from the chain and they had maggots in the
sores. The doctor cleansed my neck and gave the lady a medicine
to put on my sores. He also looked at my front leg. See, when the
dog police found me, I had a bandage on my leg. I’m not sure
now, what happened, because so many things had happened in that
life…before. The doctor said it was a fresh wound and he didn’t
know what would have caused it, he had never seen anything like
it. I had. The doctor said I was severely underweight and only weighed
40 lbs. that’s not much for a big guy like me. I was only bones
and skin.
Back
at the dog jail, I was given a lot of food and fresh water. I couldn’t
drink the water from the dish, because I didn’t know it was
for me. So when they washed down my box, I would drink from the
puddles. I was really thirsty and I couldn’t understand why
they gave me food, but only sprayed down my area twice a day. Oh
and the food…It was really good, and as hungry as I was, I
had never had a dish before, so I would spill my food out and eat
it off of the floor.
The
people at the dog jail were pretty nice to me, but I was afraid
that they would beat me or worse, so I just stayed by myself and
if they came too close I would try to run away again. They had me
in a fenced box that they called a run, it was an okay sized, but
I couldn’t get far enough away from them when they came, so
I would go as far as the fence allowed and then because I was so
scared I would poop on myself. It was very embarrassing and it only
made me feel like surely they would beat me, for messing my clean
run, but they didn’t. I would just stand there with poop running
down my legs and hang my head. I was so sorry but I couldn’t
help it. Fear does horrible things to your body and you just can’t
control them. The people would always come to me and put the medicine
on my sores and talk nice and soon I realized that they wouldn’t
hurt me so even though I would try to run away from them, at least
I didn’t poop on myself.
 I
stayed in the dog jail for a long time. They couldn’t put a
leash on me to walk me because of the sores on my neck. Once they
were healed though, they did come with a rope and I thought that
the good times were over and they were sending me back to my old
humans. I didn’t want to go with them when they put that rope
around my neck so I refused to leave my run. I even showed them
my teeth to make sure they knew I meant business about not going
back. They persisted and guess what? I didn’t go back to my
old home, they took me for a walk! After that first time with the
rope, I waited every day for my walk. I really like stretching my
legs, something that was hard to do with that chain on my neck and
chained like I was.
One
day a lady came to see me. She seemed nice, but I wouldn’t
let her touch me. She talked sweetly and said she had a home for
me, just the mention of a home, sent fear coursing through my body.
They WERE sending me back. I wasn’t going! Even though I had
gained about 25 lbs. I was no match for the 3 men that came and
put a glove on my nose, picked me up and put me in a very small
cage in the back of this lady’s van. I trembled with fear.
The
lady drove me to another doctor’s office and there was a man
and a lady waiting for me there. They were to become my new mom
and dad, but I didn’t know that then. The doctor saw me and
around my privates was pretty sore and red so she made me lie down
on my back and with a needle took some pee from my bladder. It sounds
awful, but really it hardly hurt and I never moved, because I was
so scared. The doctor told my new mom and dad that I had a bladder
infection, probably from not drinking enough water and gave them
medicine for me.
Two
big guys and my new dad lifted me and put my back in the small cage
and then moved the small cage to the back of a pick up. My new mom
and dad drove me a long way to what was to be my new home.
Once
at my new home, mom and dad had to force water into me with a big
syringe because I would only drink out of puddles and the play pond
they had for me. I wouldn’t drink the clean water in the dish.
I didn’t know that I could and that I wouldn’t get beat
if I did.
The
first year in my new home wasn’t good for either me or my new
mom and dad. See I was afraid of everything. My playmate, a cute
little husky girl, scared the poop out of me, literally. Mom and
Dad wanted me in the house, especially at nights and they would
insist! I had never been in a house and in my old place, every time
I came even close to the door they threw things at me, so I hated
doors, they hurt. I learned however, that doors don’t hurt
and the house is warm in the cold of the winter and cool in the
heat of the summer.
I
didn’t want mom and dad to touch me, people had been really
mean to me in my previous life and I had learned that when people
touch you, they hurt you. I did like to be brushed though. I have
a lot of fur and no one had ever brushed me in my whole life, so
I let mom and dad brush me and slowly I learned that good things
come from human hands.
I
was afraid of many things, white paper especially scared me. I don’t
remember what started that, but I can tell you that it scared me
bad. Mom worked with me and gave me paper, I would rip it up and
stomp on it and carry on until finally I realized that the paper
didn’t scare me any more.
Other
dogs came into our home, because my new mom was a foster mom, and
slowly they showed me, along with Shonee, that cute husky girl,
that mom and dad would never hurt us and I didn’t need to be
afraid of them. I was still afraid of other people that came over
and a stranger would cause me to run to the other side of our yard
and do that fear poop thing. Shonee, my husky girl, would always
come to my side and tell me that it was okay, that new people meant
someone new to pet us and scratch us. She wasn’t even embarrassed
that I had poop running down my legs. Slowly, with Shonee’s
help, I learned that new people were okay and mostly they were more
afraid of me then I was of them! Those that weren’t afraid
of me would give good scratches and pets. I had learned to love
those.
One
day, after I had been in my new home for about 2 years I decided
to try to drink out of the house water dish. I had learned to eat
out of a dish and I was even given my very own, big red bowl for
my food. I also learned I could drink out of the outside bucket
for water and it was clean and always fresh and tasted really good.
My girl Shonee showed me that. But one day I wanted to try the water
in the kitchen. Mom and Dad were sitting at the kitchen table talking
and slowly I approached the dish. Several times I had to run back
outside via the doggy door because I was so scared. Each time I
came in though, I would get just a little closer to that dish. I
really wanted that water, Mom had put ice in it to keep it cool
for us. Finally I worked up the strength and courage to get to the
bowl and I took a few small laps of the cool water. It was wonderful!
I heard Mom start crying she seemed to do that everytime I got over
a fear. I turned to look at her to make sure I was doing okay and
she told me that I was the bravest, bestest, boy in the whole world!!
How I love those words…I took a huge drink and now only drink
from the kitchen bowl, unless we are outside for a long time.
I
have gotten over most of me fears now. Except for one. I am still
terrified of spray cans. You see I was sprayed with something that
hurt my eyes bad. In fact one day my new Mom thought I didn’t
see so well and took me to the doctor. The doctor thought I had
something called PRA, that us Malamutes can get. She sent me off
to a doggy eye doctor. He told my mom that I didn’t have PRA,
but someone had sprayed something in my eyes and my eyes were filled
with scar tissue and I didn’t see too well. So I hate spray
cans and if Mom sprays anything I still run to the far side of the
yard and sometimes I still poop myself. Mom says I will probably
never get over it, but that she loves me all the same. I’m
glad, because I sure do love her a lot. And I love my new life and
my new home.
I
know I will never leave my new home. They love me here and I have
doggy friends (I call them my family) and together we are Mom and
Dad’s furry kidz, as they call us. They give us lots of food,
toys, chews, attention and best of all…love.
 There
is hope for all those dogs left on chains, beaten, forgotten and
hungry. You are their hope. I am proof of that. Once I lived on
a chain, was beaten and starved. I once weighed a mere 40 lbs. Now,
I weigh a healthy 110 lbs. Perfect for my bone structure and size.
Once I was unloved and unloving to humans, but I learned that good
things can come from humans and most humans loves us dogs. Those
that don't, those that do mean and evil things to us, are themselves
evil. I didn’t do anything to deserve the treatment I got in
my previous life, I just wanted to be someone’s best friend.
Please,
for me, Tundra Alexander, unchain your dog, convince your neighbor
to unchain their dog, bring them in the house and let them be your
best friend. That’s all they want. They deserve that and so
much more. Don’t’ make them have to escape and run away,
so many don’t and die on those chains. I was lucky, I know
that and I just want every other dog on a chain to be half as lucky
as I am.
Sincerely,
The Greatest Tundra Alexander
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