Dog Named Leaf Read Online Free PDF Page B

resumed.
    “Leaf, what’s wrong, baby?” Linda asked.
    Five more minutes of shrieking. Then Leaf became quiet. We almost fell asleep when Leaf started yowling as if announcing the end of the world. I moved his dog bed out of the crate and placed it closer to our bed.
    “He might need to go outside,” I told Linda after he howled again. I put on my clothes and fastened Leaf’s leash to his collar. We trekked out the front door for a midnight stroll. He walked around in circles in the front yard. We hadn’t yet established a place for him to go regularly in the backyard. No scents were sweet enough to signal his spot. Finally he peed a little. Could sleep be in sight?
    I trundled him back indoors. He sniffed the carpet. Before I could stop him, he lifted his leg and left his mark. He
did
have to go after all.
    Linda got up and found the pet-stain remover we’d bought that day. She soaked the wet spot with the solution. Then she sat on the living room floor and sighed.
    Since we couldn’t sleep, we discussed our options. We resolved to return to the pet-supply store and find an herbal remedy that could help to calm our dog’s nerves. Throughout the first night I repeatedly took Leaf outside for bathroom breaks. He didn’t need to go anymore. Why would he? Our living room had served as his urinal.
    By morning two sleep-deprived new dog parents faced each other over a cup of strong coffee. Their rescued cocker spaniel snored quietly outside his dog crate.

C HAPTER F OUR
Leaf’s Secrets
    I HOPED THAT WE’D EVENTUALLY DISCOVER ENOUGH CLUES TO L EAF’S secret past for us to be able to help him heal. As I soon discovered, he brought many scars with him from his previous life. Severe separation anxiety made it difficult to ever let him be by himself, even in a room in our house. His unfamiliarity with living indoors destroyed our carpet. Due to his strong chase instinct, he terrorized our cats. Leaf lurched at other dogs, rabbits, and squirrels whenever we walked him around the neighborhood, which meant sore shoulders and knees for us.
    I looked to veterinarians, trainers, and animal-loving friends for help. Because animal communicators had helped us with our pets in the past, I was grateful when one of them offered to listen to Leaf telepathically.
    Marcia Wilson, a California woman who had served as a judge in our Angel Animals story contests, offered to tune in to our troubled boy. On a cold November day, Linda, Leaf, and I huddled together in a quiet bedroom to have a conversation with Marcia by phone. She quickly told us, “This is different than my sessions with other dogs. Leaf is very quiet. Too quiet. He won’t talk to me.”
    What could we do? Although each person we consulted had given important pieces to the puzzle that was Leaf, no one had been able to adequately advise us on how to make him more comfortable or less anxious. Our sleepless nights were blending into stress-filled days as we tried to cope with all of this dog’s erratic behaviors and fears.
    Marcia tried to reassure Leaf. “All your new mom and dad want to do is to make life better for you.” Then she asked him what had happened at the shelter. His answer would make us understand the depth and source of his suffering.
    “I got left.”
    When Marcia told us what Leaf had communicated to her, he lowered his head. His body slumped to the floor. Marcia, who couldn’t see Leaf’s body language, said, “He feels so much shame. He doesn’t know what he did wrong.”
    Even though Linda and I reassured him that this was his forever home, would Leaf still wonder if he would ever be left again? How long would it take before he believed that no matter how often we corrected him or gave him time-outs in his comfortable crate, he was home? How much praise and affection would he require to bolster his self-esteem? Could he believe that we’d never stop loving him?
    After making a revelation that obviously destroyed what little self-confidence he