Ellie’s whole past is a mystery to us, like any adopted shelter dog. We got glimpse of it here and there, like her mysterious companionship with kayotes, her fears of certain men and cigarette smokers, and a few tidbits from her rescuers about the town she was picked up in.
We knew she had a microchip. It’s taken us awhile to get her information from it, and we had to get her rescanned. When was rescued, the rescue called the person who had her microchipped and told them they found his dog. His reply was, “You mean Black Dog? I don’t want her.”
My sympathies went out to her. Unwanted is something no one wants to be. Ellie is endearing at first, she gives out hugs and shakes pas, but she’s an independent dog a lot of the time. She’s the opposite of Sienna, who demands and insists upon loads of attention. Ellie likes to hang out under the bed or on top of the bed a lot, and she may lie by my side, but if I notice her there or talk too much to her, she bolts. She likes to remain in the shadows, at least when she’s not chasing squirrels.
Back to the name. Her shelter that the rescue got her from called her Sheba. She had no response to that name. She had been named Ellie Mae by the rescue, wisely so because it’s a cute name and I think names do catch people’s eyes when they surf adoption sites like Petfinder.
What’s in a name for a dog? It’s the connection you have with them. It’s the one thing you say that is just for them. It tells them that they are wanted, called for, desired, and you need their attention. With Sienna, she didn’t know her other name (dare I utter it…Tagra…ick!), so she was happy for the fresh start. Same with the kitties. I never knew Zuki’s other name, if he had one, and it remains a mystery. He listened to the name Zuki, so it wasn’t a big deal. But sometimes I’d try to call him other things, thinking one day I’d hit on his old name.
Today I received the letter from the microchip company. It had Ellie’s original name on it, “Daisey”. At first, I laughed. I called Chris to tell him. Then I read further and realized her birthday was listed as her being 10 years old. My first instinct was confusion, because we assumed she was very young, at the most 5 years old. Her microchip was only purchased in 2009 so this is likely still be a mistake.
After registering her name and age change with the company, I hung up the phone. Both dogs were upstairs, doing their own thing. I decided to call out, “Daisey”. I heard the footsteps down the stairs, fully expecting it to be Sienna, who comes to pretty much any name we shout out in a doggie-loving voice, perhaps due to her being overnicknamed. But it was Ellie. Tears fell out of my eyes and I ran to embrace her. With that name, I was able to give her some link to her past. I called her Daisey a few more times and she still responded. I am sad because obviously at some point she did bond enough with someone who called her Daisey, and that person is no longer in her life. I doubt it was the cruel man who said he didn’t want her. Perhaps it was a shelter worker. I don’t know who, but it gave me hope that at some point before us she’d known love.
Ellie will still be Ellie to us. But to someone out there, if you are reading, your Daisey is loved.