Just Josh

By Moira Rutherford

Just Josh is a wonderful narrative of how hard it is for every unwanted animal (in this case a dog) to find a forever home. Written as if by Josh himself, the author brings him into your heart and mind in such a way that it is almost impossible to not read in just one or two sittings. The book has happy, sad and funny moments but the overriding feel is one of positivity; no matter what life throws at you, staying positive and having hope are life's strongest supports, whether canine or human.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781326995782

Book preview

Just Josh

Just Josh

by

Moira Rutherford

Copyright

© Moira Rutherford 2017 All rights reserved.

ISBN #: 978-1-326-99578-2

This book may not be reproduced in any means without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.

Published by Moira Rutherford/Karyn Rutherford

Distributed by Lulu.com

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my wonderful daughter, Karyn, who was constant in her patience, support, conviction and expertise during its production.

The manuscript, without a doubt, would not have reached completion without her participation.

Acknowledgement

To all of those who followed, supported and loved Just Josh Confidential, friends, sponsors, critics and advice givers: I beg your indulgence for attributing this manuscript to Josh who played a huge role in our lives from 2015-2016. Without him there would not be a narrative.

However, Josh cannot take the credit for the instigation of its writing. I have all of you, his fans, who encouraged me to tell his story, inspired me and who gave me the confidence to compile the tale of his life. Your positive messages and feedback spurred me on to create the book.

Beppie, a wonderful Dutch lady, was my mainstay and raised my spirits when all seemed hopeless. She and her family made completion of the book possible: Josh and I owe them a huge debt of gratitude.

His life style changes could not have happened without the help of Julie, who volunteered to assist in his cause and pleaded for funds. Thank you to those of you who so willingly robbed your piggy banks in response to her pleas.

Your messages, especially from those that became regular contributors to his blogs, were a source of pleasure and humour. You took Josh into your hearts and worried about his future as much as I did. We were united in our concern and love for him; you were always sure that we would achieve our goal.

A mention must be given to Richard and Maria who fostered him with love and had immense patience during a difficult time in his life. He loved being with them.

A special thank you goes to Scotti and Scooter, her dog, who made Josh’s few days with her enjoyable and happy, paving the way for the changes that lay ahead.

Also, my gratitude to those involved in the bureaucracy, paperwork and planning; an enormous job essential to facilitating his journey.

My thanks to Hasan, his vet, for the care given to Josh to help him survive.

I must also bow my head in shame at my somewhat feeble attempts at poetry and especially my rapping song.

I hope you enjoy reading his story as much as I have in creating it for you.

Moira

Foreword

In almost all countries of the world, especially in Eastern Europe, India, Mexico and America, street dogs are a huge problem. Holland appears to be the only nation that does not have any street dogs due to their stringent laws relating to the purchase of dogs.

The issue of unwanted animals has many causes such as:

Large populations of uncontrolled breeding stray dogs;

Owned dogs having been abandoned or dumped by irresponsible owners or the death of an owner;

Lack of education about and funding for trap, neuter and return programmes

Turkey has its own street dog problem, with animals starving and suffering from disease, malnutrition and harsh conditions, both summer and winter! There are many organisations, which have been set up - mostly by Turkish people but also by foreigners - to try to reduce the population and to avoid poisoning and shooting of these unfortunate creatures. Education, especially of the younger generation in schools, and posters are helping to get the message circulated. Organisations in Kas (KAFC) and Kalkan (KAPSA) have been very successful but have a long way to go before there is an end to unwanted puppies and dogs. They not only have a programme to neuter dogs and cats and keep them healthy and fed in the wintertime, but also have a good success rate in finding safe homes for the animals.

For further information on these charities:

KAPSA – http://www.kapsaonline.com

KAFC - http://www.kasanimalfriendscharity.com

Let’s Start at the Very Beginning

My name is Josh. I answered to it during my time as a homeless dog.

This will be the hardest chapter of my story because it is difficult for a little puppy to recount his first few weeks of life. I think my mother was a great dog who loved and protected her family, but because she lived in a village, she wasn't neutered.  I possibly wasn't from a first, second or even third litter. I don’t know.

The things I do remember are probably the same for every little scrap of fur who cuddles into their mama - just sleeping and feeding. Dreaming of nothing because little dogs know only the fundamentals of life and not its ups and downs.

It is good that I did not have knowledge of my future or I may have just given up there and then and never have experienced the joy of becoming an owned dog.

Now that I understand more, I can elaborate a little but it may be only a supposition on my part.

What I do remember was the wonderful feeling of love I felt when I was with my mother during that short time. She would let me drink her sweet, warm milk - it was very reassuring. Her tongue was long and strong when she washed me and pushed me over with her wet nose to wash my belly. They were enjoyable times. Even now my doggy heart aches for the selfless attention that only a mother can give.

The memories were good and comforting; nuzzling her body was the only thing in the world for me at that time. Drinking nourishing milk when I was awake and being groomed gently by my loving mother. Feeling safe and protected when I was sleeping and dreaming puppy dreams. I knew nothing of the difficulty she had to find scraps of food in order to keep herself healthy and be able to feed me.

I am sure she, like all mothers, wanted only the best for me. I think she would have hidden me somewhere if she had known what was about to happen.

People in Turkey, as a rule, don’t have spare money to feed cats and dogs. Animals are given such things as bread and milk or scraps. It may be different in the cities but in villages life is hard and food scarce, unless it was grown at home. Therefore what there is available is of poor quality and not very nutritious and would still not be wasted on a dog.

There may have been siblings but I have no recollection of them, never having to push in or climb over a fat, wriggling little body.

No, I think I was an only pup!

The world was a dark safe place before my eyes opened or sounds registered. When I did begin to move around and investigate, my mother was quick to pick me up in her mouth and place me on the hard stone floor, which was our bed.

When strangers came around, she covered me with her body and warned me, with a little growl, to lie still. If bigger dogs appeared she bared her teeth to tell them to go away. I don’t remember her being chained. I hope she wasn’t, it isn’t much of a life for chained animals.

Those were the happiest of days and sometimes we would play and she would encourage me to bite her tail and ears in fun. I’d give a little bark to a passing chicken but my mother warned me that it was not a good thing to do. I wonder what would have happened if life hadn't changed so suddenly?

I like to think that she would have been very proud of her handsome young son. Teaching me dog behaviour, how to scare intruders and how, when I grew big and strong, our roles would change and then she would look to me for protection.

Alas that wasn't to be. My idyllic life came suddenly to a halt and even now I shudder at those few months when I first became a Kalkan street dog.

Don't get me wrong; there are worse places to be in Turkey if you are a dog alone on the streets. Kalkan had its own network of animal lovers who were there for every needy creature, be it a dog, cat, bird, tortoise or snake. Need I go on?

After three or four months, life changed for me in the worst way possible.

I found myself dumped on the busy D400 with very fast cars racing by. I wasn’t warned by anyone that this would happen. I didn't have time to even say goodbye or have a last drink of mama’s milk. I am sure she was just as shocked as me when I was taken. I believe this happens a great deal to village pups!

I will never ever forget the terror of finding myself alone, deserted and in unfamiliar surroundings. I couldn't fathom out why or what had I done to deserve this? It must have been our owners because mother was a guard dog and would never have let a stranger near me, let alone in the garden.

Rough hands had snatched me up from my darling mother, tucked me into their jacket and sped off on something that sounded like a huge animal and bounced around so much that I felt sick. Then I was on a cold, hard surface with strange smells looking frantically to the left and right hoping that mother would appear and carry me to safety.

I sniffed the air, hoping smells of her would tell me which way to go. Maybe she would appear soon and carry me home in her gentle mouth.

I am sure she would have if she had known where to look. The pain of losing me must have been as awful for her as my anguish was for me. Although it is possible that this had happened many times and like most dogs, she accepted it as her lot.

I didn’t know how to be safe and soon I strayed onto the road in a quest for my mama and familiar things. I was also very scared, cold, hungry and thirsty.

My thoughts were always what did I do wrong? Why didn't they want me? Am I unlovable? Does my mother know? Will she come and find me? Oh how I prayed for the latter to happen.

It wasn't long before one of those big angry, snarling creatures called cars hit me and I was bowled over into the gutter. The pain was horrible. I felt very sick and my leg was hanging at a strange angle! How long I lay there I don't know but when I struggled to my feet and dragged myself along I thought that I was doomed. I was utterly miserable.

Someone must have answered my prayers because soon a volunteer from the local charity, KAPSA (Kalkan Association for the Protection of Street Animals), came along, scooped me up and took me to the vet clinic.

When the clinic opened I was made comfortable and pain free until I was x-rayed by the vet. I thought that at least I was safe and that was a small comfort to this little mite.

My left leg was fractured so I had to have an operation to fix it. Afterwards I had to rest a little to give it time to mend. Meanwhile I was fed, watered, cleaned and protected from further harm. I was thankful for small mercies and for the love shown me.

A lovely dog called Pamuk reassured me every day until I began to think that maybe I would be OK. The volunteers called her nurse Pamuk. We dogs laughed about that because it seemed so funny.

When my leg started to heal Richard, a KAPSA volunteer, took me on gentle walks. He was so kind and didn't walk too quickly. Every day he came and took me out. I really began to look forward to our time together. He became my tall, strong hero.

As soon as I was well enough, I had to go back on the streets. I tried to look sad and appealing so that someone would take me home but they all had enough pups and adult dogs already. So out I went, barely old enough to fend for myself.

That wasn’t any fun at all. Where to find food? I hadn’t a clue! Water was a different story because that winter was so terribly wet: rain, rain, every day, and not just little showers. Torrents! Kalkan streets were like raging rivers. Heaven help any tiny pups or kittens. They must have been carried away down to the sea. It was the worst year to have to survive on the streets!

My coat was always very wet. I tried to lick it dry like mother used to but it was a losing battle. If the sun came out I followed the example of the bigger dogs and found a patch to sleep in, in a corner by myself so that I wasn’t nipped or bullied.

I hated it on the streets. There were so many dogs that were territorial and chased me off because I was a pup. I didn’t know to wag my tail. I just rolled over in submission and that seemed to make them worse...

It remained very hard to find sustenance, as I was still just a young dog and not streetwise. I knew nothing of begging or kind visitors. Locals who helped us were not available to me, as the village dogs had already staked their claim.

The children were very mean to me and chased me, hurling large boulders at me that really hurt when they reached their target. They called me names and laughed at me. Life was very miserable during that time. When I tried to make friends they screamed and were frightened. Some Turkish people are scared of dogs and sadly instil this fear into their children.

The streets were a mystery to me and I didn’t fare well. It was decided to take me into foster care. The place was rather homely and there were five other pups so when it was fine we played together. When it rained there was shelter so that was good. The lady of the house was a real animal lover, hence the numbers of cats and dogs. It taught me how to