Why I Adopted a Senior Dog

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When I was a sophomore in college, my family adopted a senior beagle named Abby. She was eight years old, coming after the abrupt passing of one of our other dogs to cancer. She was an owner surrender at the nearby shelter, given up by someone who no longer could care for her. As I quickly fell in love with Abby, I couldn’t understand why anyone would ever part with her.

Despite being a senior dog, Abby was full of energy and spirit. She gave our other aging dog, Jed, a run for his money, often snatching any dropped food before he could blink. She loved putting her front paws on our laps at dinner, with her big pancake-shaped ears sticking out over the edge of the table. When she got excited, she’d “smile”, with her mouth open in a circle like the “😮” emoji. 

Abby was adopted in 2014 at age 8.

Abby’s “smile”.

Unfortunately, Abby passed away a few months after her adoption. To this day, we can only guess it was a heart attack, as she had passed suddenly in her sleep when everyone was gone at work. The loss devastated me; I was away at college and felt I had not gotten enough time with her. The first time I visited home after her passing, I got out of the car and immediately went to where she was buried in the yard. Jed knowingly followed me when I sat in the grass to cry. In the few months she was with us, she left a mark on my heart that would last a lifetime.

Abby was the first time I had learned about senior dogs in the shelter system. I couldn’t comprehend someone leaving a dog behind after many years of companionship – especially when the dogs needed care most. It made me sick thinking about all the other dogs that got “too old” for their owners, or all of the sudden losing their homes due to family changes, moving, or expensive health needs. Abby opened my eyes to the plight of senior shelter dogs, and it continued to weigh on me. I knew I had to adopt a senior myself one day, but with how sudden Abby’s passing was, I wasn’t sure I would be ready for that type of loss again.

I was finally ready to adopt my first dog a couple of years after I graduated college. My partner and I were adopting together, and we had fairly open requirements for the dog we were looking for. Because we were more focused on temperament, things like breed, gender, and age were the least of our worries. As we were looking, I kept thinking about the seniors. But, something kept holding me back. I felt horrible about it; I wanted to give a senior a home so badly. Seeing their sad, grey faces tore me apart, but for some reason, I just didn’t feel ready. I knew I would get very attached to my first dog (and boy, was I right). The “first dog” requires a lot of learning, navigating, and ups and downs – from training, to health and wellness, and relationship building. I felt like I had a lot of knowledge to acquire first, as well as building the emotional strength that is required for caring for a senior dog.

 

Jed (Left) and Abby (Right)

 

I, obviously, do not regret adopting our American Foxhound mix, Jonathan – who was 1.5 years old at the time. He was definitely meant to be ours, and I believe he is my soul dog. I had so much to learn as a first-time dog parent, and I am glad I was able to learn all of it without having to worry about senior dog ailments and health. I had to be honest with myself during the adoption process and take a hard look at what dog I could handle physically, financially, and emotionally, while considering my past experience with dogs. Jonathan ended up being the perfect first dog.

Jonathan was adopted in October 2019. We can fast forward through 2020. The pandemic allowed for plenty of self-reflection. With a combination of raising my first dog and a lot of time alone with my thoughts, I had realized I needed to make a shift in my life. I wanted to do more to help animals and was thankfully able to make it happen. Both my day job and “side hustle” involved dogs in a big way, and I was surrounded by people who felt the same way.

Getting involved in “dogstagram” introduced me to amazing people who foster and volunteer with rescue organizations – many of them exclusively fostering or adopting senior dogs. As I got to know some of them through posts and DMs, I learned so much about the senior dog journey. I was eager to learn more, as I wanted to find the best way to approach life with a senior dog. This is where I really learned about the most fulfilling part about adopting seniors: giving them the best remaining years of their lives. It was a discussion with a friend whose senior passed away that really helped my perspective shift. Adopting an older dog doesn’t have to be about the looming sadness of loss, but the joy of allowing these dogs to know true love and care in their golden years. 


We weren’t anticipating a second dog in our household for a few years, but the universe decided otherwise. Leading up to July 2021, there were “signs” that revealed a senior dog would come into our lives. I was working on a project at my new job that was all about dogs that were adopted at an older age. My manager had recently adopted a senior and I was invested in their journey. Podcast episodes and content about senior dogs kept popping up on my feed. I couldn’t get senior dogs off my mind.

My Instagram feed is heavily inundated with adoptable dogs. I try to share as many as I can with sadness that the dog wouldn’t be ours. But, one day while scrolling, I was stopped in my tracks by a particular dog: Isaiah, a 10 year old Plott hound.

Isaiah was underweight, clearly lacking the strength to keep his arthritic back legs upright. His greying muzzle was a stark white contrast to his dark brown brindle coat. His amber eyes pierced straight through my heart, and I needed to know more. He was described as “sweet”, “resilient”, and “grateful”, taking surprisingly well to the city as a transplant from rural Tennessee. The video attached to his post showed him gently greeting a small chihuahua, reflecting his gentle and empathetic demeanor that reminded me so much of Jonathan. 

Isaiah’s post struck me and I was left thinking about him for days. I was up at night thinking about that poor old man, lost and confused in a completely new environment after a decade of being nothing but a hunting dog. Rehabilitating hound dogs that were ex-hunters is my speciality: that’s what Jonathan was, as well as many of my family dogs. Acclimating Jonathan to New York City from the South was still fresh in my mind, and I felt like my partner and I had the experience and patience to do it again. Not many people in New York City have the capacity to care for a scent hound, let alone a senior that is set in his ways. I knew we could be the ones to give him a chance.

The timeline between seeing Isaiah’s post for the first time and bringing him home was a fast one: barely two weeks. It happened very quickly, but I can imagine the rescue was excited that there was interest for this dog that frankly was not the most “adoptable.” Hounds and seniors each have their own separate struggles getting adopted, so Isaiah had the odds stacked against him. But for us, he was the perfect match. His background and his quirks were something we were equipped for, and I was finally ready to give a senior dog a home.


Isaiah became “Ike”, and we brought him home on July 23, 2021. We hit the ground running to get him back to health. He was at least ten pounds underweight, with all sorts of other ailments plaguing him due to years of neglect. He has acclimated well with the help of his new little brother, Jonathan, who helps him feel more comfortable every day. 

Ike quickly surprised us with his energy and spunk. He could walk for hours on end, and has been known to  jump head-first into bushes to chase cats. When I reached out to the shelter he was originally surrendered to, they told me that a hunter dropped him off and stated he was “too old to keep up with the pack.” Within a week of Ike being home, we had no idea how this could be true, as he can run laps around Jonathan. I thought I was adopting a chill old dog that would sleep all day... but then I remembered he’s a hound.

Rehabilitating Ike has been a lot of work – both in nursing him to health and helping him adjust to New York City. On top of a serious weight-gain diet, Ike has run into food intolerances and allergies, ear infections, dental disease, a nasty gum infection, and a stubborn UTI that had him peeing every two hours. He’s still working through ailments, understandably so as he had minimal healthcare for a decade. He’s in a much better place than he was in July, having gained over 10lbs and no longer having accidents inside. The vet bills and extra food have proven costly, but I am very grateful we have the means to take care of him, especially since my current job provides pet health care coverage. When the rescue called Ike “resilient”, they were spot on.

One of the most exciting and rewarding parts of adopting Ike is watching him learn that people can be good. He didn’t know his name, how to sit on command, or how to coexist with a human when he wasn’t hunting. He had behaviors, such as peeing indoors and wanting to spend the day in his crate, that led us to realize he was kept in an outdoor kennel his whole life. Two months in, Ike learned how to “sit” and “shake”, and finally began to look at us when we said his name. Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks.

I think Ike knows he’s home now. He loves to play chase with Jonathan and go on walks to the pet supply store. We are coming up on four months with him, and I am making sure I cherish every moment. He is allegedly turning 11 in December, and while we will never know how much time left we have with him – I want it to be the happiest time of his life. I literally cheer him on with every accomplishment he has, no matter how seemingly small, because I know how huge it really is. I always sneak him that extra treat, or let him lick the empty container of cream cheese. Sometimes in the morning, he jumps into bed to wake me promptly at 7am for a walk. If I’m lucky, he’ll roll over for a bit for a belly rub, and I try to cherish those rare cuddles as long as I can.

It’s crazy to think that ten years ago, Ike was out in the world existing on the same plane as me. When Abby the beagle first came home, a much younger Ike was somewhere in Tennessee with a different name, not knowing that his life would be turned upside down years later. When Abby passed, she showed me the love and gratitude that those abandoned grey-muzzled dogs have. At the time, I had no idea there was a dog already out there that would become my sweet old man. □

 

Want to hear more about Ike? Check out our two-part interview on With a Dog Podcast!

 
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