I began volunteering with Northeast Boston Terrier Rescue (NeBTR) after we adopted Muno, a dog who brought us joy as we grieved the loss of our Boxer, Sydney. I was so moved by the adoption experience that I volunteered to do transports and home checks.
One day I saw an email from the rescue asking for help springing Archie, a Boston who was being held at a county shelter 15 minutes from me. Without thinking, I replied that I would grab Archie and hold him until a foster family could be found.
Excitedly, I waited for my five-year-old son, Sean, to come home, and then we took off for the shelter with a leash and the crate. I told my husband I was picking up a dog just to get him out the shelter. “He’s not staying,” I said.
When Sean and I walked into the shelter, we were surprised by the excessive barking and awful smell, but that paled in comparison to the shock I felt when I saw Archie. He was huge! I’d never seen a Boston that big, but there he was – all 57 pounds of him.
My first thought was, “There must be some mistake.” Upon receiving confirmation that the dog was, indeed, Archie, my mind focused on logistics. There was no way he was fitting in our crate!
Sean and I gave Archie a quick pep talk and loaded him into the car. Once home, we set him up in the laundry room, and he seemed relieved to be out of the shelter. Archie’s paperwork stated that he was surrendered for financial reasons and that he was on medication for seizures. Around 8:00 that evening, we began learning about those seizures firsthand. It was a horrible sight: his legs paddling wildly; his mouth foaming heavily. I lay down on the floor next to him, petting him and talking to him until it was done. We were both exhausted afterward, but, luckily, the rest of the night went on without incident.
The next day was my first valuable lesson in fostering. Archie was soaking up the sunshine in the back yard while my husband and I worked in the front. Sean opened the back gate to come ask us a question, and he left the gate open just enough for Archie to wander out. My husband looked over and said, “Hi Archie. What are you doing?”
Archie looked back at him casually just before barreling down the street. My husband, my eight-year-old son, Ryan, and I went after him as he ran up and down the street. We thought we had him cornered in my neighbor’s back yard twice, but, as Ryan called it, he juked us like a football player.
After 20 tiring minutes, Archie still showed no sign of slowing down. Up and down the street he went. As my neighbor across the street enjoyed the show with his two-year-old daughter, my husband followed Archie on his Segway, while Ryan ran after him with a huge fishing net.
The hot pursuit finally ended when Archie crashed our neighbor’s graduation party. He ran up onto their enclosed deck and got himself cornered in the middle of the party. Ryan ran up the steps behind him and politely stated, “Excuse me. Sorry to crash your party. This is Archie. He’s new, and I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again. Enjoy your party!”
With that, Archie came home, drank some water, and took a long nap. I guess you can say that was the kickoff to his weight loss program! Looking back on it now, it was quite comical, but at the time my husband didn’t think so.
I took Archie to a local animal hospital that had been treating him since he was a puppy. They were well aware of his seizures, so we talked about medicine and the need for him to lose some weight. After a month, the medicine appeared to be working, and I thought we were on the right track, until he had another seizure that progressed into clusters. With the blessing of Sheryl and Victoria, NeBTR board members, we took Archie to the University of Pennsylvania (UPenn) vet hospital for further treatment. It was during that time that I realized Archie was staying with us. Despite his illness, he was kind and gentle, reminding me of our Sydney.
As the summer progressed, so did the duration and intensity of Archie’s seizures. Along with the seizures came more medication and more trips to the UPenn. Sheryl and Victoria remained steadfast and supportive, even when I was calling because I was having a breakdown. This dynamic duo gave me the strength to press on. The entire rescue along with the local vet was pulling for Archie, who was ultimately diagnosed with idiopathic epilepsy, a disorder with no cure. Control became the goal.
Between trips to the veterinary hospital, Archie spent that summer playing with Walter and Muno and hanging out by our pool. He even went with us on two trips to New Hampshire, where we visited my parents who live on a beautiful lake. He loved being in New Hampshire, which he showed by waking me up at 3 a.m. just to go outside and lingering at the top of the stairs leading to the lake just to sniff the air. In the evenings, he sat beside my dad and relaxed, took boat rides, and enjoyed an ice cream or two (everyone is allowed to cheat on their diets a little, right?).
Unfortunately, even the addition of a third medication was not enough to control Archie’s seizures, and he ultimately succumbed to them late one night. His poor body had taken a beating, and it was no way for a dog to live.
My husband and I debated about what to tell our sons. After the loss of Sydney, we thought another loss would devastate the boys. As usual, Sheryl had my back. She highly recommended we tell the boys the truth that Archie had passed on and not make up a story about him being adopted. She said it was a life lesson for the boys and advised that we talk about how we took him out of the shelter and gave him unconditional love. As she put it, “Tell your boys, that’s what you do, and that’s the kind of people you are.”
Yes, it’s the kind of people we are, and we would do it all over again. The boys we pained by the news, but in the end, Sheryl was right. And to remind us all of the rewards that come along with challenging but loving acts, in the hall of Berlin Community School sits a beautiful wall of volunteers, on which you will find a picture of Ryan and Sean with our beloved Archie.
Pamela Hess
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