From Fearful Abandoned Pup to Loving Fur Son

Harvey was an eccentric old man in a dog’s body. He loved his comforts and adored his human Mumma. This is going to be a long one, so if you’re interested, grab a cuppa first.

I’m writing in such detail to preserve the memories and encourage others not to give up on a dog or any animal they foster or adopt. Time and love can heal deep trauma; it truly can.

The Phone Call About a Dog I Just Met

I first met Harvey at the pound on 14 January 2012 while photographing the dogs and cats there. Every time I tried to pat him, he darted away. He was so scared it broke my heart.

Later, I received a call from Maggie’s Rescue telling me that if they didn’t take Harvey, the pound was going to euthanise him as he was too timid to be adopted. I picked him up the following week, which was Saturday, 21 January 2012, to foster him. I still remember holding him in my arms for the first time as his microchip was inserted into the scruff of his neck. He didn’t flinch, he just stayed perfectly still.

First Traumatic Days Out of the Pound

On the first night home, he wouldn’t come near us. He chose to spend the night in the courtyard. I placed a soft bed outside the back door where he slept.

The next day, we took him to the park in the car with our other dogs – Ruby, Daisy and Luna. They all jumped out as usual and ran across the canal bridge and into the park. It was our daily routine, and they loved that park.

After getting out of the car, I gently placed Harvey on the ground, but he immediately freaked out and backed up frantically, trying to escape the two collars I had on him with a lead attached to each collar.

My first reaction was to pick him up, which I did, but he reacted in fear and bit me quite severely. It was so sudden and almost like a snake would strike – about three times, he struck me with his ivory choppers.

I screamed out to Neal, who was on the other side of the canal in the park with our dogs. He ran back, and when he saw dark blood pouring down my arms, he thought I’d been stabbed and was looking around for the attacker. I held Harvey to the ground, trying to keep him from escaping. He was terrified, and it was utterly heartbreaking to see his fear as he scampered under the car to hide.

Neal managed to extract him from underneath the car, and got him back into the car, along with our other dogs, and we went home for first aid. I went to the local after-hours GP clinic for a Tetanus shot, and my bites healed without any issues. They were puncture wounds from his choppy canines.

Despite what happened, I was never going to give up on him. With time and patience, he grew braver each day. If you want to know how I desensitised him, please message me, it was a slow process well worth the journey. I could talk about it here, but it would make this story longer. I recovered, and our relationship grew incredibly strong, and he became a permanent and integral part of our family. He was the most loving and affectionate little dog. He wouldn’t go anywhere without me.

JUST AS LIFE BEGAN TO NORMALISE, THIS HAPPENED

Having four dogs in the family now, and living in a teeny tiny house in Kogarah, we had some challenges, specifically our not-so-nice neighbours.

After a complaint was made to the council about our dogs barking in early 2012, not long after Harvey arrived, we had to establish a new routine. I walked the four dogs early each morning, off-leash at the local soccer fields, to get their energy exerted, and then they spent every weekday inside, with dog music playing on repeat and shuffle all day. Bradley Joseph was their favourite composer. This became our norm while we both went out to work each day for the next five years. We still play that wonderful music today when we leave our dogs home alone.

When this noise-complaining first happened, I asked a friend if Harvey could spend the next day with her while I went to work. We planned to meet that afternoon at the park so I could collect Harvey and bring him home with our other three. As I was driving there, I received that dreaded phone call. Harvey had escaped and was missing somewhere in St. Peter’s, a very congested inner-west suburb, with the six-lane Princes Highway running through it, amongst other busy roads frequented by big trucks.

I was frantic. When I arrived, she explained that she was about to put him in her car to meet us, but he didn’t have a leash on, and he bolted. We searched. She printed posters, which we put up everywhere as we walked the streets.

I called Neal, and he came and collected our other three dogs, taking them home. This was probably around 3 pm in March, so we still had light, and we spent the next few hours searching, calling his name, but to no avail.

As the sun began to set, fear set in even more. Where was he, and how would we ever find him? We posted on Facebook and continued to search.

When the sun had set, it was just me searching. I jumped into my car and drove to Sydney Park to check if he was in the car park. He wasn’t.

On the way back to St. Peter’s, a miracle happened. As I drove south on Princes Highway, I just happened to turn my head and look to my right. There, I saw a small light-coloured dog trotting down Reilly Lane toward the highway. It was Harvey!

But I was on the highway, and I couldn’t stop. I turned right at Railway Road, then right at Henry Street, and right at Reilly Lane. I drove to the end of Reilly Lane, stopped the car, and jumped out. I saw a flash as Harvey ran across the six lanes of the highway and was just missed by a car heading down the middle lane, travelling south. I saw Harvey scoot his butt in as he avoided the car by a split second. I ran to the curb, and he was gone from my sight.

A guy was waiting at the bus stop just up from the corner, and he yelled out to me, “He’s over there!” pointing towards the Repco car park. Thankfully, as it was now about 8 pm, the highway was relatively quiet, and I raced across and ran into the car park.

I could see Harvey towards the back of the car park near Repco, so I fell to my knees and called out to him. He circled me from a distance, and then it clicked, he realised it was me. He bounded towards me and into my arms as I sat there on the ground. His ‘bloomers’ were wet from when he would have peed himself as the car just missed him.

I held him in my arms and sobbed, thanking the universe. When I gathered myself and my thoughts, I rang Neal with the wonderful news, then I carried Harvey back across the highway to my abandoned car in the laneway.

I still remember driving around afterwards, with Harvey beside me in the front seat, to take down the posters. There was one outside a takeaway on Gleeson Avenue, and I clearly remember proudly telling the guy standing out front, “I found him!” and pointed to Harvey sitting in the front seat of my car.

We made it safely home and reunited Harvey with Neal, Daisy, Luna, and Ruby. It was such a traumatic and emotional experience. That day cemented our relationship and our bond forever.

Harvey thrived in the company of his siblings but grieved deeply when we lost Ruby, our 13-year-old Border Collie to cancer in 2014.

A MYSTERY ILLNESS

In mid-2018, Harvey became very sick, and we made many visits to my local vet, who couldn’t work out what was wrong with him but treated the symptoms and administered fluids, antibiotics and pain relief. Harvey wouldn’t eat and was losing weight rapidly.

It had become critical, so we took him to the emergency veterinary hospital at Sydney University. After 3 days there, he was finally diagnosed with Immune-Mediated Polyarthritis (IMPA), and it took him six months to recover. This resulted in a weakened immune system, and he became our fragile little boy. I believe this was the result of the kennel cough vaccination he was injected with a few days before he fell ill. His fur never grew back at the injection site on his back, and the skin turned permanently black.

FARM LIFE

When we relocated from Sydney to our farm in Wootton in 2019, he loved barking at the ducks and chickens, but miraculously, he learned to live with them and would hang out with them in the garden. Most of all, he loved all of us, his family.

Harvey had a repertoire of nicknames – Chops, Mr. Chops, Chol Chols, Cholly Chopper, The Harvmeister, Choppies and Chollops. He head tilted when I sang his name in a sing-song way, which was legendary. I serenaded him with songs, often crafting my lyrics to suit the moment.

He was my muse for many blog challenges during the Covid years. I have thousands and thousands of photos of my Choppies.

Saying Goodbye

In November 2023, Harvey’s health began to decline. He relapsed with IMPA, a battle he had courageously fought since 2018. Despite the challenges, he spent over five wonderful years, mostly here on the farm, living his best life.

On Sunday, 21st January 2024, Harvey’s health declined rapidly. It was a heatwave weekend, and he wasn’t right. Without going into all the details of that final weekend, I had to make the heart-wrenching decision to set him free. It was one of the most challenging moments of my life, but it was the right choice for him. He passed peacefully, surrounded by nature and my arms as I lay beside him, on the shore of Wallis Lake, with the breeze whistling through the casuarinas along the shoreline, in the caring hands of our vet, Dr Amanda from Windan’Sea Vet Hospital. Mandy went above and beyond for Harvey, especially in his final months.

Despite all we did, it became clear that it was his time. We suspect he may have had a mass, too, and just managed to keep it off the radar, as up until that final weekend, he still had a voracious appetite.

A Legacy of Love

Harvey and I shared an incredible bond over our 12 years. His quirkiness and shyness were endearing, and so began our remarkable journey through life together.

Harvey was my constant shadow, a creeper in the grass, sometimes underfoot, sometimes lurking, always there.

His quirks and unique personality made him my handsome muse, even when he wasn’t the most willing model.

Our adventures were filled with challenges, from that biting incident when he first came home to his amusing playfights with Neal.

He adored and was adored by his furry siblings over the years – Ruby, Daisy, Luna, and his special bond with Henry in recent times.

As I reflect on the joy and many stories Harvey brought into my life, this blog post has been a long time in the making, but it is appropriate to publish it on the first anniversary of his passing.

Rest in peace, my beautiful Harvey. You will forever be in our hearts. 🐾💕