We knew adopting another sheltie from the rescue shelter would be challenging, but Basil was scared of everything: me, my husband, John, and our sheltie Bonnie. The slightest noise or movement sent Basil running for cover. He refused to walk on a leash.
“So much for those fun family walks we planned,” I said to John one evening as I tried to hook on Basil’s collar. Basil flipped onto his back, tummy up.
“It’s sad,” John said. “Basil’s missing out on so much just because he’s afraid.” An eight-week class with a pet-behavior specialist was no help. Lord, how can we comfort Basil?
By January I’d just about given up. I approached Basil in the snowy backyard with a leash. He rolled onto his back as usual. I hooked the leash onto his collar anyway. “Let’s take a walk,” I said to Basil softly. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
A chilly breeze ruffled through Basil’s fur. Basil got up. “That a boy!” I led him around the yard on his leash, the wind blowing in his hair as if blowing his fears away. Soon after that we walked the neighborhood—as a family.
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