changes, large and small

Working with the feral dogs is so rewarding because the changes you witness, and have been part of the process in bringing about, are tiny and monumental all at once. I mean, we love all the dogs, but the ferals offer us a precious opportunity to transform their lives from entirely fear-based, to ones based on trust.
Some milestones, from my view:
Rose is a smaller medium dog, very timid and shy; perhaps a little non-descript in some ways, could be the painfully shy wallflower whose presence does not even register on on your mind. Nothing flashy or flamboyant about her. Some months ago - perhaps Thanksgiving or Christmas, we had turkey - I decided to try and get her to hand feed. Until that point she would feed with you sitting a foot or two away, but anything closer would send her scurrying off behind her house. It took quite a few days. I would offer the food in my hand, she would come forward a step or two, then retreat. Each day I tried it again and again, although allowing her to eat from the bowl after she had made some attempts to overcome her fear. Little by little, her panic receded, until she began to eat from my hand.
Some weeks later I upped the ante, holding out my empty hand for her to touch with her nose, before she got the food in my other hand. The lesson was more quickly learned, this time, although she would still run back and forth between mouthfuls. Next, I began moving my free hand while she ate, which startled her every time, her eyes round and worried, ready to bolt, and again sometimes retreating. One time I managed to touch her ear, fleetingly.
Well, yesterday, I began with her ear and by the end of the feed, I was able to stroke her head down past her collar while she kept feeding. This was such a joyful moment for me; this is the first time she has been petted in over a year, perhaps much much longer, given we know nothing of these dog's histories.
I am so proud of her, because it is very hard to shed that deep-seated fear, and she tries every day, again and again. Today there was a lot of building commotion going on - backhoe, people - so even to have her feed from my hand was a miracle, as normally such a big change in her environment would send her hiding. The entire time, she was looking, listening, jumping back, coming forward - but although it took longer, she ate it all.
Timmy is another one making great progress. He is a striking black and white pit/dalmation mix, who has spent almost the entire year - day and night - hiding in his igloo; we would hand feed him in there, his brown eyes big and uncertain. Scars on his face suggest he may have been a bait dog used to train fighters: his fear of people and dogs is enormous. Well, some weeks ago, we began to leash walk him: took some chasing around his yard the first couple of times, but now much less so.
A couple of days ago, while handing out treats, he ran to the fence and took one from me - right out in the open, straight from my hand. And several times now, when he has seen me coming at dinner time , he has come outside of his own volition, to greet me. He then retreats to safety, but will now hand feed with his entire body, bar his back legs, out side his igloo - stretched out like a spring ready to recoil, yet mustering his confidence and trust in us.
These dogs are remarkable, I cannot do justice to the efforts they put in to overcome months - a lifetime - of terror, and learn to feel safe with us. I appreciate every moment, every change, every time they hesitate for one second less. We teach each other so much, this is definitely a reciprocal relationship of patience, trust and developing love.
On another note, Raven unexpectedly decided to leave here, so I will be the sole writer, at least for a while. Karen, who also lives here, and I are caring for the troops right now - such a rowdy, loving bunch they can be, en masse - and soon some familiar faces will probably be back here, to continue caring for Tara's Babies.