Webster

About Webster

On May 8, 1999, Webster walked into our home and hearts. He had been surrendered to rescue due to chronic health challenges. His throat, undercarriage, and the backs of his thighs were bald and embellished with scabs and oozing sores. His ears were congested, their offensive odour competing with the stench emanating from his skin. Our first trip to the vet was enlightening. Webster had skin and ear infections, was hosting a colony of parasites, was cryptorchid, and likely had allergies. We initiated a stringent regime of antibiotics, steroids, supplements, dewormers, medicated baths, ear rinses, and drops. I left the vet that day with a naive sense of optimism; how hard could it be to fix an itchy, bald butt, one-nut pup?

During Webster’s first summer with us, we had the opportunity to rescue five orphaned kittens. They were three weeks old, and Webster immediately fell in love with them. It was heart-warming to watch 150 pounds playing gently with two pounds. It wasn’t uncommon to find Webster strutting about with a kitten or two hanging on for dear life. He would scoop wayward kitties out of his food bowl, carefully placing the infants out of harm’s way before resuming his meal. Each night his newborn charges would line up in a row, nuzzling into the fur on his tail, rooting for non-existent teats. Webster was an exemplary surrogate father, and the kittens adored him.

Fifteen months after Webster’s arrival, we adopted 11-month-old Joey. I had hoped the two would become fast friends, but that wasn’t the case. Joey was a hellion, and Webster had little tolerance for his antics. Demanding peace and order within his home, Webster took it upon himself to teach Joey what was acceptable and what was not. Webster would correct Joey with lightning speed, and Joey responded. It was fascinating to watch the two interact. Joey’s reverence for Webster grew as each day passed, as did Webster’s tolerance for Joe. Webster was instrumental in taming Joey, and the two became steadfast companions over time.

At four years of age, Webster experienced sudden onset blindness. Due to an enlarged heart and murmur, he was not a candidate for surgery. To complicate matters, Webster had been trained with hand signals. When he lost his vision, I lost my method of communication. In the following weeks, I re-taught Webster his basic commands using voice and touch, and Webster learned to trust me implicitly. Our bond grew stronger, as did our mutual trust and respect.

Webster passed away on September 3, 2003, just shy of his seventh birthday. Through all of his hardships, his temperament never wavered for one moment. We often tell people that Webster was a “rescue”, but what we fail to explain is that he was the one who rescued us. Webster changed us, made us better humans, and brought our family closer together. Webster was our guardian. I am confident he would’ve given his life without hesitation to save his family. He gave us more than we ever could’ve given in return. It was an honour to be in his presence and a privilege to care for him.