We knew very little about Leah's former owner, except that he was an older man who lived alone and worked long hours. However, this would explain some of her behaviors that surfaced once she arrived in New Brunswick.

You have to wonder, what she thought of all the things that happened to her. First, her owner of eight years disappearing. Then being cramped in a small apartment with a baby and the young relatives who didn't want her. Then to be passed from car to car, volunteer to volunteer (and their dogs), on the trip north.

According to the wonderful people who were part of Leah's transport, she was well-behaved, and ate and slept on the furniture like any other dog, accepting whatever came her way. But there had to be a certain amount of confusion over all the changes.

The first thing we discovered when we pulled out of Calais, Maine was that we could have chosen a better day to travel. It was a desperate blizzard, with less than two car length visibility for the 60 miles to Saint John, N.B. The second thing we discovered, was that Leah is excessively agitated in a moving vehicle, barking and clamoring to get at cars or other objects that move. The many changes were no doubt part of her stress, but as I found over the next weeks, she really was sensitive to moving things coming at her while she was in the car.

After we arrived home, Leah drained the cats' water fountain, and then looked at the couch. It was already covered with a throw, ready for her arrival. It is likely that she slept on the furniture in her former home, with no human present for long hours. So she climbed up on one end of the couch and I on the other, and we both fell asleep.

Leah slept for much of the first three days. She would wake up when I asked her to go out, but she would not do anything. It was a full three weeks before I could convince her that she was allowed to go to the bathroom more than once a day. She didn't do anything for more than 24 hours after she arrived.

From the heat of Florida sand to the cold of Canadian snow, must have been quite a shock. She hit her first snow in Old Orchard Beach, Maine and was not impressed. Her feet were desperately cold and so was she, with a thin coat grown for a warmer climate. Our first doggy purchases were a set of nylon boots to protect her paw pads. The "coat" was a bit of a challenge. So she ended up with a jack shirt of mine, the arms cut off at the elbows. It made quite the stunning Canadian outfit, eh?

Thanks to a Gentle Leader calming cap, we were able to get in the car, without me coming home with a migraine. Leah established her rights to the end of the couch and her own pillow. And the bed? Well, where do you think she slept? She curled up on the end as if she was sneaking a forbidden pleasure.

One of the saddest things I discovered was that Leah didn't know how to be a dog. Or perhaps that should be, a dog that was loved. She had no idea what toys were for, no concept of playing, and would just look at a biscuit or treat. That was one deprivation she got over really fast! And while she does run and grab her soccer ball when she's excited, she still does not play for any length of time. But over the next weeks and months, she learned that she was permitted to bark, to be excited, and to vocalize her wants.

While she was not a timid dog, she was hesitant, and appeared to be afraid of men for the most part, particularly a tall man who plowed my driveway. She also cringed when you raised your voice, or as I discovered by accident, raised your hand with anything in it, such as a broom I had dropped outdoors.

The most difficult thing to deal with because I had no idea of its origin, and there was nothing that I could do about it, were her night terrors. It was a couple of evenings before this occurred for the first time, and literally had me bolting up in bed. Leah would wake up yelping, crying and in some instances, giving a half snap-snarl, even though she never offered to bite or showed aggression in the daytime. After one of these episodes she would tremble for some time. While she was supposed to sleep at the foot of the bed, the only occasions I gave in were after one of her nightmares, when she would crawl up and lay along my back, and I let her. Then she would stop shaking.

The nightmares continued for around five months. They gradually got better although she still showed evidence of anxiety, and on occasion has been known to dive under my desk or a chair, in fear of something that exists only in her mind.

Gradually she adjusted to living with cats, going outdoors when she needed to, and being able to cadge biscuits and snacks when she put on the sad dog act. She even adjusted to the cold and snow, although she will often do the foot lift dance when it goes below 0F.

In February she was joined by a second rescue Golden Retriever named Nikki. Both of them having grown old separately, they do not interact a great deal, but live in harmony with the rest of the household.

The story of Leah's rescue, and the amazing journey from being an unwanted old dog to one that was loved and cherished by strangers, was published in The Ultimate Dog Lover book from HCI publications. I hope that through that, her website, and her YouTube video, it will encourage more people to give an older dog, another chance at life.