White Dog followed my look across the room and settled closer against me. "It IS kind of amazing, isn't it?"
She and I were looking at Quinn and YoYoMa, lying together on the cool tiles of the hearth. They were both napping, it wasn't anything special...and yet the sight (and every moment like it) made me do a little victory dance in my head and tear up.
YoYoMa first came to us as Quinn was developing his seizures and becoming shy(er) and easily spooked. Yo was from from horrible abuse, blind, and just days past being an unneutered stud dog; he came in feeling a need to prove his place in the pack. So he challenged the house Alpha male, Quinn, and The Other White Dog never even put up a fight as Yet Another White Dog ripped open his shoulder causing an infection and stitches.
Many gently tried to tell me that maybe YoYoMa "wasn't a good fit" and would need to be rehomed. Others painted a future where the best we could hope for was perpetually keeping the two boys separated. We were filled with horror stories of dog fights that proved fatal. Even our beloved Dr. Julia cautioned me to remember what was best for Quinn and that I should NEVER trust them enough to leave the two together unattended.
It has been a journey of finding understanding and common ground. Both boys have learned the language of the other: the manic fear and easily startled blindness. They have been incredible in each of their abilities to process, comprehend, and adapt to a complex social issue. I have been a guide and a facilitator (as have White Dog and their sisters) but the change has been theirs. There has never been another fight; boundaries are still sometimes crossed and warning growls issued. But both Quinn and YoYoMa know there is no loss of status in walking away or in forgiveness.
So every time I see my boys at peace and in solidarity I want to shout to all those naysayers, "I KNEW it! I knew they could make it work. I am so glad we didn't give up." Time and faith and love...it works every time.