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a wide berth…

Time was looming to expose Brin to the outside world and, although I was longing to show him around to explore, I also knew that this too would be one of his famous learning curves.

I had befriended a lady named Sue, who also cared for a dog from Afghanistan. This dog is named Kilo and was found just outside of Kabul and had also survived many awful experiences. Nowzad also brought her to the UK.

Sue had been my ‘rock’ for many months, especially when it was getting close to Brin coming home. She shared with me things that she had been through and supported me when I was feeling nervous about the future and living with him full time. She was, and still is, one of my closest friends and we have always worked hard together to promote the stories of so many dogs and cats that are waiting for the same chance as our two.

Sue told me that Kilo always taken out on two leads. These are powerful dogs who will react instinctually and by doing so the ground can literally disappear from under your feet. They are also canine Houdini’s, slipping out of collars as if coated in butter.

So, I heeded her warning and Brin was suitably decked out with collar and harness, two leads and one spare incase of the swift chomp action he executed so well.

I decided to take him to a small patch of land first.

Pevensey Castle has sloping grounds with pathways leading well away from the main drag. I felt that this would be a good place to start as it gave me areas to move to if Brin took a dislike to anyone, or their dog.

Things went well to begin with and Brin spent ages sniffing the grass and anything else that was in his path. My other three dogs have always been wonderful on walks and never, in all the years we have had them, has there ever been a fight or aggression shown towards people or animals.

Brin, it seemed, was going to be a very different kettle of fish.

This showed when he spied his first dog, way in distance.

I wasn’t fully prepared for the shear strength it would take to hold him back. He rose up into the air, growling and barking so loudly that everyone turned to look. Now I knew why two leads were needed! They were pulled so taut I really felt they would snap.

Brin, who had hardly made a sound in quarantine, and barked only occasionally at home, was now in full throttle. I held onto him with all my might and eventually he began to calm down. What I did notice was, however, while all the main action was going on up front that his tail was wagging as well. It was as though he was totally confused as to how to react to other dogs and that this was not aggression at all… but fear. Brin was actually frightened and this was his way of saying ‘back off’.

So, for the next few weeks I took him to a place that was often deserted in the winter months not only to allow him to get used to the lead but to gain the necessary strength so that when faced with such a situation again I would be ready…hopefully!

 

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patience and mud…

I began to feel my age. All 50 years of it!

Brin was rather like having a toddler in the house and he knew no bounds..or boundaries!

Sofas were leapt over, tables jumped on and the inevitable chewing of tv remotes and cordless phones were some of the never-ending lists of sampling by his exploring teeth.

Three stair gates were placed around the house as he took to ‘guarding’ the stairs if any members of the family, apart from me, tried to pass. We also had to partition the cat away from him as their first meeting did not bode well with huge staring eyes from both sides and the licking of lips from Brin.

We also had a gate on the kitchen door, giving him full access to the garden, but that proved no match for a afghan mutt who could put Olympic pole-vaulters to shame. Brin would not tolerate being left and the gate would come crashing down as we tried placing it higher each time. The base of his sleeping crate became quickly destroyed so further layers of blankets had to be placed inside to cover the exposed metal. Fourteen harnesses were shredded and one nifty bite would see the end of so many leads that I eventually lost count.

Television was carefully monitored as he would fly at the screen if any dogs were barking, cats meowing or birds singing. In the evening, while trying to relax, Brin would have to have a lead on while he sat by us as he would often jump all over the place if something spooked him and more than once he tried to jump through the window after his reflection.

He became my shadow and wherever I went he was there.

Cards and gifts soon arrived to welcome him home and the local paper featured him once more as I really wanted to thank everyone involved in raising the funds to help.

Brin would explore the garden inch by inch and it was on the second day that the full extent of his ‘lifesaving sniffing skills’ came in to play.

Watching him from the kitchen window we saw him exploring an area of the garden where a newly planted pear tree was waving in the wind.

Suddenly, as if in slow motion, the tree gracefully tipped over followed by flurries of mud flying high into the air. With a wave of horror I realised what he was doing and what he had found. Four month earlier we had said goodbye to our elderly cat Marilyn and buried her just behind the rose-bed. I had not banked on seeing her again so soon, but Brin had it seemed, and running up the garden I made it just in time before he had removed her completely.

I am fortunately blessed with a strong stomach, through caring for many injured and sick animals over the years, but this was something else.

Three times I had to re-bury her due to Brin insisting that this really was something exciting to do and on his fourth attempt to resurrect her I decided that it would be safer to cremate her instead!

Digging became a massive occupation and at night it would prove a real challenge to get him indoors.

In Afghanistan the dogs would dig huge holes to sleep in for warmth and safety. Brin was still learning and it was amazing to see his old habits return. I would sit quietly in the dark and talk to him sometimes for up to an hour for, if I approached him too quickly, he would run off and the process would start all over again. He would dig a deep hole and sit as flat as he could and this was usually right at the back of a flower bed full of heavy foliage. Nothing would bring him to me and I would slowly inch my way up to him, stopping when I could feel the tension mount.

Once I had the lead on him all was fine and he was happy to trot back indoors and into his kennel where a small pile of snacks were waiting. This process of digging and hiding away at night took 12 weeks to totally fade away but I was willing to go through it with him and not force him to do anything he felt unsure of.

It was going to take time, patience and consistency for he had learnt so many ways to survive on his own and I was not about to take control of a dog just because I was cold, tired and often soaked through with rain.

In fact, I admired him deeply.

Despite having a full stomach and a cosy bed he still carried with him the burden of what went before and in some way, though all the changes he had endured, there was an insecurity that remained deep-rooted and ingrained. Maybe he felt that change would come again and so held on to his learned tactics just incase…what I did know was I loved him dearly and, despite the growing exhaustion of caring for a dog who already had physically pushed me to the limit, I became even more determined to let him know that nothing bad was ever going to happen to him again…

 

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and so it happened…

We were off to pick up Brin at long last.

6 months had flown by and the friendships and fun that had built up along the way certainly made it even more special.

All of the family came down to greet Brin as he was finally set free. Armed with his harness and lead and helium ‘thankyou’ balloons it all felt rather surreal to think that this would be the last time I would drive the 30 miles to his kennel.

Walking down the corridor I also peeked in at the other dogs I had come to know over the months. These dogs came from all over the world..truly fascinating.

And so the moment came…the door unlocked and we all stood back.

Brin, in his usual cautious manner, poked his nose across the threshold and retreated back into the place that had been his home for so long. Further calling encouraged him to fly out and begin a mad dashing up and down the corridor greeting everyone with a flurry of wagging and fur. Such a happy dog. Such a happy moment.

Of course there were tears…he had made quite an impact on everyone there, not only because of his story and all he had endured, but because of his unconditional love and trust he had shown everyone involved in his care.

Not once had he grumbled. Not once had he growled or made anyone wary. He had taken his time and time had been given to him to recover and with the help of so many here was a dog who was ready to take the next steps towards learning about life without fear, hunger or pain.

The car proved no problem at all. I sat in the back with him all the way home and watched as he took in everything that went past the window. Constantly reassuring him by talking and stroking he was quick to relax and take the journey in his stride.

Waiting at home were my three other dogs and, although I knew they were accepting of all dogs, our concern was how Brin would react on meeting them.

In Afghanistan dogs have a daily fight for survival and we knew we would have to take real care over so many things.. especially food and water as well as toys. I had already bought extra water bowls and placed them round the garden as I felt that having just one bowl may become a problem. This proved to be a good move as, in fact, when Brin came home the importance of water became more of a focus than food.

Leading Brin into the house on his lead the others dogs came forward to greet him. Brin wagged his tail and showed no hesitation at all and it was decided to let them all go out into the garden.

For Brin, this was almost overwhelming. He stood for ages just sniffing the air and gazing into the distance. My other dogs would come up and check him out and move on..I was so proud of them all. Only when Ruby got a little ‘in his face’ was there a grumble but this soon dispelled.

Dennis, the youngest aged 11, was very excited to have a new playmate and what happened next you will see in the video below..

but…there was much more to learn about this dog from Afghanistan…and unbeknownst to me I had not bargained for all the things he would get up to in the weeks and months beyond…

 

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the week before…

And so it was to be…

Brin was finally coming home to us.

Seven days were left after months of driving down through all weathers, three times a week.

In a way I would really miss these times.

Brin and I had built up such a relationship within four walls and I had managed to form a bond with a dog who had tolerated massive changes in his short life without complaint. We had sat together for hours on end and I have to admit to crying many times due to the pleasure of seeing him learn to play and enjoying being just a dog that had nothing to fear ever again.

Everyone who came in contact with him adored him. There was something magnetic in his personality that had borne him well through so many difficulties and so much hardship. No one could resist his earnest gaze, his warmth and joy at just being alive. He had wanted for nothing but took such pleasure in his gifts of toys and the comfort of his bed. Stories would come out from the girls who, on their nightly rounds, would watch him arrange all his toys in a circle around his sleeping area as if placing them on guard to watch over him while he slept. Sometimes the girls would creep into his kennel and fall asleep next to him, just to give him company and I loved them for that.

When the snow came and I couldn’t get down to visit I rang to ask if they could place a pice of snow in his kennel as he would never have seen this before. They did and this photo was sent to me

His love of routine was evident and you could almost tell the time by him. I bought in a harness to see what his reaction would be, having never worn one before, and he coped extremely well but it would also be one of fourteen he would chew through in his first month of being home!

At home I had purchased a large crate for him to sleep in for to allow him free access to roam around at night would probably cause a few problems for a dog who had never stepped in side a house before.

I had also sold my car to re-fence our garden as I did not want to use a penny of the money raised for my own purposes.

So we were ready…at least as ready as we could be.

There were big changes coming up for Brin, and indeed my family, but we would now take it one day at a time and see what the future would bring.

The clock was ticking…

and the reality of living with a dog from Afghanistan was just around the corner…

 

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as time went by…

Time was coming for us to make a decision.

Of course, I was totally in love with Brin having spent all of the late summer and winter with him. It was a big decision to make as our home had just been the three collies, who had always been together in excellent harmony, for over 10 years.

We felt we should give it a go and see what happened. Brin, being predominantly a feral dog, would have no knowledge of so many things that it would certainly be a steep learning curve for all of us!

I had watched him grow in confidence and loved seeing him learn new things. His toy box was overflowing with gifts sent from many people from all over the world and I would share with them photos and news every time I came back from a visit.

It had been decided that Brin would be neutered while in quarantine, via special licence, and this would certainly help with any aggression towards my dogs at home. This was done one month prior to coming home and Brin coped extremely well. I have to say we did laugh..poor soul!

I brought in toys from home for him to smell and play with as I felt that by introducing their scent it would help with the initial meeting..but deep down I still worried about how things would work out.

But we had come so far and we were not going to give up on him.

                         And so the next stage of Brins journey, and ours, was about to begin…

 

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Brin hits the headlines…

Word about Brin, and his amazing story and rescue, began to spread.

Papers and radio stations continued to share his story and I was contacted by ITV as they wanted to film him for a Christmas special.

Being still in quarantine I was worried about Brins reaction to having strangers in his relatively small space as I was still unsure of his capabilities when faced with certain situations.

Mark was coming down too, as they wanted to include him in the interview, so that helped knowing he would enable Brin to feel secure.

Everyone arrived on time and I had already spent time with Brin giving him a brush-up and his usual snacks to make him feel relaxed and ready to roll.

He met all the new people with his usual charm, and seemed to be coping well, until the camera-man arrived and he reacted like I had never seen before. His tail went down and he became very guarded, running around the edges of his kennel and barking as if trying to escape. Mark mentioned that the camera looked very much like a gun that Brin would have been very close to while on patrol with the lads in Afghanistan and these memories were being well and truly triggered. I have to say I was not happy to see him so upset as this really showed the true power of memory for this dog and was certainly an eye-opener for all who witnessed it.

It was decided to leave the camera on the ground for a while to allow Brin to sniff and check out the whole structure and this worked like a charm. He seemed to understand that there was nothing to be afraid of and the old Brin returned once more.

The filming began and Brin was amazing. He sat and waited for treats and wagged his tail at Mark who was off camera keeping strong eye contact at all times.

The filming took just over an hour and after they left I spent time with Brin just sitting and letting him relax by my side.

The article went national and Brin’s story was soon being shared all over the world via his Facebook page.

His fan base was building by the hour and the love that was growing for this little brown dog, from all over the world, was phenomenal.

 

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two old friends…

I had been Brins constant visitor for over one month and he was really settled and very loved at the quarantine.

The girls who cared for him were amazing and often would come in and sit with me while Brin would dart in and out to check out the snack rations.

One day was going to be particularly amazing and one I had hoped would come.

Mark was home and was travelling down to see his old pal once more. It had been several months since they had seen each other at the dusty patrol base back in Afghanistan. To Mark, it still seemed incredible that Brin had actually made it home.

On his arrival, Mark thanked all the girls who had already done so much for Brin and then came the moment when the two old friends would meet once more.

Brin heard his voice even before he saw him. He knew exactly who was arriving. His whole body changed and his tail wagged as if it would fly from his body.

Mark was behind the door and as it lifted there was no stopping the flurry of a small brown dog who danced around Mark as if on hot coals.

He raced up and down the corridor, skidding all over the place and his energy was awesome to see. Mark whistled him back and Brin raced once more to be at his side.

There was no denying the bond between these two.

Always together.

Many memories.

I think this photo says a lot about the relationship between Mark and Brin.

For ages they sat together and Brin didn’t take his eyes off him.

Without Mark, Brin would not have survived long enough to make it out of Afghanistan.

I think he knew.

 

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