Chief, the Anatolian Shepherd Dog Diary: The Meetup

Cell Block D and the Gentleman in Kennel 12

by: Denise N. Fyffe

That fated Saturday morning, I checked the website again.

No Chief.

Wait—what?
Where is he?
What happened?
Did my new love disappear already?

My heart dropped straight into my stomach.

The Arrival

Around eleven, we drove down to 6707 Animal Shelter Rd, Hughesville, Maryland. We pulled into the parking lot of an unassuming little facility tucked off the beaten path. Simple. Quiet. Ordinary on the outside.

But inside?

Dozens of souls were waiting for love, a partner, a family – a chance at a better life. And many had been waiting far too long.

We walked in. The staff behind the counter were busy with two families—one dropping off, another preparing for a tour. After signing in, we were taken on ours.

As we stepped into what felt like Cell Block D on death row, the noise hit us like a wall.

The Meeting

The barking was almost deafening.

Beagles. Pitbull mixes (sadly, mostly pitbulls). A German Shepherd mix. A sad little pup curled in the corner. And at the end of the corridor, the one I came to see.

God be praised. He was here.

Chief sat on his hunches, looking us over like a well‑mannered gentleman. He took a sip of water, then casually slipped out the little back door.

The smell in the back area was horrid; piles of poop behind each cell. I understood why it smelled that way, but still… it took everything in me not to gag. The sleeping areas were clean, most dogs had beds; except the big ones like Chief.

Most animal centers run on donations and the goodness of strangers’ hearts. Volunteers keep them going, and money is always scarce.

Chief returned to his cell and sat, observing us as if we were the ones being interviewed.

Honestly? We probably were.

I cooed to him, asked how he was. He seemed docile enough. I placed the back of my hand against the bars for him to smell my scent. Not that he needed it—his breed is one of the top guardian dogs in the world.

He could see small, hear far, and sense more than any human ever could.

After getting permission to take him out, a handler led us to the dog park area. I walked him—surprisingly easy. After interrogating the handler (politely, of course) and learning more about this debonair dude, we returned inside and Chief went back into his cell.

It almost broke my heart.

Every dog was clean, energetic, and deserving of a home. They deserved love. (If you’re looking for a pet, visit your local shelter. Take someone home today.)

I had already decided in my heart that he was mine. But I’d promised a friend I would check out another shelter before making a final decision.

The Foster Parents

When we got back to the front, we told the staff we were strongly considering adopting Chief that day—we just needed to make one stop and return.

Right then, a couple burst through the door like the bats of hell were chasing them.

The woman announced she was there to pick up Chief.

The volunteer calmly told them we were also interested and planning to adopt him.

I stayed composed, but inside?

No way in hell was I leaving now.

Chief was meant for me.

I had waited over 25 years to get another dog, and I was spiritually tapping in with God the Father, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and my seven Spanish angels to get on the job and secure this dog for ME.

The volunteer said, “One moment. I’m going to get my supervisor.”

When she returned with the supervisor, they explained the rules:

• First come, first serve.
• Adoption hours start after 10 a.m.
• If the dog is still there, the first interested party has the right to adopt.

After ten tense minutes, the couple wished us well and left.

Praise God! Thank God that was over.

It’s a Done Deal

I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Now it was time to commit.

I signed a bunch of papers.

Answered a bunch of questions.

Paid a $200 fee.

Listened to a mountain of fine print.

Asked even more questions.

I learned about:

• Pet registration (required by the state, included)
• Pet insurance (30 days included)
• Vaccinations (a bunch included)
• Spay/neuter (already done and included)
• A bath (nope, not included)

I asked about his history. Apparently, he was dropped off for chewing wood in the house too much.

I didn’t care. I knew any behavioral issues came from boredom—he’s an active breed.

Chief had a clean bill of health.

He walked well on a leash.

No psychological issues.

Good with small dogs, children, strangers. But he would report any squirrel or cat that came too close.

Fine by me.

I had none of the above in my home anyway. It would be me and him against the world.

The Reunion

After committing to another life partnership and signing on the dotted line, they brought out my new love.

He walked straight toward me and ignored everyone else.

Sly, cheeky bugger.

We greeted each other, I took the leash, and just like that, we headed off into our happily ever after.

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Jamaica Pen Publishers, Maryland, United States.

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About the writer: Denise N. Fyffe is a published author of over 100 books, for more than fifteen years, and enjoys gardening, and volunteering. She is a trainer, publisher, author, and writing mentor, helping others to achieve their dreams. She is also Chief’s mom.