Sunday Success Story: The Wonderful Ben
Sometimes, the perfect ending isn’t planned – it’s found along the way.
Ben’s journey to happiness almost didn’t happen. After being let down at the last minute, he nearly missed his place on the happy bus from Romania to the UK. Thankfully, Robin stepped in, offering him an emergency foster home with the intention of helping him settle before finding his forever family.
From the moment Ben arrived, timid and unsure, Robin and her cats, Riker and Picard, welcomed him with open arms. Little did Robin know, Ben had already found his forever home. She quickly realised she couldn’t let him go, becoming a proud ‘failed foster’.
Together, Robin and Ben have overcome every challenge – from tackling his fears to nursing him through illness.
Now, this once-shy boy is thriving in the loving home he was always meant to have.
Robin shared her story…
“I had sworn I wouldn’t get another dog. It had been three years since my last dog passed away from old age, and the memory of his loss was still vivid. He had been my best friend for many years, and his collar remained by the front door, untouched, a quiet tribute.
Yet here I was, sleepless for days, knowing my life was about to change. My phone’s notifications had become a source of excitement; every ping might bring news about my new arrival. The ‘Happy Bus’ had been traveling across Europe, and now it was in the UK.
I chuckled at the photo of my soon-to-be companion. The name Happy Bus felt ironic, as my new housemate looked anything but happy in his picture. A few weeks earlier, while scrolling through Facebook, I had stumbled upon a post marked ‘urgent’. The accompanying video told the story of Ben, a dog who had been ready to travel to the UK when, at the last moment, his adoption fell through. I reached out to the rescue organisation. My initial thought was to foster him temporarily, offering a stable home until he found a permanent family.
The rescue team responded quickly, arranging a home check. Their attention to detail and focus on the animals’ safety impressed me, and I was thrilled to hear my home was deemed suitable. They gave me a thorough rundown of Ben’s needs: he was timid, would need a long adjustment period, and likely wouldn’t walk on a lead for some time. Housetraining, they warned, would be a work in progress.
On the morning of his arrival, I sat by the window, nervously waiting. When the bus finally pulled up, I was the last stop. Ben was so frightened he wouldn’t leave his travel crate, a typical reaction for dogs like him who feared men. The transporters handed me the small, scared creature and took a photo. His eyes remained locked on the men around him.
Carrying him upstairs with a lead in one hand, I gently placed him in the ‘safe space’ I’d prepared for his decompression. As soon as he was down, he lifted his leg and unleashed a torrent - relief washing over his face after holding it in for the journey. I muffled a laugh, grateful he felt comfortable enough to let go. Exhausted, he lay down in his new spot and fell into a deep sleep.
DEFRA regulations required keeping him indoors for 48 hours. During this time, I made a point of ignoring him, giving him space. I’d hum to myself while making coffee or scroll through my phone at the kitchen table, carefully avoiding eye contact. Slowly, he started to steal glances at me. The next time, I winked at him, and he held his gaze a little longer. Eventually, he ventured out of his crate, walking shyly over to sit by my feet. He rested his head in my hand, inviting a pat.
To everyone’s surprise, Ben quickly surpassed expectations. After his initial adjustment period, he accepted a harness, and we tried short walks. He set the pace, guiding me in what he was comfortable with. Meanwhile, my cats, who had been separated from him behind a baby gate, grew curious about the newcomer. Introductions began cautiously, with scent-swapping and supervised interactions. My indoor cats, who had never met a dog before, soon learned Ben posed no threat. Before long, the three were coexisting peacefully.
I knew I couldn’t let him go. I was officially a ‘foster fail’, signing the adoption papers with excitement and anticipation for our new life together.
Ben settled in beautifully. He grew more confident with each passing day, especially on walks. Though he was still wary of men, we worked on desensitisation, and he began to join in when company visited instead of hiding. He was blossoming.
But then, I noticed blood in his urine. Taking him to the vet so soon after his arrival wasn’t ideal, given his timid nature, but it couldn’t be avoided. The initial diagnosis was a urinary tract infection, and antibiotics seemed to help—at first. But the bleeding returned. After months of recurring issues, further tests revealed Ben had a retained testicle in his abdomen. He underwent surgery to remove it, and we hoped this would resolve the problem.
Unfortunately, another month passed with no improvement. A visiting vet with experience in Europe recognised the signs: a rare, sexually transmitted cancer called Canine Transmissible Venereal Tumor (CTVT). My heart sank. The thought of losing Ben so soon after finding him was unbearable.
The vet explained that unlike most cancers, CTVT was highly treatable with chemotherapy, boasting an excellent success rate. I didn’t hesitate. For the next eight weeks, Ben underwent weekly chemotherapy sessions. The staff adored him, often sneaking in to give him cuddles during treatment. Despite everything, he remained calm and brave.
On Boxing Day 2022, Ben completed his last treatment. The cancer went into full remission. The cost had been high—thousands of pounds—but it was worth every penny. Ben was special, a gentle soul who brought peace wherever he went. He’s amazing with children and has even helped people overcome their fear of dogs. Whether we’re camping, at the pub, in the office, or on public transport, Ben is a perfect companion.
Whatever life throws at us, we’ll face it together. Ben and I are a team, and I’m so grateful he found his way to me.”
Ben’s story is a reminder that sometimes, when you open your heart to help out an OUR Foundation dog, it’s you who actually gets rescued.
Happy tails, Ben and Robin!