And So It Begins

Today we went to the veterinary school to meet with the people who will help us work through our, um, issues. Whisper started by making me out a liar—in a good way. We left the car, walked into the waiting room, where a strange (to us) cat and other dog waited, and he managed to ignore all the people and animals, looking around, and not get aggressive with anyone. The behavior tech lady took us back, and he was appropriate with her. Only one time towards the end of our conversation did I start to see him get that wild look in his eye. I called him back to me, and he settled down.

Good boy!

Then we met the vet behaviorist; at the end of the meeting with her today, Whisper and I both were calmer. I love seeing people who know what they are doing; she truly seemed to understand ways to help both Whisper and me.

For my part, she gave me help with training to cause Whisper to be calmer. We train fine; I use a clicker, he adores cheese, he starts ahead of me frequently. “Want me to put my feet on the stool? Here I go!” “Want me to ‘pray’? Move over, Mom!” “Lie down and stay? Piece of cake, er cheese!” 

What she saw that I should have seen is (big reveal!) the dog plays me.  Whether because of how close I am to the problem or because I am just so concerned (read worried to pieces) or because Whisper is so darn cute, I miss that trick of his where he, for example, lies down, gets a click and treat, then figures that if he gets up, Mom will again say “Lie down,” he’ll lie down—and here comes the treat. It took a little while, but well under an hour, while truly ignoring his jumping up from the floor and giving a quiet “Good boy” when he lay back down quietly, he understood, and his behavior was roughly 974% better. She also noted, "He really does look to you a lot." Yes, my dog...

That quieter behavior let us have a detailed discussion of his history and how we got to here. But, it was more of information gathering—I never felt any criticism of me, Whisper’s heritage, our home or training, anything. She took it all in and gave concrete steps for helping us.

Then came getting blood for evaluation.  Calmly and quietly she brought us a muzzle “for everyone’s protection,” but a muzzle that gave room for him to pant and get treats. She very slowly worked her way closer to me, set the muzzle down on the table, and withdrew back to where she was sitting, taking notes on a computer. This happened over an hour into the session, and by that time Whisper acted comfortable with her, watching her as she moved around the room, but, with me treating and “yessing” him as he obeyed the “stay” command I gave him as she moved, he never showed any concern, just curiosity. I placed the muzzle on, giving treats through the openings, and he did not even seem to mind it. Then, we all left the room.

In the hall she brought out her spoon with cheese on it (thank God for cheese!), and after pointing out the restrooms (yes, I had been downing Diet Dr. Pepper…..helps my nerves), she and Whisper trotted off to get his blood work……

…….which when she came back, she said he did very well, though he did tremble some and pee a little. Poor baby is so anxious. But he looked at her like he found a new best friend. GOOD boy!

So, we got a prescription.  As much as I don’t want to drug my dog, I have seen the worst of his behavior—and truly believe that behavior comes from anxiety and fear. If this medicine will let us begin to train the behavior to help him deal with that anxiety in more acceptable ways so that we can all be more comfortable in public, then I am not only willing to try it, but if it works, I may buy stock in the company.   An option to giving him meds might be putting me on something, but I do have to work…

I am so grateful that the behaviorist complimented us on our training; though I need to do a different type of training in some instances, she was very supportive of continuing the training we have been doing—obedience and tricks. She liked my Whisper—or acted like she did. And she made me feel that there is hope to help him (and me) and that he is well worth helping. She mentioned how beautiful he is, and how smart.

Though we are on the first step on helping him learn more appropriate behavior, I left there with hope—and I am grateful for that.  She gave me an abbreviated version of her recommendations, and is emailing me more detailed notes and recommendations. Now, of course, the work starts. And, Whisper loves me to work with him.

GOOD BOY!

I also melted a little plastic to pay for this…..and I don’t care. J

I NEVER THOUGHT IT WOULD HAPPEN TO ME....OR ONE OF MY DOGS

Whisper’s white face…..his black and white pinto-like body…..his gorgeous coat….he was one of the cutest puppies I had ever seen—ever, anywhere, and he has become close to the most beautiful dog, though still in a “puppy” phase at well under two years old.

He also oozed sweetness. I never noticed that homesickness other puppies showed after coming to my house. Right away I became his security. On his first visit to the vet’s office, he seemed nervous with all those big dogs, all those strangers. I picked him up and set him on my lap, and, immediately, he settled calmly on my lap, watching the world go by from the safety of Mom’s arms. Jenni, the then-two-and-a-half-year-old border collie we still have, took on the task of raising him. Henry the cat became his buddy.

Life was good…..

From the first, though, he was an anomaly in his litter. Frankly, he was a little porker, and he just kept growing. Now, less than a year and a half old, he is 60 pounds, 24 inches at the shoulder, and he is not overweight at all. His mother and father both are a trim 45 pounds. (Jenni is a petite girl—in the mid-thirties pounds range. Whisper walked UNDER her when he first got here; now he can almost step over her).  Probably this size led to him needing OCD shoulder surgery at six months old, missing his graduation from puppy class.  This necessary surgery fixed his shoulder issues, but keeping a border collie puppy “still” for six weeks? Yikes…….

I had foot surgery a few months after that, and he was, literally, by my side almost all the time.  I have pictures of my foot propped on the back of the couch, a beautiful, sleeping dog resting his head above the bandages. He is “my” dog.

We took another beginning class, teaching basic obedience, and it started…… Suddenly, he did not want dogs close to him. He got downright, um, aggressive. What?  He is now getting aggressive towards strange humans, as well. I have worked with a trainer, who, bless her, does not take it personally when the dog nips her. I, of course, am mortified.

This is not a dog who has been abused; this is not a dog who has been deprived, who has been afraid in his environment…..he has worked sheep and been fine….suddenly, he has just lost his mind.

And, to be completely shallow and off-the-point, it’s embarrassing. I am, after all, known for training dogs. Sweet Millie came as a terribly-behaved rescue and got TWO CGC certificates (she could forget she was a good citizen in early days) and certified as a therapy AND service dog. A man said to me one time in a store, “You have those smart dogs.”

And sweet. Very, very sweet…….

We went to the vet for Whisper's yearly visit, and in lieu of him eating someone, I was asked to muzzle him, though the tech thought we might have to sedate him. This was my sweet pup who will let me do ANYTHING to him—including put on a muzzle. Inside, he was much calmer (albeit distracted by this thing on his face), and to ward off his protective instincts regarding me, they took him “to the back” to see if he was better without me.

He was, and, had an entire exam, all his shots, and was “very sweet,” except he peed all the time. The vet thinks it is fear aggression…..  But, afraid of what?

I take him out and work with him. “Watch me!” and “heel” and “sit!” and “Watch me!” He is perfect…….till someone gets inside that invisible line he has drawn around us. We do tricks--Whisper saying prayers is about as cute as you will ever see.  I do think there is a sense of protection of me in his actions. But, he also seems to go somewhere else in his head.  That border collie concentration can make it hard to distract him.

This is a dog we walk in the woods and fields off lead and who will ALWAYS come when called. This is a dog who never does not know where I am if I am anywhere he can find me. This is a dog who adores Jenni, my husband, my grown son, even letting the cat rub against him….. He is annoyingly sweet.

And, suddenly, Cujo emerges.

It could be something that happened in his little head after the OCD surgery….

It could be my not being able to work him as much around other dogs when I had my own surgery.

It could be age and brain chemicals.

It could be all or none. I contacted his breeder, and she assured me none of the other puppies had these issues. I believe her…..he is, as I said, an anomaly. She is a responsible breeder.

But, I’ll tell you this….tell a lot of people who train dogs for a living that you have a 60 pound, newly aggressive puppy, and a lot of what you get is, “Let me give you the name of this trainer…..vet…..man I know…..woman who works with aggressive dogs.”

I was fortunate to find someone at all who would help.

After going through a term of at least six degrees of separation (and I don’t blame people—it’s a scary thing), I was referred to the vet school’s behavior unit. Our first appointment is this week.  The trainer who HAS helped us is willing to talk with them if they want her to: she LIKES him, when he’s not going to his crazy place.

So, why share this? Because, I know that sometimes other people get a dog and feel as I do—I love this pup who adores me. But, suddenly (and though he could be nervous early on, this aggressive stuff has NOT been long term) that dog exhibits a new, very worrisome behavior (meet Cujo). I want him to NOT be that upset and worried; I want him to be able to trust me to take care of him, and not feel so protective.  I want him to learn he does not have to LIKE other dogs and people, but he does have to tolerate them.  And, for the first time in my working with dogs, I am out of my depth.  As upset as this whole thing makes me (my Whisper!), I hope that sharing it will somehow help someone else.

I’ll let you know…….