So Monday night, after I've been working with King George Animal Rescue League all weekend, I get an e-mail about 10:00 pm (Not a phone call at a reasonable time of the night) saying that my dog might be put down if I don't get to the shelter on Tuesday to pick him up. No one to phone for additional info.
The roommate and I scrambled around on Tuesday, made arrangements to be there at 2:00. When I finally got hold of someone from KGARL, she said that she was the person who normally pulled the dogs for adoption outside the county, but that she was away all day, and she'd try to get someone there by 2:00. She wasn't sure who, but she'd try.
We go there at 2:00 and received a phone call from the woman who was going to meet us there. She was friendly and nice, as were the animal control officers. We paid our money, snagged our dog and ran.
He was a relatively good dog all the way home, he wanted to watch out the front of the car while we drove, but moved when he was told, and occasionally delivered little doggy kisses.
When we got home, we wandered around the backyard for a few minutes, he was calmish, so I let him off the leash. On a note to anyone adopting a dog, never, ever let the dog off the leash, even in an enclosed space, until you and he both know that he lives here now.
The dog next door barked, the heat pump kicked in and a truck backfired out across the back forty, and the dog started running. The yard is covered in leaves, and when we tried to catch him it made a big crunching noise, and he thought that whoever we were, we probably ate dogs.
He ran for two hours. I called KGARL and left a message begging for help. Their response was to send an e-mail to a third party saying I sounded like I needed some assistance. No One responded on the phone, and it was two days before anyone responded by e-mail. I can't tell you how abandoned we felt by the people who had promised to devote their resources to making the dog adoption work.
I called the vet in tears, asking if they had any advice. One of the vet techs, Heather, an angel sent by God, actually came to the house. We tried every trick in the book, and none of them worked. With the Vet's permission, we tranquilized some food. He ate, he calmed, he was caught. (I wonder what that looks like in Latin?) By the time we caught him he had been running for a solid six hours. Inside, he paniced in the crate. It was a long horrible night.
I called in "sick of the dog" to work the next day, as did the roommate. We got an appointment at the vet for that afternoon and hunkered down for the day. He picked a spot in the living room, in front of the bookcase, behind the magazine rack and settled in. He avoided the cats studiously. He ate with an absolutely scary level of dedication. He successfully took care of business outside, which was promising.
We took him to the vet, and they gave him all his shots and did the initial exam. He was Heartworm Negative. He had no internal parasites. It's a tiny miracle, really. They gave us the Stray Discount and we left him there overnight so they could neuter him the next day.
That night, there was sleeping, and a lot of it, since we didn't know how he was going to be when he came home.
When we picked him up from the vet, he was a little drugged, so I decided to let him stay in the bedroom instead of his crate. No noise, no fuss, he put his head under the bed, gave a great sigh of relief and went to sleep. Other than waking me up every two hours to make sure everything was OK, he was FANTASTIC.
I finally got hold of the animal behaviorist from KGARL, who gave me some outstanding advice and support for getting him used to his crate. Unfortunately, one of the pieces of advice was to try him on a "marrow-bone" to see if the activity would help him be calm. He attacked Tabby over the bone. Bone taken away, durable resources will be with-held until we can provde some additional training.
It's been three weeks, all of it non-stop action. The animal behaviorist from KGARL has provided advice and support and has been utterly invaluable. He still doesn't quite get the potty outside thing, but it's coming along. We've been able to transition him to a tether and then to complete freedom in the backyard, and he trots right inside when we come in. He's still good with the cats, and he's learned to sit, lie down and "leave it" when presented with his dinner (so we can get our hands out of the way before the feeding frenzy begins.) He takes treats without trying to remove fingers. He walks loose-leash with a minor amount of prompting, and will cheerfully potty along the route. He won't cheerfully potty in the backyard, but I guess we'll get there.
He had his first bath on Sunday a week ago, and was an angel.
We had a minor setback last Tuesday, when Tabby went to the vet to have a mass removed. Malachi shredded his blankets and urinated on everything. A different animal behaviorist says that he did that thinking that he had lost his pack, and the shredding and urination is a way to help his pack find him again. He tears up his bankets and urinates if left alone in his create for any length of time, but hopefully he'll grow out of it as he gets more secure.
We had a foot of snow and he LOVES to play in it. He rolls and runs and plays with Tabby!!
Now we're mostly caught up, I'll try to stay a little more current.
We have a theory here that cats have multiple names, which sort of name varies from pet to pet.
I called the vet in tears, asking if they had any advice. One of the vet techs, Heather, an angel sent by God, actually came to the house. We tried every trick in the book, and none of them worked. With the Vet's permission, we tranquilized some food. He ate, he calmed, he was caught. (I wonder what that looks like in Latin?) By the time we caught him he had been running for a solid six hours. Inside, he paniced in the crate. It was a long horrible night.
He looks like a dog version of MorGeorge (whose pictures are generally captioned "What?" )
This is across the back deck to the gate
This is across the back yard from one corner to the other. It's a pretty good size, not huge, but not postage stamp either
This is from the middle of the back down to the front corner
Here's the crate room. Tabby's is the small one on the left, he'll have the Ginormous one on the right. We usually keep memory foam mattresses in them, covered with cheap blankets. I would expect we'll just give him blankets the first day so he doesn't eat the memory foam. Then if that works, he can have a comfy bed for the day.
And lastly, his comfy bed in the bedroom where he will eventually spend his nights.
