Here's the next installment of "Chester's Tales". It's an unusually long one, but I hope you enjoy it.
Improvements in Chester’s daily life have been subtle. There were no misgivings that one day he’d wake up and be “cured” of the years of abuse and neglect he suffered. When you live so close to a person or animal, you tend to miss obvious signs of change. Thankfully this morning I didn’t miss the most precious moment yet. It gave me the inspiration to write this chapter.
Chester hasn’t behaved like a dog since we adopted him. I mean he hasn’t acted like any dog we’ve ever known. During the first month in our home his behavior was more like that of a stuffed animal, no whining or barking, not a peep. Put him in a corner and he stayed there. When you wanted him to go outside, you physically took him there. Originally that meant physically pulling on a leash attached to his harness, or physically lifting him up. Chester weighed only 55 pounds when we brought him home, but the muscles in my legs, shoulders and arms got quite a workout. Since Chester and I spent most of our time upstairs, that meant moving him down a long hallway, around a corner, down the stairs, across the family room to the sliding door to the back yard. Corners are bad too because the apprehension was obvious whenever we approached one. At night time the lights had to be on in advance of any movement. Closing doors behind us as we walked would startle him into “freeze mode”. Sometimes just hearing the furnace kick on was enough to stall our forward progress for a minute.
His eyes were probably the most telling, almost lifeless, empty. Chester never really looked “at” you. Even when I sat down on his level and looked directly into his eyes, all I saw was a far away look of sadness. He avoids looking directly at anyone for any reason. Chester’s hair coat was thin, dry and dull and he had rolls of extra, loose skin. At some time in his previous life, this dog had been much heavier. He’s as long bodied as Casey although Chester is taller and has finer bones. Her healthy weight is about 90 pounds. If it was meal time, you placed a food bowl directly in front of him and he put his head into the bowl. That usually meant reaching under a table or chair because that’s where he spent much of his day. Making sure he had enough to drink also involved physically bringing the water bowl to him and placing it within his reach. He had no intention of walking to it, at least not when people were in the vicinity. Also, Chester never ate or drank from a standing position. He was always prone with front feet on either side of the bowl, head literally in the bowl, protecting the contents from others.
Sleeping arrangements were originally in a kennel placed in my room, the kennel door always open, where we put a soft dog bed and a few toys. Chester never picked up a toy, but he occasionally snuggled next to the larger soft Clifford-type dog I bought for him. The kennel was his safe haven. When startled by the smallest noise or quick movement, he scampered back inside the kennel. Unless you’ve owned a fearful animal, you might not realize how extreme this can be. A small noise could be a slight cough, blowing your nose, shoes walking on hardwood floors, the closing of a cabinet or drawer. Simply picking up the TV remote generally caused him to relocate for awhile. If he didn’t physically run away from the noise, he noticeably flinched or ducked into a smaller space to hide.
Taking walks with Chester was a struggle for us all. Originally he didn’t seem to enjoy leaving the house at all, always looking side to side and frantic at the certain danger lurking somewhere. At the suggestion of his foster family, we double-hooked his leash to collar and harness. Good idea because as fearful as this dog was, nobody ever said he was stupid. He knew how to back up and pull out of his collar or harness, lowering his head and scrunching his shoulders to inch out. My leg and arm muscles got more workouts every time we left the house. Chester wouldn’t go anywhere outside of the house or our back yard without Casey. She had to lead the way and even then it was a physical battle pulling his leash to get him started. Once walking alongside Casey, he was okay but always fearful. Seeing another dog on a leash or anybody simply walking on the other side of the street would send Chester into a tailspin, literally spinning in place seeking the best way to escape. He tried to run under vehicles, or jump into truck beds or into thick underbrush, anywhere he might be safe.
Chester isn’t the same dog we adopted in late September. He is making slow progress, at times actually seems to enjoy his life. He knows he will eat healthy meals regularly a few times a day with treats and people food occasionally in between. He still hides under tables, at times, but spends most of his time in corners and always with his back to a wall. His sleeping place of choice is on the dog bed in a corner beside my bed. He doesn’t seem to miss the kennel. Toys are strategically placed where he wants them as if they’re special companions. He sometimes picks a few favorites up to take with him when he moves from one room to another. He has never picked up a ball or rope, although he watches Casey play with hers. He’s not a retriever yet. Chester sometimes enjoys “stealing” toys from Casey. They have this game where one picks up a toy and runs; when they drop it, the other dog grabs it. They aren’t actually playing together yet. Chester occasionally runs when Casey does, but they’re not really interacting, he’s in another area simply mimicking her from his own space. She has been a good influence on him and she acts like the typical big sister even though he’s about three or four years older than her. He watches intently how she interacts with us, from the safety of his corners, of course. Chester ends up with most of the toys at the end of the game because Casey doesn’t seem to care about them for long. They are, for the most part, her “old” toys, nothing new for her to have “things”.
Some of the biggest gains in Chester’s battle to become a dog aren’t the obvious ones like having a shiny hair coat or having gained weight. I don’t know how much he weighs for sure because I won’t stress him out needlessly by taking him to a veterinary clinic to put him on the scale. He still doesn’t like getting out of the car anywhere, not even at home. My best guess is that he’s put about 10 pounds on since we adopted him a few months ago. There are still a few bony areas but mostly he has filled out nicely. He doesn’t waste time when eating or going potty. Once the food dish is in front of him, he eats. When he’s taken to the back yard, he goes potty and returns immediately to the back door to come inside.
Yes, Chester is learning to become a Golden Retriever but we knew that would happen in time. He patiently sits or stands to be leashed for walks anywhere in the house or to the back yard. No more balking at those moves, although he may turn around and return back to the original room when the leash is removed. Sometimes he follows us to another room or the basement on his own. Whenever I’ve been out of the room, even for a few minutes and then reenter, he makes this quiet whistle sound as he gets up to approach me, to be petted. Most of the time he stands while drinking from the water dish, but old habits die hard as he still prefers to eat and drink from a prone position.
Thankfully I didn’t miss the subtlety of what happened this morning. He was lying on his dog bed, watching television. I came into the room, around the corner and walked up to pet him (like I do dozens of times a day). He looked up at me … right into my eyes. His eyes said “I love you, you care for me and I appreciate it.” They weren’t the dead, unfocused eyes we’ve seen for months; they weren’t those far-away sad eyes with their tales of abuse. His eyes were bright and shining and full of love and understanding.
Photo: Chester on the left, his adopted sister Casey is upside-down and silly on the right.
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