Fear ... theirs and ours

Chester is a fearful dog. There's no question in that statement. It's true.

But, his fears, and those of other rescue dogs like him aren't the only stumbling blocks in the healing process. We hold them back with our own fears. It's easy to pity a helpless animal who has been abused in any way; starved or neglected, maybe beaten. And sometimes it's difficult to determine if what we feel is pity or love. One of those has the power to heal, the other could drag us all down. Sometimes it's difficult to determine which emotion we have at the time. Do we simply feel sorry for the animal? Or, do we see potential in him and believe that we have the patience and desire to help him heal? Does love factor into the equation at all? Will Chester's progress depend on the emotions I have for him? The short answer to all these questions is "yes".

I'm beginning to realize that many of the improvements Chester has made stem from our ability to believe in his success. If I'm persistent and push him to do a task that I know will help him heal, he seems to oblige. He rises to the expectations I have for him. It wasn't easy, on Chester or me, to physically drag him down the hall to another room or outside to potty. On the other hand, if I was hesitant and let "my" fears dominate the situation, he would surely have failed. If I had left him under a table in the basement he'd probably still be there. 

Chester improves a tiny bit every day. He doesn't balk or pull away when I leash him and walk throughout the house. He will follow me, or sometimes lead, just about anywhere within the walls on our home. Going to the back yard is easy and not a fearful thing any more. Walking out the front door isn't as great but we haven't done it as much lately as we should. That's me holding him back because I wanted to give him some normalcy after our traumatic road trip. I thought he might need some time in a comfortable, controlled environment to get over the stress of the long road trip. If Chester could speak, he'd probably tell me to "get over it" and "let's go back to the parks and take long walks again". Yes, the road trip was traumatic, but likely as much or more for me than the dogs. I felt so badly that the dogs were scared and I was embarrassed that a family member was so nasty to them. I wanted the trip to be a good thing for Chester. I never dreamed the outcome would be so different.

Hurdles attempted and achieved include:
1 - Walking throughout the house and outside to back yard on a leash
2 - Doesn't always flinch or jump at most common noises
3 - Smiling
4 - Wagging tail, a few times
5 - Rarely walks with tail between legs, sometimes though
6 - Playing with toys, loves soft toys but still no balls or ropes
7 - Drinking from the "community" water bowl
8 - Eating or drinking from a standing position, occasionally
9 - Looking "at" you when you speak to him, more each day
10 - Rising to meet your hand when petting, sometimes
11 - Playing with adopted sister Casey, several times
12 - Taking walks outside, still must have Casey along and still fearful and anxious
13 - Allowing others to pet him, in a quiet corner of his own home (even children)
14 - Not always underneath a table or chair, most times spent in corners
15 - Eating treats from our hands, will stand or approach to get them sometimes
16 - Approaches me when I've been out of the room awhile, wants acknowledgement
17 - Bath, enjoys it
18 - Personal grooming, he does this regularly
19 - Brushing and combing, he likes us to do this now, before he allowed it
20 - Gained approximately 10 pounds
21 - Enjoys being petted, originally he only tolerated it
22 - Stands and approaches for treats
23 - Loves getting "in" the car and taking rides (this wasn't new to our home situation)

Not a bad list for two months in a new home with new people and another dog. Chester has a long way to go but we won't hold him back. He will progress at his own pace, but with our encouragement ... and sometimes at our insistence.

Bath time

This morning I braved the unknown. Figured if Chester can handle doing this numerous times each day, it's the least I could do for him.

He smells. "Nothing personal Chester, but you've had a faint, unpleasant odor about you since the day we first met." It's been over two months, but today I summoned the courage to attempt giving him a bath.

Taking into consideration all of Chester's known phobias and the possibility of injury in a slippery bathtub or on the ceramic tile floor, I prepared the room. I cleared the hall bathroom of good towels, bathmats, waste basket and vanity decorations. I gathered several old large bath towels, a bucket and sponge and a rubber dog scrubbing brush. Then I filled the tub with lukewarm water, about four inches deep, and grabbed the nicest smelling dog shampoo I could find.

Before I began, I told Glenn to ignore any strange noises coming from the bathroom until I gave him the "all clear". I didn't need him opening the door, thinking he was saving me from some unknown danger. We don't need a scared, wet and soapy dog loose in the house.

Chester walked politely with me while I held his collar leading him to the bathroom. I was holding hope that since he enjoyed the ocean with his foster family, that the water itself might not send him into a frenzy. Given his fear of everything else, who could have guessed what happened next?

He liked it!! Chester stood on a bath towel in front of the tub and patiently let me soak him with water from the large sponge. When I was confident that he wouldn't scramble and hurt himself, I lifted his front feet into the bathtub and followed with the back legs. He stretched out and enjoyed the massage with the dog scrubber. He let me wash him all over and he stayed in the same place while I rinsed him completely. It was easy getting Chester back out of the tub and he sat still while I towel dried him. Then he shook. My otherwise fearful dog even stood and let me clean out his ears.

Bath time with Chester might some day resemble the days when our daughter was a toddler. She enjoyed baths or showers so much that the mere mention of "bath time" brought about a predictable response. She headed that direction, removing clothes and dropping them in a path all the way to the bathroom. Our granddaughter's reaction was much the same.

Now we know one more item on Chester's list of "likes" versus "dislikes". He's another family member who enjoys a good bath.

Touch

Most of Chester's fearful behaviors are textbook. We anticipated and expected many of the traits he exhibits. Other reactions weren't initially obvious to us, like his lack of desire for personal grooming. He was part of our family for quite awhile before we ever saw him so much as lick a foot. I know the lack of personal hygiene is a symptom of depression or post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in people, but never thought about it related to abused dogs.

One of the most pitiful revelations I had with Chester was that he didn't seek attention. He wasn't interested in being petted. Sure, he would let us pet him on the head or back, but most times it seemed that he was just being polite. It truly wasn't something he craved. Actually I'm not certain he even enjoyed it. Most of the time he would drop his head away from the touch. At the same time he very deliberately looked away from the person touching him. Chester's preference was to be alone in a safe location where he could watch us without having to interact.

Golden Retrievers generally thrive on attention. Praise in any form is not only appreciated, but craved or expected by these loving creatures. Our other Golden, Casey, physically pushes her way under your hand or arm when she thinks it's time for more loving. She knows that everyone loves her and simply wants to assist people in touching her to prove it ... that's her version.

Chester still doesn't approach us to be petted, with one exception. If I leave him for awhile with Glenn and Casey, he stands and walks towards me to be petted when I return. He wants a quick pat on the head, just a fast acknowledgement either that I'm back or to let me know that he's happy to have me back in the same room.

Recently Chester's attitude is starting to change regarding touch. I'm sure he's not wholly changed yet, but it's a start. When we pet him, he raises his head to meet our hand. He loves to be brushed or combed and sits quietly while we work on his hair coat. Some of Chester's actions are becoming more normal for a five-year old dog. He likes us to touch him and sometimes he even looks directly at us when we do.

Enjoying touch and making eye contact might not be like claiming the national dog show blue ribbon, but for Chester it's a definite win.

Names ... revisited

November 27, 2012

Okay, naming pets should be a basic task of any pet owner. It's not like we're naming our first born, or at least it shouldn't be that difficult. One-word names that distinguish them from other pets, or names that highlight their color or a personal trait should suffice. Most of our pets were given names that were easy to say and presumably easier for the animal to learn. We shouldn't have to consult with grandparents, aunts and uncles to make sure the name fits properly into their genealogy.

Chester, on the other hand, was given his random name by someone at Golden Bond Rescue of Oregon. His foster family actually called him by another name, but it doesn't matter because he doesn't "answer" to any name. We call him Chester but he rarely even responds, blinks or turns his head when called by any number of names. Actually he doesn't even turn his head to look at you when you make kissing sounds or little whistling noises. We know he's not deaf, but he is very much adept at ignoring people and things around him, if he chooses. I'm sure that was learned behavior out of necessity for survival. Was he beaten when he responded? Was food withheld when he didn't respond? Did he live in a home where people screamed at each other all the time so he learned to tune out voices? Most of the time he's aware of too much, particularly when he's not in what he deems a "safe" location. 

Lately I've been experimenting with him on names and sounds. The only name that seems to even slightly get his attention is "Baby". I'm sure that wasn't his original name, but no doubt there are people who've called him by that nickname.

We don't know how many homes Chester was in or how many people considered him "their" dog. Since he was rescued from a puppy mill, we can assume he was there at least throughout most of his adult life because he was used for breeding. I've mentioned this before but I think he might have had at least some field training, or maybe he spent some time in a rural area as a puppy. As uncomfortable as Chester is in most situations, he seems at home on a leash in an open field. This is an anomaly because his comfort zone is generally small spaces where escape would be easy but where his back is always protected. Glenn and I have each noticed his change in attitude when he's out in a field or large dog park, as long as there aren't other people or dogs around. He's still fearful but definitely more relaxed than walking in the neighborhoods.

Maybe his name was Hunter, Remington, Buckshot, Scout or Sport. I doubt it, but it bothers me that he thinks we don't know who he is. I wish we knew what name he prefers. How would you feel if everyone called you by a strange and unfamiliar name? Hopefully he doesn't think we're just stupid for not knowing his name. Maybe he believes it's just a nickname we like. I will keep trying names and when he smiles at me in recognition, I'll know the truth. In the meantime, he's Chester, our "Baby".

My toys

November 26, 2012

Toys … We use them to teach our children about colors and shapes. We also include them in lessons about sharing with others. If they are for babies or infants, they are typically made of hard plastic or at least they have washable surfaces.

Dog toys are another thing. If you have ever had a large dog, you know that toys get trashed pretty easily and sometimes the same day you present it to the dog. The dog may begin playing with a stuffed animal and you think it’s cute to watch them cuddle it as if it’s their baby. Over time the dog gets bored and starts using the toy as a bone … at least Casey does. She has dozens of stuffed animals, squeaky toys that have been unstuffed with fluff balls left all over the house. She likes holding a soft toy between her front feet and ripping at the other end with her teeth to shred it.

Well, Chester didn’t have the privileged life that Casey has enjoyed (or taken for granted). We don’t know for sure, but the only toy we know of that he ever had was a stuffed duck that he loved while at his foster home. Since we first met Chester at a neutral location, we weren’t able to take his favorite toy with us to his permanent home. At the time we thought it sad that he didn’t have something to call his own, but then we decided that a clean start was probably a good thing. We’d buy him his own things.

At first Chester didn’t seem interested in toys, or anything else. He wouldn’t pick up a tennis ball (Casey’s favorite thing to toss around and chase). He has never had a rope in his mouth that we know of. He’s not big on bones either but I think his gums get sore easily because he hasn’t done much chewing like that. Stuffed animals, on the other hand, do seem to be Chester’s “thing”.

People say that Golden Retrievers have “soft mouths”. They have been known to carry up to 3 raw eggs in their mouth at a time without breaking any of them. They love to carry stuffed animals around, especially if they have squeakers inside. Originally these dogs were bred to “retrieve” birds from the hunt. It wouldn’t bode well with their owner if they bit through the bird or tore it into pieces before returning it to the hunter.

Chester LOVES toys!! His favorite is the stuffed duck we bought to replace the one he enjoyed at his foster home. Since then he has become a toy collector and a toy thief. He has turned his dog bed area, next to my bed, into a haven for lost and damaged toys. Casey’s former toys that were put away in boxes or lying around the house, yard or garage; end up in his stash, sooner or later. This morning I noticed a few I hadn’t seen there before, tucked neatly at the edge of his bed, out of sight, just under my bed. He has certain locations for each toy. They don’t seem to ever be out of place and when Casey approaches the room, he makes sure ALL the toys are behind him or hidden where she won’t take them back. Chester usually greets his sister Casey with the favorite duck in his mouth. He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea and unstuff or shred his best friend.

Does Chester have a dog version of obsessive compulsive disorder? I think he probably has many disorders, perhaps including OCD, given the traumas in his former life. What I know is that Chester uses his toys, and those rescued from Casey, as additions to his own little family. They are a comfort to him … and that’s a good thing.

Recent photos

It's the eyes

November 25, 2012

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.