A Dogshank Redemption

The first night we brought him home I cried. "We made a mistake", I thought, as he chased the cats until they hissed and clawed, as he knocked my cereal bowl over spilling it on my lace table cloth, as he toppled over the candles on the kitchen table and jumped up on couches, counters, beds .. this was a BIG mistake, huge. Chris and I sat across the living room from one another, my fingers tangled in his collar trying to keep him sitting still, unsuccessfully.  "He won't stop," we kept repeating in disbelief as the animal's energy seemed to increase as the night went on, "What do we do? It's unnatural!"

I couldn't believe it. I've waited over ten years to have a dog of my own.  How is that not the all American dream? A husband, a house and a dog; perfect. And yet here we were, staring with heads shaking at our newest addition; Satan. Surely the rescue center forgot to tell us about his mental instability. Clearly they left out the part that he hasn't slept in 3 months and is living on the pure energy of evil. I kept playing the scene over and over again as we take the walk of shame into the pound, demand our money back, and I start crying and shaking my fist, shouting "el diablo! el diablo!".  How did we get here?

The first night was torture. I laid in bed beside Chris absolutely frozen in fear that had I have turned over,  sighed heavily, or repositioned ..  fire would leap from the foot of our bed, animating the foul beast once again in unholy possession.  So I remained in one spot for the entire night. My back was killing me, my eyes were heavy throughout the day, but I managed not to stir the demon until 6:15am. Granted, my alarm was set for 7:30am, but it wasn't so bad. Now for breakfast .. do I feed it dead baby limbs or shaved kittens? What does one feed something so nightmarish?  I went with dog food, and luckily this appeased the nether-gods.

The next day both Chris and I had prior obligations with family and we were out of the house for a majority of the day.  I prepared myself, upon arriving home first, that the house would be torn to shreds, the cats mauled, all the legs on the furniture chewed to nubs, and feces and urine splattered throughout the entirety of the home.  I opened the door reluctantly at first, even looked over my shoulder and glared for added effect. I pushed the door open and was absolutely caught off guard by what I found. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight before me. My expectations were nowhere near accurate as I stood in the doorway, mouth agape at the scene in our small Long Island cape. Nothing.

Nothing was out of place, nothing was broken, nothing was ruined and the overwhelming scent of doo-doo lined walls wasn't permeating through the air. Everything was as we left it. I found the dog quietly laying on the bedroom floor on his pillow. "I've caught you. Don't think I'm falling for this. You've murdered the cats, haven't you?" I scoured the house for the bloody remains of our once Siamese cats, but once again I was baffled when both cats were in tact and sleeping in a nearby office chair. I spent the next 5 minutes checking each possible source of chaos in the house and found that everything was normal. He slowly came out of the room with a yawn and a lick to my hand and he strolled over to the back door. I let him out, he went potty immediately and then returned inside to greet me happily, and have his head pat.

Don't get me wrong, he was nowhere near perfect. He hadn't sat down (in our company) for more than 5 minutes and I'd yet to see him relax.  He continued pacing the house, back and forth, as if looking for something or someone.  Though he remained anxious throughout the evening, the real breakthrough came later on as Chris and I sat down to watch "Shawshank Redemption". Right there as they were tarring the roof and drinking cold beers something amazing happened. The dog laid down. And not just for a second because we told him to, or because he was stalking a bug, but because he was tired. As if the demons had lifted from his body, he laid down and napped. He stirred once, moved positions, and laid down again. He was finally becoming comfortable in his new surroundings.

Owning a pre-owned dog was a new experience for me.  He knew things, commands, actions, that clearly denoted someone had taught him. He knew to "sit" and "down", but there were a few surprises along the way. I suppose this is how other adoptive parents of rescued pets feel when they learn things about their new, but someone's old, pet.  I was surprised that when I asked, "where's your toy?" he immediately ran over to one of his stuffed animals and brought it over. That must have been a coincidence,  I thought as I asked the same question again, with the same response.   I don't need to be redundant for you to get the point; he knew what that meant. Then there was "drop it", another fun discovery as we played ball in the backyard one day. Not to mention the barking to go out and the paw in the dish when the water is finished.  I suppose I forgot he wasn't a puppy, new to learning all these experiences, but someone had loved him before us, cared for him, and it showed.

Through my sister-in-law, we became acquainted with the local off-leash dog-park. He LOVES it!! He runs the equivalent of miles chasing and being chased by his new friends.  And I get the satisfaction of a peaceful house when he comes home and naps all afternoon. You know, I just realized that's exactly why parents take their children to the playground. 'Socializing skills' my ass, they just want the kids to go down for a nap without a fight. Tricky parents, very tricky. Well now I was one of those moms and enjoyed my time outdoors talking to the other owners, and the quiet house I returned home to. The routine was forming and I was liking it.

Now, though he's still a bit rambunctious with the cats and has a bit of separation anxiety, he's doing much better.  It's difficult for him to remain in one room if we leave for another and he can't be left alone in the backyard without begging and barking to come inside.  It's something we'll have to work on in the days ahead.  Suggestions welcome if anyone has any good tips on rehabilitating rescue dogs. Overall, he's a wonderful dog.  He even let me dress him up in a rubber-ducky rain slicker yesterday.  His temperament is perfection, his loyalty unmatched. His hyperactivity .. needs some working on, but otherwise I couldn't be happier with how he's rounding out in his new home.  I'm glad too, because that animal exorcist was overpriced and I knew it.