Dog Sense: 99 Relationship Tips From Your Canine Companion by Carla Genender
2006
Weight: 10 oz
Method of Disposal: Lending Library
Working in animal rescue has led me to collect, receive, and trade all sorts of dog books. This one was given to me by a volunteer and contains cute little snippets from the perspective of owned dogs and little information blips about rescued pups. I will take it to the lending library at the shelter so another volunteer or staff member can enjoy it.
Working in animal rescue has also led me to take home and foster a large number of dogs--all incredibly unique and different than each other. My wife and I are currently fostering a beautiful, large dog named Kurt Vonnegut. He is 80 lbs and at least 20 of those pounds must be in his head, which he throws around constantly. He manages to bash that little pea brain in to all sorts of things in the course of a single day. He is lanky and goofy and always seems to have a limp, which he has been to the doctor to have checked many times. We are currently on a lot of pain medication but still have no real idea what is causing it. The words "bone cancer" have been thrown around a lot.
We tend to take in animals who need a lot of care, care that others may find scary, or pets who have serious behavioral problems. The main reason we do this is because we often cannot find anyone else at that time for those particular pets and they have an immediate need. The other reason is that we have a pack of our own dogs, and we can only justify changing their lives for the ones that might not make it otherwise. We have seen a lot of happy endings--more than we have seen sad ones, but we have definitely had our share of sad endings. Sometimes, we just don't know the ending. The dog or cat disappears with their new owner never to be heard from again.
Kurt Vonnegut will have the saddest of endings, and it is unbearable to think about. We initially heard about Kurt Vonnegut when we received a call for help that he was lost in a snow storm. We went to help, but we could not find him. We would ultimately track him down at a nearby animal control, and we would struggle with them a lot and for several weeks to get them to turn him over to us. They seemed to think the owner would come for him and pay his fees, but we knew from the owner that he would not. We also found out before that home he had been found by another man who had rehomed him. He ended up with a young man who had people in and out of the house all day. His roommate let us know that there was a stick he would discipline Kurt with. We were relieved when we finally got the go ahead to meet Kurt for the first time and take him back to our rescue.
The day I picked Kurt up he rode quite happily resting his head on me and smiling all the way home. I brought him to my house and played ball with him in the backyard and gave him a bath before taking him to our shelter. He was vocal but a real cutie. We stopped at a gas station and a guy came up to the car and told me that you could tell just by looking at him that he had loved me for a long time and would do anything for me. I told the man I had just met him for the first time. I probably shouldn't have, but he assured me that the dog loved me just the same and that he could always tell when someone had a close bond with their dog.
It was hard to leave him at the shelter, and it was even more challenging to watch him grow stir crazy. It broke my heart. He would tear holes in metal bowls with his teeth if you left them in his cage too long! We tried to find him a foster, and we were so happy when we did find one. She seemed to love him, and she said he was wonderful. Then, at 5:30 in the morning, I received a phone call saying that one of our dogs had been found, and I needed to come pick him up from the finder's house. Harriet and I were stunned to see Kurt when we arrived. The woman explained she had seen him running around the neighborhood for awhile. Hours later the fosters would report him missing and tell us they let him out off leash the night before because there was a snake outside they did not want to go near. They did not have a fenced in yard so when they opened the door to let him back in he was gone, and he never came back. We opted not to return him to them and moved him to a quiet area of the shelter where he could free-roam. Over time, he grew protective of his area and tired of the people who did not respect his space, like the volunteer we caught "training" him by giving him extended hugs. She thought you could embrace the fear/bad manners/pain out of a dog. We moved him back to kennels. Soon after that he bit a volunteer and sent her to the hospital. The bite was reported to the county and the management team had to discuss euthanasia. The county official told us that the bite was severe and recommended euthanasia. The trainer stated it was a Level 5 bite and also suggested euthanasia.
The staff was so attached to Kurt, and my wife and I were too. We struggled to understand what had happened. We knew he had been trough a great deal, and that he was bounced around far more than a dog should be. We dissected the event to the nth degree. Kurt was meeting the volunteer for the first time, there was food in his kennel, she reached over his head to unclip his harness, and later we would realize he was sore right where the clip was. It was the perfect storm of mistakes. We love the volunteer dearly, and we were devastated she got hurt. She has been volunteering longer than anyone else has been working there. She too was concerned about what would happen to Kurt. We presented everything we knew to the trainer, and she said a staff member could take him home and then we could re-evaluate in 2 months.
Next thing we knew, Kurt Vonnegut was coming home with us. We were not sure what to expect. Would he hurt us? Could he be dangerous? Could we take things from him? Discipline him? Bathe him? We suspected that there was nothing he or we could do to change the trainer and director's minds that he was a dangerous dog that needed to be euthanized and, 6 months later, I know that to be the truth. We needed to know ourselves though, and we held onto that sliver of hope that he would transform so dramatically that everyone would recognize it. In the meantime, it was amusing to tell people that Kurt Vonnegut was not housebroken or Kurt Vonnegut was cranky or Kurt Vonnegut was throwing a temper tantrum. I think the author would have appreciated it.
Kurt has grown to be our bratty, cantankerous baby, and we love him dearly. It sometimes seems like most other people have forgotten he exists, and we live in this planet apart from everyone else where we get to know him in a way no one else does. When he gets frustrated or upset, he barks louder than anything and causes us anxiety, worrying about our neighbors, . He is frequently frustrated since he has no impulse control and has a whole list of desires. He loves to get and destroy new toys. If you give him a plush toy it will muffle his barking because he cannot bring himself to drop it just to vocalize. He is like Marley and Me, but with some really REALLY heavy baggage. He is always bounding around, throwing that big old head about, and taking out everything resting on table tops, knocking over furniture, and causing chaos in his wake. He has persistent skin allergies and sporadic lameness. We have had him on medication the entire time we have had him. I am not saying he is easy. I am saying that he is wonderful and imperfect in the most perfect way. We often say that it is not the aggression that will be the issue in another home. It is his storm phobia, his destructiveness, his peeing in his crate, his medical bills. It is daunting.
It should not be, I suppose, because the decision has been made that he is not safe to have in the community and that we must say goodbye to our dear friend. You see, the problem with "monsters" is that when you know them they are not always so scary and sometimes they can be downright lovable. I am not angry with the people who have decided he cannot live safely in the world. I know where they are coming from. The bite was severe, and someone was hurt badly. I am only angry with myself. For letting him down and for allowing him to trust me when I have not been trustworthy. I should have got him out of the shelter before he got so frustrated that he hurt someone. I should have worked harder to train him in these 6 months. I do not know what they would have needed to see that would change his future, but I should have tried harder to get him to be a model citizen and to show it. I have adopted dogs in the same predicament as him in the past, though they had never hurt someone to the severity he had. We still live together, and they are my family, but I cannot adopt every dog that needs a home and has no one right there to offer it or they will all be unhappy. My only comfort is that it is clear he is not healthy and that his problems are getting worse. Once we say goodbye, he will not have to suffer another day. He will believe he was in his "forever home" and will never see a shelter again or have to move to another home.
We will be left in the silence of his wake, and we will be left to examine the "monster" inside of us that gives us the power to make decisions that impact the animals we care for so dearly. I know I will live with his memory for the rest of my life, and that I will always wonder if I should have done more. Rescue work is hard. We are told to look at the "big picture" and that dogs without aggression who are perfectly healthy are put down every day while we waste resources on dogs like Kurt, but the thing about living creatures is that they are all unique and deserving of respect. Life and death is never something that can be taken lightly, and it is never a waste to show an animal love and to give them some happiness, especially in their darkest moments. No matter how agonizing it is and how much of your heart it takes and turns black. It is better to show compassion. Kurt, I will miss you for always, and I will always love you. I am so sorry we all let you down. At one point, you were a small puppy. I did not know you then, but I know you deserved love, security, and a steady home. What happened to you was not right. I hope you had more moments of happiness than moments of sadness or frustration.
