This is the first time in nearly three months, that we haven't had a dog here. It feels strange....quiet...and freeing! It's nice to have our house back again and to turn our attention to other things that have been neglected.
Technically, Duke was supposed to be with us another week, but he went home on Tuesday. His owners decided to give him up. While this was a hard decision, I have no doubt that it was the right decision. I haven't felt so much turmoil over such a situation before. The couple had a six year old son with another on the way, and this dog was fearful and dominant over children.
Having Duke for the one week that he was here was probably the most stressful week that I've had in a long time. I had to constantly protect the kids. And any time he went after the kids, I had to reprimand him by putting him on the floor. Sorry positive reinforcement people, sometimes there's no other way!
Duke was always on a leash and any time the kids passed by, I had to have them make a wide circle to bypass him so he wouldn't lunge at him. Working in baby steps was a key here and it seemed to be working. But every so often, he would go after the kids with no warning.
There was one time when I was talking to the kids about Duke. They were in the living room, and I was in the foyer, holding onto Duke with the leash. Anna crossed over to sit with me on the bench and I thought nothing of it, since I was busy talking. All of a sudden, Duke lunged out at Anna and without even thinking, I blocked him with my fist. Imagine this in slow motion: Anna comes to sit with me. Duke sees Anna "too close." Duke launches for Anna, opening his mouth and aiming for her face. I block her, putting my fist out in front of her face. Duke's mouth encloses around my entire fist. This would have been Anna's face.
You might be wondering why I didn't send Duke home that very day. Well, so many reasons. Reasons of obligation; wanting to give Duke a chance, wanting to give training a chance, wanting to give his owners some hope. It was only his second day with us and I didn't want to send him home without even working on him.
He got better when we took things slow with the kids. We even got to the point where I could walk Duke on one leash and Anna holding the other leash. In some ways, he got used to the kids. But the unpredictable dominance was very hard and I constantly had to watch him.
But then one day he bit me. Me, who he had bonded with and trusted. It was just one of those moments when he was in one of his unpredictable moods. He was licking a sore and when I went to inspect the sore (he allowed me to do this before with no problem), he bit me. My hands were bruised and a bit swollen after the bite but it didn't break the skin. However, that was only because he used to chew on metal in his previous home, out of pure boredom, and ground down his teeth to the point where they were flattened. I'm sure that if he had normal teeth, he would have broken the skin.
That day was a hard day for me, because we had a week to go with Duke, and I didn't see how I could tell his owners with a clear conscious that he was "safe" for their six year old and soon to be born baby. I was sure if they were very good with leadership, disciplined him for every lunge, gave him lots of exercise, and kept him on a leash, then it could work. But that was no way to live for either of them. Duke was unhappy in this family and the family was scared of Duke. And yet, they had so much hope that he could be rehabilitated.
I know the answer seems so obvious, but when you are wrapped in a problem and people are putting their hope in you, it's hard to let them down. It's hard to say, "I'm sorry, but I can't train your dog. No one can train your dog. You need to give your dog up."
So I went where I usually go when I'm weighted down with problems. I went to the graveyard to pray to my friends.
The graveyard is not just a graveyard to me, it is the place were all those who died are now saints. To me, other than church, it is holy ground. You can't be closer to the saints than in a graveyard. And these holy souls are so willing to help us with our problems. They have been there, living ordinary lives just like us, and now know what they could have done differently and want to help us avoid mistakes like they did. In return, they hope and ask for our prayers. So, when I have a problem, I go to the graveyard to make a "deal" to the holy souls that I will pray a rosary for their release, if they will pray for my intention.
As a "down payment", I prayed one decade of the rosary right there in the graveyard, and then proceeded to tell them my problem about Duke. I had decided that I had to be upfront with the owners and let them know I would still finish training with Duke, but that I didn't feel he would ever be safe with their son and baby. Duke had problems--lots of problems. And yet, he was a good dog that never had a chance. He had been neglected and ignored and mistreated (not by his current owners), and unfortunately, all of this took a toll on him mentally. Duke was not a family dog anymore; he could only be a one-man dog, living in a house with a yard, not in an apartment with little children.
But it would take courage to do this which I didn't feel I had. And so I asked that the Holy Souls find a way for me to do this; to find a solution for Duke. I wasn't sure what that answer was. I wasn't sure what the outcome for Duke or his family would be. I wasn't sure if they were going to take him home and then weeks later, tell me that he bit their son and that somehow, I would be held responsible for it. I wasn't sure what to do and I felt in over my head.
I went home and decided to make a video of Duke, explaining what happened with Duke biting me, what set him off, and that his unpredictability continued to be a factor. I told them that he was definitely trainable and that I was willing to finish the training if they wanted me to, but that I was almost 100% that he would go right back to his old habits as soon as he got home since apartment life was not what he needed right now. I explained that he needed open yards where he could sit outside and relax, openness where he didn't feel trapped. I planned to send the video later that night as I always did, and prayed that his owners would receive the news with an open mind.
And then, only a few hours later, I got an unexpected email from the husband who said that he and his wife and been talking about Duke, and decided that they would rehome him. They asked me to keep Duke to the end of the of the week as planned, while they looked for a new home for him as they didn't want him in a shelter, where he would most likely get worse or maybe even be put down.
I had never even sent the video.
For sure I felt certain that this unexpected turn of event was due to my friends, the Holy Souls, who interceded for me. I was sad for Duke but so relieved. I had no doubt that his owners made the right choice. I had temper down the relief I felt in my email when I assured the owners that they were doing the right thing.
I told my sister who called later about the experience with Duke and the Holy Souls. I told her that we were going to keep Duke for a few more days while we waited for his owners to find him a home.
"What he needs is a man," I told her. "He does best with men. They have a natural authority about them, and he's never growled or bitten Dennis or his owner."
"You should pray to the Holy Souls for a man to adopt him, then!" My sister encouraged me. "A man who has a big yard so Duke will get the space that he needs."
I wasn't sure I could push my luck with the holy souls....could I? I had to remind myself that they are not like us in this way; they don't have limits on what they will do for you, as long as it coincides with the will of God.
So I prayed again to the Holy Souls, asking for again another favor. That Duke may be adopted by a man with a big yard for Duke to play in. I didn't want him to be rehomed in a rescue, by a well-meaning woman who would coddle him and then he would eventually bite, only to be transferred from rescue to rescue. But I was pretty sure that a rescue was the route his owners would take.
I shouldn't have been surprised when I got another email from his owners the next day, saying that they found a place for Duke, and they would come and get him the following morning. Again, I felt relief but some sadness for Duke. I hoped wherever he was going, he would have a chance for a happy life. But at the same time, I would be so happy to let my kids wander around the house again, without worrying about them being bit.
It wasn't until they picked up Duke that I dared to ask where he would be placed. And I couldn't believe their answer, though I shouldn't have been so surprised: He would go to live with a man who worked at the shelter where Duke was adopted--but live with him in his own home, where he had a house and a yard for Duke to run and play--and in the meantime, work with Duke to get him rehabilitated again. A single man in a house with a yard.
It was hard suppressing the rush of joy that I felt and said enthusiastically, "That's great!" Then I said a little more calmly, "He would do best with a man, I've been hoping all along that he would be placed with one."
And so, Duke now lives with a man in a much less stressful environment, where he can sit in a yard and smell the air, be free from children, and get the leadership that he's looking for. And Duke's former owners have forced themselves to move on, knowing that they did the best they could for Duke, and knowing he is placed in a good home. And believe it or not, they are already looking for another dog. Because they so want to give their six year old a dog who will love him and be gentle with him. They gave me the good news today that they will be fostering a Lab/Golden who has already grown up with both children and babies! Now how's that for a happy ending?!
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