Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Things that go BOOM!
Thunderstorms.
Fireworks. Gun shots. Loud noises that seemingly come from
nowhere. Noises that can totally freak
out our furry friends. With Patrick I am
lucky that none of these (knocking on wood before our second 4th of
July) seem to bother him. The last big
thunderstorm we had, I jumped from one particular loud crack of thunder and he
just looked at me. I think I can live
with that. My last foster dog, Belle,
was terrified of thunder. The storms
would start and she would just shake.
She wanted to be as close to you as she could possibly get (without
actually climbing on the bed or chair where she was not supposed to be). And a 35 lbs English Springer Spaniel trying
to hide in the smallest space possible doesn’t bode well for the breakable
items in the surrounding area. I did
allow her to climb onto the bed one night she was howling so badly. She shook the bed. And then did the on and off thing for the
rest of the storm. It was not a good night for either of us. I’m not sure
either of us slept.
The ‘family’ dog (technically my mom’s) Sammi is a beautiful
90 lbs Chesapeake-German Shepherd-Rottweiler.
Her big phobia is fireworks. The
4th of July is not a happy day in our family. And of course all the people lighting them
off several weeks before and after doesn’t help. She literally will not go outside after dusk
until close to midnight for the rest of the summer. Even fireworks on the TV set her panting. And let me tell you we have tried many
things. And sometimes meds are really
the only way to go. I used to dog sit
for a dog that would shake and pant so hard I seriously thought she was going
to hyperventilate or have a heart attack.
It was not pretty. The pills were
the ONLY thing that would calm her down.
But for the most part, none of my dogs have been that severe. Here’s what we have done:
1)
Noise – drown it out! With Belle that usually meant her and I would
head to the basement and I would turn on the TV. With Sammi that means shutting the windows
and turning on the AC and popping in a movie and turning the volume up. Play some music. Anything to reduce the noise outside by
increasing the volume inside. Warning though,
after a certain time at night, the neighbors are not crazy about this
option. Though I’m sure it was better
than the howling dog. This is what works
the best for us.
2)
Distraction – Great time to play. Grab the nearest toy and have some fun. Not only is Sammi getting some attention, but
I’m having fun too. This works well for
short term shakes. If we can play during
the 30 mins of fireworks that’s enough for Sammi, but during a long storm, this
is not always the best solution.
3)
Positive Reinforcement – similar to distraction,
but find a way to turn the problem into a positive. With Sammi that means Frosty Paws or a bone
filled with peanut butter. Giving her
something special to take her mind off the fireworks works great. Belle would get so into her bone she would
actually forget (until a particular loud boom) what was going on outside. Snuggling on the couch, special toys that
only come out during the stress, a long car ride with some great [loud] tunes
playing…these are all great ways to make the storm not so scary. BTW…this also works well with 5 year old
little girls, well maybe not the peanut butter bone…
4)
Desensitize – now I have to start off by saying
that this did not work for us at all.
Sammi’s anxiety begins the moment she hears a boom, no matter how
soft. Belle had some hearing loss due to
prolonged untreated infections, so low was still loud. But the idea is that if you can introduce the
noise in a low volume level and then slowly increase over the course of a few
weeks/months, it will desensitize the dog to the noise. I like the idea though. Especially when I think that if this was a
problem with Patrick, he would be alone at home during at least of a few of the
storms. And then there would literally
be nothing I could do. My only real
thoughts on this are it’s a great idea, but I would think you would have to do
it every year. Fireworks are really a midsummer
thing, and at least in the Midwest, there is rarely thunder with snow storms.
5)
Pressure/cover – My nana has had 2 dogs that
hid. Duke (Boxer) headed for under the
bed. Dutch (Spaniel-German Shorthair)
would go right to his cage. And that was
all they needed. To be covered. To be enclosed. If we could coax Duke out and when I was a
little kid, we would sit and hug the puppies.
That was enough to help. They
were both thunder dogs. And for both of
them, I think it was the static and not the noise. But to be covered (under covers of the bed or
just under something) was what they needed.
There are even a few companies out there now who sell the compression
vests just for this very idea. The idea
is to make the dog feel secure, however that works for you.
Now again, I am no expert.
I was just once a very frustrated dog owner. Sammi is 10 and well old habits and what not,
but turning the TV up on the 4th of July is enough to calm her
down. A bone or a Frosty Paw is just an
added bonus, but not enough to get to the state where she is not
stressing. Belle was a combination of
noise and distraction. Dutch and Duke it
was all about covering. I am grateful to
have these tools and to have tried them, even though I don’t need them right
now. Who knows whose little paws will
find their way to my door next? When my dog is stressed, I am stressed. And in the end, that not a good thing for
either of us.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
Here Goes Nothing
I never thought I would be one of 'those' pet people. The ones who buy sweaters and booties and make dog treats and buy special food and flash pictures faster than most parents...ok, so I still haven't gotten to the last part yet. But if you ask, I have about 300 on my phone and I can share for hours. I love my boy. Really love my boy. He did his circle thing and plopped down in the corner of my heart and that is where he will stay 'till death do us part. And like all good romance stories it wasn't expected or, unfortunately for him..or maybe not really, even wanted. So here is the story of 'Flex'.
'Flex' is a puppy mill puppy. Who knows what his lineage is (though the pet store called him a Beagle/Boxer mix). The only thing he was bred to do was look cute in a pet shop window so someone would buy him. And lucky for him, someone did. Out of the sometimes 25 'doggies in the window', he was deemed the sweetest and someone bought him, a cage, and a collar, gave him a name, and home he went. He lived in a house with 2 adults, 1 teenager, and an 11 year old American Bull Dog female. I am sure he received all kinds of love and attention. He was too sociable to not have. But one bad break up later, and 'Flex' found himself in that cage for most of the day. He was left behind when she moved out and the guy tried to do the right thing and feed him, let him out to go to the bathroom and play with him some, and most importantly tried to give him a home until she could be located and asked if she wanted 'Flex' to come to her. He honestly tried to do the ‘right’ thing. Between teenage son, job, and older less puppy tolerant American Bulldog ‘Flex’ was being neglected. It was time to find him a better home. This is where I came in. Or more correctly my aunt. Thanks to teenage sons in common, she met this puppy and vowed to find him a new home. After weeks of trying, with no success he was heading to the shelter. I was the last ditch effort to keep him from that fate, and I really didn't want another foster dog yet. Shelters do a wonderful job finding homes or rescue groups for all the animals brought to their care. I have known many animals from shelters and they are as loving and sweet as any animal from a breeder. But it’s traumatic for the animal. And if I could save ‘Flex’ from that, I felt I should. This was to be a TEMPORARY solution. Like any good foster mom, I was going to take him in, take him to the vet, and assess his personality…and then find him a nice home filled with people who would love him.
'Flex' is a puppy mill puppy. Who knows what his lineage is (though the pet store called him a Beagle/Boxer mix). The only thing he was bred to do was look cute in a pet shop window so someone would buy him. And lucky for him, someone did. Out of the sometimes 25 'doggies in the window', he was deemed the sweetest and someone bought him, a cage, and a collar, gave him a name, and home he went. He lived in a house with 2 adults, 1 teenager, and an 11 year old American Bull Dog female. I am sure he received all kinds of love and attention. He was too sociable to not have. But one bad break up later, and 'Flex' found himself in that cage for most of the day. He was left behind when she moved out and the guy tried to do the right thing and feed him, let him out to go to the bathroom and play with him some, and most importantly tried to give him a home until she could be located and asked if she wanted 'Flex' to come to her. He honestly tried to do the ‘right’ thing. Between teenage son, job, and older less puppy tolerant American Bulldog ‘Flex’ was being neglected. It was time to find him a better home. This is where I came in. Or more correctly my aunt. Thanks to teenage sons in common, she met this puppy and vowed to find him a new home. After weeks of trying, with no success he was heading to the shelter. I was the last ditch effort to keep him from that fate, and I really didn't want another foster dog yet. Shelters do a wonderful job finding homes or rescue groups for all the animals brought to their care. I have known many animals from shelters and they are as loving and sweet as any animal from a breeder. But it’s traumatic for the animal. And if I could save ‘Flex’ from that, I felt I should. This was to be a TEMPORARY solution. Like any good foster mom, I was going to take him in, take him to the vet, and assess his personality…and then find him a nice home filled with people who would love him.
The first thing I noticed about my new little friend was
that he was very pink. He was also
extremely anxious so I figured that explained most of it. He was skinny. He was being fed ‘whatever the other dog ate’
and that also meant at and when the other dog was fed. I am not sure he was getting enough
food. And the saddest thing I noticed,
he has no idea who ‘Flex’ was. Poor
little guy had spent so much time alone in his cage, he didn’t even know his
own name. I knew we had a long road
ahead of us to make things right for my new friend.
His first vet visit was actually via his surrogate
aunt. My sister brought him in to the
first appointment we could get. He was
terrified but was a trooper for her.
What we learned has lead us to where we are today. He might have Boxer in him somewhere (he
does, if you spend time with him it really comes out), but he is most certainly
a terrier mix mostly. His muscle tone
was very poor from being caged and fed an adult food most of his puppy life. He was under weight by about 6 lbs which is a
lot for a 30 lbs dog. But her theory as to why came as a bit of a
surprise: he is intolerant to gluten. The
food he was eating was actually making him sick. And it had been for the whole year and a half
he had been alive. Super foster mom mode
kicked in and after the initial prescription dog food to give his system a
rest, we delved into the world of being grain free. It took another 2 months to discover he was
also allergic to corn. The total number
of foods he could eat dwindled quickly.
This road has been arduous at times.
He is a very picky eater. Just
because the label said he could eat it, doesn’t mean he would. He’s not a fan of chicken, though he will eat
it. He hates fish. Not crazy for venison or lamb. It’s been a journey to arrive at healthy food
he will eat. I started this blog as an
outlet and in hopes it might help someone else.
I was utterly overwhelmed by the information I found when I started, and
not all of it was good. I am not one for
picketing Iams or Purina because they use inferior grade products in their
foods. I have known many dogs that lived
long and healthy lives on their big brand food.
I am not a whole foods person who won’t eat anything processed and by
extension and therefore my dog must have a raw diet as well. I am a pretty run of the mill 9-5 kind of
person who simply has to look at dog products in a different light because he
can’t have most ‘normal’ dog things. And
I struggled to find people who understood that.
Not that there is anything wrong with ‘crunchy’ people as my crunchy friends
would say. They are great people. They have wonderfully healthy pets. But so do people who just want a healthy
happy pet and can get that with a big brand food. They wouldn’t exist if they didn’t work. Unfortunately they didn’t work for my
dog. And yes, I say MY dog. My foster lasted about 2 months before I was
so smitten there was no way my new found friend was going to find a better
home, he already had one. And he has a
new name, one that he ‘chose’ himself: Patrick.
He’s a wonderful, healthy, active, loving companion. And this is our journey.
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