Week one turned into week two, week two turned to week three. Tommy continued to sneak his way onto the bed, whilst Tetley slept undisturbed through the night. The patter of little feet woke me several times every night and I responded by getting up and wandering in my 'jarmas' to let them (mainly Tommy, to have a wee). Surely to goodness this would stop when they settled? The 'buttock to nose' game had gradually been forgotten and been replaced by how quickly can I get the quilt of her and get the afore mentioned buttocks cold. This game Tommy was especially good at and I decided to sleep with a shawl that I could drape over my chilled area during the night if I didn't manage to nudge him off the bed. He has a grip like a limpet, and can play dead better than the best of them. So, getting the quilt back was not an easy option.
During the day time tides of dog pee found itself on and around anything you could possibly think of. A chair in the room was a favourite, fortunately it was a leather cloth thing so me washing it down constantly with biological washing powder was a chore but a necesary one (as recommended by a book I sat and read one Sunday in 'Pets at home'. One of several I managed to gleen information from without having to purchase. The floor wasn't very comfortable though and the queue for the till ran by me so the occasional kick of a snail line of pet lovers boots would occasionally catch me unawares, but a small price for the knowledge I managed to amass that afternoon).
I used the money I saved from not buying the books on some drops that would ease the most frayed nerves on any dog I was told, some dental chews - shocking breath one of them had- a pet behaviour spray that stops tehm peeing everywhere - oh yeh!!! does it eck!, and I managed to treat myself to a free packet or two of dog food on a promotional stand. A bargain hunter extraordinaire!
A new thing had appeared. Every time I moved they barked. Not threatening nor did they scare me. I was puzzled why and wandered between the thoughts of that they had been abandoned if you wish, that this was a big change and they didn't want me to disappear as well or, they were communicating they wanted food, water, a wee, a walk or anything, but nothing fitted. The bags of coins worked well until the fifth week and it all went Pete Tong. In a BIG WAY. Hysterical barking when anyone came to the door called us to engage in herding them into the living room, so they couldn't get to who was at the door. They would continue to bark but whoever was shivering in their boots would feel reasonably safe that they were behind a door or two away from them. Then when Number three son came to stay one weekend, Postie knocked on the door, number three son with sleep and other strange stuff he had accumulated over the weeks since we last saw him answered the door and out popped Tommy. Well, popped sounds like it was a slight ooops, her he comes. Apparently he launched himself mid air and attached himself via a flaring pair of teeth to the pooor fellows calf muscle. I was working in the summer house in the back garden and heard some commotion on the pathway but didn't realise what it was until I returned an hour later. "The dog's bit the postman" I was greeted with, sent shivers of horror down my body. I can cope with most things but biting is an end to a relationship as far as I was concerned. We had been searching for a animal behaviourist to come and offer support for a couple of weeks but had been given such comments as "oh they are too old to change their behaviour now" to "try shouting and slapping them". Well apart from never having or wanting to do this to my previous dog, I had read enough books and web sites by now to know that wasn't the way to go, and surely we can teach old dogs new tricks?
The search for a dog behaviourist hotted up as I was on the brink of 'phoning Edith to say Tommy's coming back to you. I couldn't deal with biting, it was a step too far. Three days later a friend called to bring me a present for my birthday, in exchange Tommy bit her son in the same place as the postie. That was it, I was distraught. He had to go. Geoff came home from work to the news that Tommy had bitten again we both resigned ourselves to the fact we were not equipped to deal with him. Was this why his owners had decided to give them up? We had long discovered the long walks they would have had were a myth as in the first week of taking them for a walk neither dog had energy to take them more than a short walk from the house. Up hill was taking their breath and running was a dim and distant memory for both of them. The poor coat Tetley arrived with took just a week to clear, yet a bald patch on his tail - the story given was that it was a bad case of flees also became suspect as the tail actually looked damaged underneath and the hair hasn't grown back still to this day. Since day one with them they had both flinched if either of us went to stroke them, not just nervousness at us being strangers, but something else was underneath it we felt. Tommy could crawl on his belly like snake if anyone raised their voices a sight that made us both feel sick to the stomach. We had never seem a dog cower in this way before.
One night whilst stroking his chest Geoff asked me what I thought of the bump he had found on one of Tommy's ribs. As a therapist I know what ribs should feel like - I work on them several times a day, I also knew what a fractured bone felt like and found one on the other side as well.
Sickened and saddened by what may have happened in their past we endeavoured to make their new home as peaceful as we could.
The biting was something else though, and I struggled to see who we could hold onto him knowing he had attacked twice in one week. Tetley was settling in superbly, no nervousness, sleeping like a log all night, no peeing every where, his barking was less and less. When we walked him instead of sitting on the grass looking exhausted and not wanting to move, he had a occasional bursts of running, his tail wagging behind him, positively enjoying his time. Tommy was growling more and more at seemingly nothing, grumbling and making the strange dolphin noises looking worried constantly.
I had to be strong,it was no good feeling sorry for him we couldn't let this go by and not act. I reluctantly went to the 'phone to call Edith, when it rang. It was one of the behaviourist people I had emailed. I explained the reason we wanted to see someone was because Tommy was obviously not settling well and we wanted to know what we were doing wrong and how to help him. I also mentioned unfortunately, I thought it was too late has he had bitten someone. The voice at the other end of the 'phone took charge of me and said they were used to dealing with similar situations and that the biting was something they could work with. I was sceptical but was also afraid that Tommy's options were limited, who would want to house a dog that 2 homes had given him up and one was for attacking people. His fate seemed to be a dark one.
We were mildly encouraged by the lady's claims to help us, but I couldn't allow myself feel false hope. We were fastidious in keeping him away from people who called at the house. I apologised profusely to the postman who said he hadn't reported us as he knew how we were ordinarily with our dogs and that he was sure it was our son who hadn't followed our usual procedures that had caused the situation. I breathed a temporary sigh of relief and acknowledged the narrow escape Tommy had already had.
Outside he was a different dog. He could walk past people and other dogs and completely ignore them, he wasn't bothered at all, nor was he aggressive. We waited for Saturday to arrive and our training session was to begin.
During the day time tides of dog pee found itself on and around anything you could possibly think of. A chair in the room was a favourite, fortunately it was a leather cloth thing so me washing it down constantly with biological washing powder was a chore but a necesary one (as recommended by a book I sat and read one Sunday in 'Pets at home'. One of several I managed to gleen information from without having to purchase. The floor wasn't very comfortable though and the queue for the till ran by me so the occasional kick of a snail line of pet lovers boots would occasionally catch me unawares, but a small price for the knowledge I managed to amass that afternoon).
I used the money I saved from not buying the books on some drops that would ease the most frayed nerves on any dog I was told, some dental chews - shocking breath one of them had- a pet behaviour spray that stops tehm peeing everywhere - oh yeh!!! does it eck!, and I managed to treat myself to a free packet or two of dog food on a promotional stand. A bargain hunter extraordinaire!
A new thing had appeared. Every time I moved they barked. Not threatening nor did they scare me. I was puzzled why and wandered between the thoughts of that they had been abandoned if you wish, that this was a big change and they didn't want me to disappear as well or, they were communicating they wanted food, water, a wee, a walk or anything, but nothing fitted. The bags of coins worked well until the fifth week and it all went Pete Tong. In a BIG WAY. Hysterical barking when anyone came to the door called us to engage in herding them into the living room, so they couldn't get to who was at the door. They would continue to bark but whoever was shivering in their boots would feel reasonably safe that they were behind a door or two away from them. Then when Number three son came to stay one weekend, Postie knocked on the door, number three son with sleep and other strange stuff he had accumulated over the weeks since we last saw him answered the door and out popped Tommy. Well, popped sounds like it was a slight ooops, her he comes. Apparently he launched himself mid air and attached himself via a flaring pair of teeth to the pooor fellows calf muscle. I was working in the summer house in the back garden and heard some commotion on the pathway but didn't realise what it was until I returned an hour later. "The dog's bit the postman" I was greeted with, sent shivers of horror down my body. I can cope with most things but biting is an end to a relationship as far as I was concerned. We had been searching for a animal behaviourist to come and offer support for a couple of weeks but had been given such comments as "oh they are too old to change their behaviour now" to "try shouting and slapping them". Well apart from never having or wanting to do this to my previous dog, I had read enough books and web sites by now to know that wasn't the way to go, and surely we can teach old dogs new tricks?
The search for a dog behaviourist hotted up as I was on the brink of 'phoning Edith to say Tommy's coming back to you. I couldn't deal with biting, it was a step too far. Three days later a friend called to bring me a present for my birthday, in exchange Tommy bit her son in the same place as the postie. That was it, I was distraught. He had to go. Geoff came home from work to the news that Tommy had bitten again we both resigned ourselves to the fact we were not equipped to deal with him. Was this why his owners had decided to give them up? We had long discovered the long walks they would have had were a myth as in the first week of taking them for a walk neither dog had energy to take them more than a short walk from the house. Up hill was taking their breath and running was a dim and distant memory for both of them. The poor coat Tetley arrived with took just a week to clear, yet a bald patch on his tail - the story given was that it was a bad case of flees also became suspect as the tail actually looked damaged underneath and the hair hasn't grown back still to this day. Since day one with them they had both flinched if either of us went to stroke them, not just nervousness at us being strangers, but something else was underneath it we felt. Tommy could crawl on his belly like snake if anyone raised their voices a sight that made us both feel sick to the stomach. We had never seem a dog cower in this way before.
One night whilst stroking his chest Geoff asked me what I thought of the bump he had found on one of Tommy's ribs. As a therapist I know what ribs should feel like - I work on them several times a day, I also knew what a fractured bone felt like and found one on the other side as well.
Sickened and saddened by what may have happened in their past we endeavoured to make their new home as peaceful as we could.
The biting was something else though, and I struggled to see who we could hold onto him knowing he had attacked twice in one week. Tetley was settling in superbly, no nervousness, sleeping like a log all night, no peeing every where, his barking was less and less. When we walked him instead of sitting on the grass looking exhausted and not wanting to move, he had a occasional bursts of running, his tail wagging behind him, positively enjoying his time. Tommy was growling more and more at seemingly nothing, grumbling and making the strange dolphin noises looking worried constantly.
I had to be strong,it was no good feeling sorry for him we couldn't let this go by and not act. I reluctantly went to the 'phone to call Edith, when it rang. It was one of the behaviourist people I had emailed. I explained the reason we wanted to see someone was because Tommy was obviously not settling well and we wanted to know what we were doing wrong and how to help him. I also mentioned unfortunately, I thought it was too late has he had bitten someone. The voice at the other end of the 'phone took charge of me and said they were used to dealing with similar situations and that the biting was something they could work with. I was sceptical but was also afraid that Tommy's options were limited, who would want to house a dog that 2 homes had given him up and one was for attacking people. His fate seemed to be a dark one.
We were mildly encouraged by the lady's claims to help us, but I couldn't allow myself feel false hope. We were fastidious in keeping him away from people who called at the house. I apologised profusely to the postman who said he hadn't reported us as he knew how we were ordinarily with our dogs and that he was sure it was our son who hadn't followed our usual procedures that had caused the situation. I breathed a temporary sigh of relief and acknowledged the narrow escape Tommy had already had.
Outside he was a different dog. He could walk past people and other dogs and completely ignore them, he wasn't bothered at all, nor was he aggressive. We waited for Saturday to arrive and our training session was to begin.
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