DOG GONE

good dog

A day of unforeseen sorrow. This morning I called Twin Oaks Vet to ask if they had room for a dog. They did. Thank you. I took Roscoe in the car. He was happy to be riding, curled up on the seat, happy to be with his human friend. I drove with my feeling for him shut off. It was too complicated a feeling for me to know how to handle it. All I could think was I need to be rid of the dog, now. I carried him in the door, carried him to the desk. Of course, the phone rang. I stood there holding him waiting for the girl to get off the phone. Dog was comfortable in my arms. No struggles. Happy to be held. We really had become friends, which I had to turn my back to. I couldn't keep the dog another day and night. From the time I got up this morning, feelings were not a consideration. Not the dog's feelings, not mine. I had to do what I had to do, take it to someplace where it's puppy dog eyes and that flop ear puts him way up high on the cuteness scale for somebody looking for a dog.

Tapo hadn't eaten since the dog arrived here, stayed hidden outside the first 3 nights. She's lost a good bit of weight. When I found her and brought her to the house, she hid the next 2 days. Caterpillar has been spooked the whole time. I saw I had brought disruption to our peaceful home. I supposed in a few weeks we'd have something worked out, but I couldn't wait that long. It was for the cats I took the dog away, and for myself. My hope was that the dog could become a protector of the cats, protect them from other dogs. But I also remembered telling Tapo and Caterpillar after TarBaby was killed, don't ever trust any dog. Then I bring one in the house. I think that's called sending mixed signals. Returning home in the afternoon after taking dog to the pound in the morning, Caterpillar and Tapo were gone. I felt lonely. I sat and watched the movie MICHAEL CLAYTON wondering where the cats are, calling them from time to time. Around 6 they both came straggling in from wherever they were, one at a time.

In the hours here alone, feeling came back and I kept seeing in my mind my last eye contact with my friend Roscoe. Norma had taken him out to the cage. I was walking from front door to car and looked over that direction and saw him. He saw me. He put his front feet up on the gate so glad to see his friend and I walked on out of sight. I felt like going over to him and saying good-bye, realizing I'd forgotten all about saying good-bye, explaining the situation. I couldn't. I just wanted to get it done and get out of there. Now I want to take some dog biscuits and drive out there to see him, to say good-bye. I've realized by now we had become friends and I'd turned my back on my friend without explanation, warning or anything. It didn't feel good at all. I think things like 2 years from now the dog won't remember. But right now the dog does remember me, his friend who saved him the day I brought him home. I offered him a home, then I threw him away. It's just not right.

I couldn't stand it any more. I had to run out there to see him if they were left out. I doubted they'd be left out, but wouldn't know without going there. It was a sad ride there, wanting to have at least a good-bye. I carried along some dog biscuits. They take the dogs in at night. Not a one in sight. If I want to see him, I have to return in the morning. I miss the little dog incredibly. I didn't realize how much I'd connected with the dog. One week and I'm mourning him as if it had been a year. Such a good dog I didn't want to give up, but thinking about the practical every day and every night part of it, the traumatized cats, me traumatized coming home finding trash strewn about on the floor, here at the house I tend not to miss him.

This morning a call from Winston-Salem hospital. They'd read my "device" and noticed increased heart rate frequently on the 2nd, 3rd and 4th. The 4th was the day the blaster went off. I explained about the dog, realizing I'd been on an emotional rollercoaster all of a sudden. The "device" went off once and almost a 2nd time. This confirmed that I needed to get rid of the dog. I'm ashamed to say that from then on I focused on myself, the inconvenience to myself, the danger to myself, the bother to myself. My attention was on myself all the way to the vet. Going out the door, that one second of eye contact, my attention was still on me. I wanted out of the uncomfortable situation. Later in the day my senses came to me and I realized what I'd done to the dog with consideration for myself only. It was a deep hurt within that I'd abandoned a friend. All I have left is to pray, which I do, that his time with me was a stepping stone to wherever he will live next, the people and the place just right for what he needs and wants for a good life. Please.

When I returned home after driving there and back in sorrow over what I'd done to my friend, I saw all over again that it is an impossible situation here for him. The cats come first. That's simply how it is. They have seniority. This is their home. They were born here. It's not right for me to put the cats through torment so I can have a dog. This morning before I left the house, Martha from next door had come by. Roscoe took to playing. They played chase. Ran in circles, ran and ran. I saw them getting acquainted the first time. I thought it something of a shame to separate them when they could be good friends, Martha the playmate Roscoe needed. I saw them in my mind becoming inseparable friends to ramble together to see the world around them. Then I saw Martha's sister, a 3rd dog, coming into the picture, them becoming a pack, me having to deal with that down the line. Didn't know how I was going to teach the dog to stay out of the road when cars are going by. Back here at the house, practical everyday life images pop up, telling me there's no way the dog can stay. I don't see any reason to fall down dead frustrated over a rowdy dog, which would have been the case Saturday without the blaster. I prefer to believe my prayer will be answered and the dog will have a good life.

DECISION MADE

water over rocks



It can't be helped. I'm taking the dog to the pound in the morning. Can't take it any more. Maybe it would be all right if I never had to leave the house. But sometimes I have to go here and go there. When I go someplace there is no keeping the dog out of the house. Even with the door locked the dog gets in. Today when I went off I left the door and the screen door open so the dog could at least get outside for a bowel movement if it felt so inclined. I come home and everything was about half the wreck I anticipated. I can't do it any more. The cats live here. It's their home. A dog completely out of control is not a good one to bring home to the cats. They stay hid all the time. To keep the dog out of their food I'd have to put it on top of the refrigerator.



I've come to realize training this dog will take more patience than I have. I don't want the dog bad enough to put my patience to the test every day. Getting in and out of the car is a struggle every time. Getting in and out of the house is a struggle keeping dog out when I don't want it in. It minds when I yell at it all out in practically a scream. I'm tired of yelling. I'm tired of raising my knee every time the dog jumps at me to push it back and when that stops working, pushing it with my feet, grocery bags in both hands trying to get in the door. It's not worth it. I just don't care any more. It's a cute dog and might make a good dog, but I don't have the time to wait for it.



2 days ago when I was attempting to get Tapo to the house past the dog, first by stuffing the dog in the pet carrier, which the dog refused to do. I became determined and the dog did too. I said, holding the carrier in one hand and trying to push the dog in with the other hand, "You will go in there." BAM!!! The blaster went off, the defibrillator. First thought of what felt like a fist hitting me in the middle of the chest, What was that? Then I got it. I sat down and thought about it a few minutes, thinking I need to stop believing I can force or control this dog. I've brought a serious disruption into the house and I'm not ready for it. The cats aren't either. I want to castrate him and there's nothing to castrate. It's the struggle I'm tired of. The blast I got told me I'm not up to this. I'm not willing to try another blast. It's not that much fun. Of course, it was my own unconsciousness that triggered it. It showed me I need to pay closer attention to my limits, and that the dog takes me into unconsciousness before I'm aware I've gone there.



I wouldn't mind him being an outside dog. I could barricade the windows. I'd have to keep him tied with a chain. I don't want a dog that bad. It's caused me to rethink my belief that I need a dog. Martha comes over here every day. She acts as my dog during the day and is not a threat to the cats. I'm tired of the struggle. It's been nothing but struggle since I brought the dog home. Puppydog eyes. It seems like it has grown half a foot in length since I found him. He's grown a lot in a week. I don't see us bonding. Dog might have bonded with me to some extent, but I have not yet reached the place I couldn't let the dog go. I don't like the constant struggle and it's causing me to like the dog less. Tonight I dreaded coming home from Justin and Crystal's for what I wouldn't let myself imagine was waiting for me at the house. I thought, seeing it, it will be bad enough, so don't magnify it by thinking about it. It wasn't really bad. I'd emptied the trash containers. He'd got hold of one of my shoes, but not bad. He had a bottle of 409 on the floor in the living room. It's what I'd used to clean up his pee from the floor yesterday.



Enough is enough is enough. I'm wore out. I bought a good mess of food for him yesterday, and I'll take it all to the pound with him. I wanted a dog, not a metaphor for mayhem cut loose in all directions at all times. Going to town tomorrow for lunch. Will leave an hour early and deliver the dog on the way. I don't have what it takes to train this dog to what it takes for a dog to live with me. When a car is approaching he'll walk out in front of it like he thinks it's his friend. The car has to stop, I have to go pick him up and carry him out of the road. It means nothing to him. I'm beginning to understand that sometimes a kid can be more than the parents can handle and the cause of unconscious reactions, making a problem child worse. This is my final mistake believing I need a dog. I feel no certainty that the dog won't hurt the cats. The primary reason I recognize it's time to pass the dog on is finding I don't like it any more. It's too much trouble, too much wrestling, too much yelling, the only thing it responds to when it comes to obedience, too much concern for the cats hiding all the time, dog gobbling up their food and drinking from their water bowl.

TRAINING TIME

dog



Took R0scoe on a walk through the woods again today. He's still not sure what we're doing. He's only a few months old and this his 3rd day in captivity. This is going to be a loyal dog. He stays close to my feet, wants to be where I am. I believe he's going to be an alpha dog too. When the time is here he'll be a eunuch, like in the Bible. This way I won't have to take him to the vet to get wounds from fights sewed up, and he won't be rambling to Pine Swamp and Whitehead to find a bitch in heat to impregnate. Neutered dogs make the best pets, and I'm not raising a hunting dog or a fighting dog. I'm raising a peaceful dog that doesn't threaten unless he's protecting home. The cats need a protector. The outdoors has become dangerous for them due to dogs. Roscoe will take to the cats.



He's learning really fast today. He's paying close attention now. When he learns my language in phrases, we'll have good communication going. He taught me right off that he responds instantly to a barking tone of voice. By today he's learned that the sounds I make have meaning. A sharp Stop It and he's done. Pushing him down when he jumps on me becomes play and he keeps on trying to get past my hands. I holler Stop It and it's over instantly. Mama taught him well. By today he's learned less commanding sounds for stop it down to a grunt that he gets. He looks at me now for approval or disapproval. He's paying attention. I'll be able to train him easily. He wants to please with all his heart. I'm grateful I learned so soon that a simple bark is all he needs to get him to stop whatever it is. The difference between yesterday and today in his obedience is remarkable.



I don't know that I've ever had a dog this young to start out. I'll forever see the video in my mind of what I saw in the rearview mirror alerted by the barking and yipping, puppy running with all its might, feet flying, ears flapping like wings, desperation and determination in his eyes. It was funny to see and at once heart rending. Of course, I stopped. Puppy went crazy all around my feet. I've been waiting for a dog to come to me. Running its heart out after me when I drive by is a pretty fair indicator to me the dog wanted me to take it home. It was just the next car to pass by, not that I in particular was in it. Nonetheless, I had the feeling that goes with finding my dog, this is my dog. By now, there's no parting us.



Allan next door said he found 5 of them at the bottom of the back road and took some food to them. He went to facebook telling about them. It turns out 2 of them found a home in one house up here at Air Bellows and the remaining 2 another home. It's become a case of whoever put them out was doing the right thing while appearing to do the wrong thing. I'll be grateful for the rest of my life and I would suppose the people who took in the others will be happy with their dogs. I can see in Roscoe already he's going to be a good dog. He's already my dog. He was my dog when I put him in the car. Tomorrow I get a halter and a leash. I need to teach him to get used to a leash. If I want to take him places with me, like to town for a round trip, or to the vet, or anywhere in our human centric world. I don't like to control them with a collar because it chokes them into submission. With a halter, I can take charge with one hand and not have to choke him down. He'll hate it at first, but will get used to it. It's part of living in civilization.



I didn't train Aster when she was young and it was impossible to hold her on a leash after she was several years old. I've learned a fair amount about dog behavior living with 3 dogs along the way. My pet cemetery grows, as does my understanding of dogs. By now I understand puppies need training. Not training by hitting and scolding, but rewarding what pleases me and barking like mama dog when he doesn't please me. Having his attention is all I need to teach him what a dog needs to know to live here. Numero uno: leave the cats alone. From there, the cats being part of home, he'll protect them with the same zeal as protecting me and the house. They will get used to him gradually. I won't push them. They will take care of it in their own time. Bringing a puppy dog in on 2 old cats will be an adventure for all concerned.

ROSCOE THE DOG

puppydog eyes



This is my new friend Roscoe. Thursday afternoon driving home from town, I took the back road coming up the mountain by a whim. I went around the curve at the bottom of the mountain at Whitehead and saw Rick Harris on a tractor headed up the mountain. Going by him I decided to take the back road so he wouldn't have to deal with the dust. I seldom take the back road, but sometimes like to. As soon as I crossed the bridge Waterfalls Creek passes under, a big puppy came running behind the car, running with all its might, ears flopping, yipping, squealing, barking. He wasn't going to let me get away. This is a place where people put out puppies and kittens. I stopped the car, got out. The puppy was frantic to be touched, to be seen, like the Who's Tommy: see me, feel me, touch me, heal me. The eyes looking at me with all-out pleading, intelligent eyes and a strong sense for self-preservation. I put him in the car. He curled up on the seat beside me and stayed there all the way home.



I thought about keeping the dog overnight and taking it to Twin Oaks next day. I've been needing a dog to walk with. I'm not able to go walking by myself. It's boring. A dog makes a walk an enjoyment. I've never been able to exercise for exercise sake. Walking on a treadmill is worse than walking on a paved road without a dog. I knew Caterpillar and Tapo would hate it. It's still summer and the dog can stay outside so the cats can have indoors secure from dog invasion. Tapo was outside when I brought the dog home. She couldn't come back to the house, because the dog was outside the door. Today I had to search for her. Found her in a place only a snake could have reached her. I was calling to her. She called back and I followed her voice until I found her. I was carrying her to the door. Here comes the dog. Tapo jumped down and ran under the bathroom.



I took the dog and tied a rope around his neck and the other end to a tree. Houdini dog was almost out of the rope by the time I got Tapo into the house. I took the cat carrier out there and put her in it so I could pass the dog without her going nuts all over me. As soon as I let her out, she went to the bathroom to her hiding place behind the tub where no dog can go. She's been there ever since. At least she's in the house and I know she's still living. She has always been the first one to get along with a dog that enters the house. If she'd been in the house she wouldn't be so freaked. She'll be a few days approaching the rest of the house. Caterpillar tends to stay close to hiding places, easy getaway places. They're both spooked. I'm pulled in several directions.



This dog is so rampageous he wants to jump on me all the time. All the time. I push him down every time and tell him feet belong on the ground. He responds to barking instantly. When I holler STOP IT, that's the end of it. It's really the only thing he responds to instantly. It doesn't take any convincing. I can push him down a hundred times and he keeps coming back. I holler Stop It like a bark and that's it. For the moment. He rides well in the car. Only issue is when I get out, the dog turns into a snake pushing its way with his snout determined to go with me. It turns into a wrestling match that wears both of us out. I took him along yesterday when I went to town for whatever it was, using the trip to make the decision whether or not to take him on to Twin Oaks Vet to be a pound dog. We hadn't bonded yet, so it would have been easy to pass him on. I chose to come on back. On the way home I realized this is now my dog and the cats will have to get used to it. I'll give them full consideration.



Realizing this was now my new dog I started searching for a name. Nothing would come to me. My mind went blank. Sitting at the computer yesterday I told myself to remember names I've thought in the past I'd like to name a male dog. Right away the name Roscoe came up. There it was. His left ear flops over on top of his head. It grew that way. Melia Edwards told me her dog, Buddy, had an ear like that. It corrected itself as Buddy grew. I wouldn't mind if Roscoe's ear stayed like that. Took him in to town today, had to leave the car twice for a few minutes. He didn't shred the interior. Though when I opened the door it was like wrestling a boa to keep him in the car and make room for me to get in. Finally I sat on his head, not hard to crush him, but enough to hold him down a short time to teach him to keep his head away from where I'm sitting, like stay out from under my feet. Right now he walks up close behind me and will not pass me when we're walking. He doesn't know where I'm going and it would be preposterous of him to want to be out in front like dogs do. He will in a day or 2. I'm taking him on short walks the same way each day to help him have some places that are familiar. He'll make a good dog to walk with when he knows his new landscape better. He's a roly poly. Roscoe needs the walking practice as much as I do. We'll learn to walk together.



I'm guessing he's 2 months old, not much more. My neighbor Allan told me about 5 puppies that had been put out where I found Roscoe. I told him I have one. He told me the Episcopal--I don't know what they call them--minister who is up here at Air Bellows let his kids take 2 of them. Allan has been telling about them on facebook. I've found so many dogs and cats along there that have been put out it's like I know on sight one seen there is homeless. It's a place where there are no houses, out of sight where nobody will see the act. I've found homes for several and Allan has too. I don't even question who might have done it. Anybody might have done it. My concern is it's an abandoned baby. Puppies can't find food. Roscoe has been kept in a pen with the mother and 5 pups. Roscoe is a classic black and tan mix of everything. It seems like in dogs when all kinds of breeds are mixed in one body the hair is black and tan. That's the kind I like, a mix of several races. Roscoe is so inexperienced that every experience is new. He's a fur ball of mayhem.



Stopped by CJ Hardware to get some Frontline flea/tick one-spot. That's where I sat on Roscoe's head. He was covered with fleas. This poison starts spreading in ways I don't understand and don't want to. The fleas freak out and run around like ants on the outside of a kettle that's heating up. That's been the dog's day since we got home and I put it on him. He wrings and twists, sometimes lets out a yelp from the severe discomfort of fleas running for their lives all over his skin. This goes on for several hours. By morning the fleas will be gone, dog will be without vampire bugs biting him and crawling on his skin through the forest of puppy fur.