Annie loved her crate. It was her safe place and she would go in there when she needed confidence and comfort. In the first few days she might venture out for a minute, but then return shortly after and settle back down into her bed. She would tuck her nose into the bumper and rub it around. I think she loved the feel of something soft on her face and this was probably her very first bed that was all her own. We didn’t close the door to her crate very often, she spent so much time in there, I wanted her to feel free to explore if and when she had the courage to do so.
We began calling her crate “home base”. When I called her, she would cock her head and consider what she should do. Eventually she would stand up, take a couple of steps out, but then return again to her crate. I’d give her some time, and then she’d try it again, coming out a little further and then return again to regroup. Watching her do this reminded me of my son when he played youth baseball. He’d lead off of the base with each pitch and then tag up again if the pitch was missed. Annie was “tagging up” at her base.
In the first couple of months it might take 5 or 6 tries to get her to come all the way around the house (she still refused to cut through the short hallway), whether it was to go out, eat a meal, leave the house for a walk, or try to get her into the yard so that we could then get into the car. At times it was frustrating but I was learning that she was willing to follow me, she just needed to take her time and some days required more time than others. Sometimes she would tremble in between tries, sometimes not. There was no predicting if she would come on the first attempt or the 9th.
When she began spending more time outside her crate, she would tag up if there was any sort of change. If someone came into the house, she would tag up before coming out to see who was here. If she heard one of us coming downstairs and she was outside her crate she would tag up. If she was coming around the perimeter of the house to get into the kitchen and one of us was standing in a place she wasn’t exptecting, she would get startled and turn around and tag up before she would try it again. She was gaining confidence, but she needed the comfort of her crate to give her an extra boost.
She was getting more comfortable with the leash so if we needed to go somewhere (usually the vet) and I was short on time I would give her 3 or 4 tries and then clip her on leash. Once on the leash she would follow me straight out the door. I wanted her to learn to come on her own so I didn’t do this often. After a couple of months I discovered that if I put her leash in my hand and stood outside her crate, she would follow me. Once in the yard she might pause a few times when she saw me heading for the car and I would need to use the leash. This usually meant that she and I would do a few circles in the yard before she would let me clip her on the leash. Eventually she got to the point that she would come all the way through the yard and to the car without having to be leashed. This is when I knew we were finally gaining her trust. She felt safe with us and was beginning to overcome her fear of the unknown.
ting a new set of stairs and doorway as well as learning about a new room had exhausted her but she was able to relax and had shown me once again that with time and patience she was willing to try new things. The very next day she followed me down with no hesitation, climbed up on the couch and curled up next to me as if there was never an issue.
She was alert and panting for the entire trip, and when we pulled into our driveway she was ready to get out. She showed no excitement about exploring a new place. We got her into the yard and she went potty, but she was very nervous about what was going to happen. She had to go up our porch steps to get into the house. I knew she didn’t do the stairs at the other house, but we didn’t know if she knew how or was physically able. She definitely didn’t want to and she put on the brakes and sat down. Trying to move her was like trying to move a huge bag of cement but between the two of us we got her up the stairs. Now it was time to go through the door, and I was reminded that she didn’t like new doors. Again, we wrestled with getting her up on all fours and helped her get through the door. Maisie led her into our family room. I made a bed for her using the blankets we had in the car, thinking that would be familiar and I set it up next to Maisie’s crate. I wasn’t sure if we would get another crate, I was sensitive to her feeling locked up and wanted her to be comfortable. She wasn’t interested in dinner, but she did climb into the bed and started to take in her surroundings.
I knew this was stressful, so I decided to sleep on the couch in the same room so that she wouldn’t feel alone. She had always slept with a pack of dogs and this was very different. She panted very heavily but finally fell asleep around midnight. On three different occasions she let out a lonely howl and I knew she was crying in her sleep. She missed her pack and her home and it broke my heart. She hasn’t done that again since that first night, but it was hard to hear and it was another reminder of all that this sweet dog had endured in her life.
Getting her to come out of her crate was tricky. She was very cautious and it would take several tries to get her to come out willingly to eat or go outside. She wouldn’t bark or go to the door when she needed to go out, she would just leave her crate and stare at the opening leading to the next room. There is a narrow hallway that led from the family room to the kitchen and back door but Annie was very spooked by it, she preferred to go around the perimeter of the house. This involved going through the living room and entry way, into the dining room and finally through the kitchen to get to the back door. If I didn’t catch her cue right away or wasn’t in the room with her, she would end up peeing in the entry way near the stairs. She would be hidden from view of all rooms and she preferred this to going all the way through and approaching the back door. I didn’t really care, it was easy enough to clean up, it was just that she was so timid about leaving her crate on her own.
How do I describe what I was feeling? Her closed off, protective behavior was something I had never dealt with before. I could sense a barrier between us and I wasn’t going to get through easily. She was so sweet, she didn’t recoil when I came near her and began softly petting her, but she didn’t engage either. She was tolerating my presence and waiting for me to be done. I decided to stay where I was but diverted my attention to the chaos around me, the running dogs, my daughter becoming very popular because she was now in possession of the treat bag and Maisie chasing the cat. While I conversed with her foster mom I hoped that she would become comfortable enough with my presence that she might relax. That didn’t happen.
She remained stiff as a board with a vacant expression. It was so obvious to me that she was nervous about our arrival and what it might mean for her. My heart was breaking for the sweet dog that was receiving the most loving, tender send off possible. I hoped I could someday get her to bond with us, but I was realizing that might not be possible. She had been with them for close to a year, and was still so guarded. This was going to be more difficult than I had imagined, but I didn’t waiver for a moment. I knew we were meant to be together and I wanted nothing more than to spoil her and show her that she was loved and valued. She would never be neglected or hungry again and we would be with her until her final day. I just hoped that would be enough.
maisiethenewfieandcompany 