Still Here--Again! I Promise!

Although I take my foster mom duties very seriously, I've been an atrocious foster mom blogger lately. I'll spare you the reasons for that.

But I'll have Mabel updates for you again very soon, in the next day or two (really, I mean it this time).

We're Still Here!

This photo was actually taken a month ago (Mabel was more interested in licking my face than posing with me), but you can pretend it's Mabel kissing me goodbye as I prepare to leave for my weeklong trip.

Not a single Mabel update in almost 3 weeks? How awful am I?!

Both of Mabel's foster moms have entered into the World of All Work and Deadlines and Vet Appointments and No Fun in the last few weeks, so work with Mabel and blogging about Mabel has been harder to fit in. But Mabel is still here, happy and silly and clumsy as ever. Her newest joy is chasing tennis balls and trying her hardest to eat them.

We have made baby steps in helping her overcome her fear of other people, but we're not nearly where we should be, again because of the difficulty of getting in as much practice and training and exposure as she needs. We are currently considering putting her--temporarily--on antianxiety medication to help with the process. We absolutely hate the idea of medicating her and have looked at it as a last resort from the beginning, but in doing some thinking and researching the last couple weeks, we realized that this may be what she needs. If medication can help calm her nerves and fears enough that she can start interacting more normally with other people more quickly, it could be worth a shot. And then once she's finally had a chance to learn, while on the antianxiety medication, that people really are OK after all, we can start weaning her off the meds. We're just waiting for a call back from Mabel's vet, who has been on vacation for the last week, so that we can decide if this is a good option and then get her started.

This is probably a good time for her to have some help relaxing anyway. Because I work at home, she's used to having someone around practically all the time right now, and I'm getting ready to leave for a conference for a week, which means that while her other foster mom is at work, Mabel will have to stay in her crate (don't worry--she'll be let out to run around and do her business at lunchtime). Her separation anxiety is much, much better now than it was in the beginning, and she quiets down a few minutes after we leave (she's never been destructive or tried to get out of her crate--she just barks and cries), but she still doesn't like being left, and she's never been left for almost the whole day multiple days in a row.

And to clarify--we're not just going to medicate her and hope that does the trick. Once I'm back from my trip, and especially once we get through August, we're going to rededicate ourselves to working with her as well. We are also trying to get some time with a behaviorist, which we consider far more important than the medication, but we're waiting to hear back from someone on that too.

Because I'll be gone for most of the next week--and not with Mabel--it's unlikely that I'll be able to update this blog again for about a week. But Mabel and I will see you when I return. :)

Hugs and Kisses from Mabel and an Adoption Progress Update

Apologies for the infrequent updates lately. The humans have been really busy.

Once Mabel knows and trusts you, she can't get enough of you. The very first night she was here, she kept trying to crawl on top of me to sleep instead of sleeping in the dog bed next to me, as she was supposed to. At the time, I thought this was just some manifestation of all that she was feeling that dramatic, traumatic night.

But no, this is something she still gladly does today, now that she's in good health and perfectly happy. If one of us lies down on the floor (i.e., where Mabel can get to us; she knows not to get on beds and couches uninvited), she is on top of us within seconds, crawling all over us and licking our face and neck and chest for as long as we'll let her, and then when we make her stop, she finally settles down--sometimes sprawled out across, hanging over our midsection, and sometimes with her face right next to ours or on our chest, her legs over our shoulders.

Enter today's photo. It may look like Brandi's holding her there, but she isn't (there were dozens of other photos of this in which that was more clear, but I was having a hard time getting rid of the flash-induced red eye in those). What you see here is a combination of Brandi cuddling with her and keeping her from running over to me to lick the camera lens.

In other news, well, there isn't much news. We're still working on Mabel's people-fear but not as steadily as she needs; with all the other animals, work, and family, it's been difficult to find the necessary time. With any luck, we can get back on a schedule and develop a plan for that soon. We're also hoping to capture some video soon of Mabel's recent playful yard antics and to share that with you here; it won't be high-quality video, but hopefully we can come up with something.

Mabel still doesn't have any prospective homes, though she did have a wonderful, loving, huge-hearted family from Indiana interested in her--our very first seriously interested potential adopters--before we all realized that the home just wasn't right for Mabel for various reasons. It was a sad realization, both for us and for the sweet family who wanted so much to be able to give Mabel a happy home. But Mabel's permanent family is still out there somewhere, and that kindhearted Indiana family, I know, is going to find the perfect second dog for their household; they have a lot of love to give, and there is no shortage of dogs in need.

We are nearing the end of week 10 now. Please continue to spread the word about Mabel, friends, especially those of you around St. Louis (or with friends around St. Louis). You never know who might want and need a dog--and who might be just perfect for Mabel. :)

Eye Contact--Eye Contact Is Good

Because of scheduling and weather, we haven't been to the park since the beginning of the week, but on a late morning walk, we encountered a group of people outside the neighborhood coffee shop. We stopped near them because Chance had moved into the grass to do her business, and the men and women standing near us proceeded to check out the two dogs and ask us questions about them. This doesn't seem very exciting, I know. But this was the first time that we've been able to stop near strangers and that those strangers have actually been able to talk to us and make eye contact with Mabel without her barking in fear. She tucked her tail for a little bit, but she didn't freak out. We wish progress in this area were coming faster, but hey, at least it's still happening--we can work with that!

P.S. A big thank you to the readers who came across this blog and sent sweet, supportive e-mails this past week about Mabel. Individual replies will come soon (after I meet a deadline in a few days), but in the meantime, thank you, from Mabel and from me. :)

The Young Pit Bull and the Going-on-Geriatric Corgi Lab

Moments such as this are part of why I hope so much that we will be able to still invite Mabel over now and then or visit her, with Chance in tow, once Mabel's permanent family has been found. She had one of her periodic excited "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!" episodes with alpha Chance late yesterday afternoon. After plopping herself directly in front of Chance and proceeding to lick all over Chance's mouth, face, and ears, she then followed Chance to her new location a few feet away, where Chance moved when she tired of the slobbery attention, in order to lie down directly against her.

Clearly, she is a ferocious, dog-aggressive maniac.

Mabel the Playful

Mabel coming when called, after an impressive sit-stay

In the last week, Mabel has been feeling better than ever evidently--she has been so playful! She's been affectionate from the beginning, and she's even been silly and mildly playful from the beginning, but not like she is now. Every day now, when she gets into the yard, all she wants to do is play bow, run with me, and bounce around--and "bounce" really is the perfect word. She looks like a giant oddly shaped rabbit darting around the yard. And apparently, she has some nocturnal tendencies too because no matter how active her day has been, for the last several nights, when we've let her out for that one last chance to relieve herself before bed, she's been just a giant ball of ecstatically happy, noisy (Ah-ROOOH!) energy. Forget end-of-the-day exhaustion; she's at her most energetic! She calms down quickly and easily as soon as I get her inside and to her bed, but the surge of excitement that comes out of her every night is something to behold.

Why We Can't Keep Mabel and Why We Need Your Help

Not one person has inquired seriously about adopting Mabel in eight weeks. Not one. (There's a whole other post on that topic sitting in draft form.) But I have received 3 e-mails from total strangers telling me I should keep her, asking me to keep her, or suggesting that it seems like Mabel already has a home, offering that insight as "just a thought." And I've seen posts on at least one bulletin board in which people have talked about how much they hope I'll keep her. A couple friends have asked about whether we might be permanently adopting her too, and those questions haven't bothered me; they've been asked politely, and when I've explained why we can't, the friends have understood immediately, knowing what our lives were like before Mabel in addition to hearing what our lives are like now. But when strangers write elsewhere about how I should keep her or write to me to suggest I keep her, as if strangers could have any idea what life is like here or have standing to comment on it, I'm bothered.

I want to be clear that the guilt and anguish we feel over not being able to keep Mabel is very real and very painful. Last month, when the first stranger, in response to one of my mailing list messages, sent me the note saying, "maybe she already has a home . . . just a thought," despite my having just explained why we couldn't keep her, this short message bothered me to the point of tears. Today's e-mail from a stranger, telling me that he respected my "decision" not to keep Mabel while simultaneously asking me to reconsider, given how much she loves us and we love her, elicited both tears and anger. Please, please, understand, readers--there is no decision. We just can't. And this is hard enough without strangers telling us what they think we should do.

How could anyone believe that in a whole two months of loving and caring for Mabel, we haven't considered keeping her and wanted to keep her and tried to find a way to keep her? How can someone who has no idea what our day-to-day lives are like here, who has no firsthand knowledge of us or of Mabel or of any of the other animals here, make a judgment about how we're handling this--how could anyone possibly think that the idea of keeping her is something novel and new that needs to be suggested to us, something we haven't already pondered and agonized over? Knowing that we have to let Mabel go is not something that's easy for us. My heart is going to feel like it's being shredded by razors when she leaves.

But at some point, she has to leave for another home, despite how much I don't want her to. I love Mabel, more each day. But folks seem to forget that we ended up fostering her not by choice, but by default. We knew, the moment we found Mabel, that keeping her--even fostering her--was completely unrealistic, perhaps even impossible, given our own current situation and Mabel's likely needs. We desperately tried to find her another place to live. But when it became apparent that all the places she could go were already full, we were faced with a decision: take her in and do our best for as long as possible or take her to a mainstream shelter and her almost certain death. We didn't have a choice. We couldn't let this sweet dog languish or die in a shelter.

In the first couple weeks, we were overwhelmed in more ways than I can count, but a large part of the difficulty of those first weeks was our constant--constant--guilt over how the other animals in this house were suffering or not having all their needs fully met because of our decision to foster Mabel. Before Mabel, there were already 3 dogs and 2 cats in this essentially one-bedroom house (with a mostly finished basement). Day-to-day life was already enough to sometimes leave me barely hanging on to sanity. Beyond much else going on in life, our dogs and cats have their own issues, and caring for all of them every day, all day and all night, while also trying to work from home full-time and also meet gobs of other responsibilities and deal with gobs of other time- and energy-consuming life issues, was almost more than I could handle before Mabel.

And in those first couple weeks, we decided this: yes, we were overwhelmed, and yes, we were guilt-stricken over what our animals were going through while Mabel was here and in need of so much attention, but this wasn't permanent, and after Mabel recovered and had a home (which I naively thought would take only a few weeks to a month), we would make it up to them; we didn't want them to be sad or for their routines and lives to be so disrupted, but Mabel's entire life and future were at stake, and we couldn't deny her the chance for a full and happy life, for another decade of living, just because the other animals' lives would be inconvenienced or more stressful than usual for a month.

Since Mabel's arrival, the animals in this house have had to be broken up into 3 pairs (it used to be just 2 sets--dogs and cats) that are kept completely separate at all times during the day. I spend half my day just finding ways to move the different sets to different areas of the house or outside without their paths ever intersecting or any animal (cat or dog) ever being in danger from another. I am constantly aware of and stressed about which animals are not getting enough time and attention. I am constantly worried that I'm going to screw up. I have been constantly behind in work since Mabel got here, not able to work at all the first week or two she was here (and when freelancers don't work, freelancers don't have income). People who can't imagine that daily life with these 6 animals could really be that hard or that stressful don't know these 6 animals or this house--and wouldn't last a day here.

When Brandi is home in the evenings, we do sometimes have all 4 dogs in the same (small) room, but there is never a fully relaxed moment during these interludes. Mabel is always on a leash, but the room is too small, and there are too many things and beings in it. And there are too many distractions outside that regularly send the other dogs barking and running to the windows, and there is always a greyhound on the other side of the room who both dislikes and now fears Mabel.

And here we have reached one of the primary reasons that Mabel can't stay here permanently. Neither Mabel nor Ella the greyhound is fully comfortable or safe here right now, at least or especially when they're in the same space. Ella has disliked Mabel from the start, and she has shown it. Since a bad first meeting, Mabel has tried to be friendly with Ella, and Ella has alternated between ignoring her and snarling at her. A couple weeks ago, when I accidentally let them both into the yard at the same time, Ella came charging at Mabel full-greyhound-speed from across the yard as soon as Mabel jumped off the bottom of the deck steps into the yard. We'll never know if Ella's initial intent might have been playful, but the situation ended with a traumatized Ella at the vet's office getting stitches down her side and with Mabel upset and scared and curled up at my feet, refusing to even eat her dinner. Mabel likes Ella. Mabel likes and is liked by Sara the black lab. Mabel loves and is loved by Chance. But Mabel and Ella cannot live together. They are not safe together.

Mabel, for many, many reasons, will be better off in the long run in a home that is better suited for her, in a home where there are fewer animals and where she can get more one-on-one attention and where there is not tension or danger for her.

There are other reasons we can't keep Mabel, reasons that I won't go into in a public post, but please trust that they are real, valid reasons.

Please understand too that some real sacrifices, with long-term consequences in some cases, have been made and will continue to be made during this time in which we're caring for Mabel. Please know that we are doing all that we possibly can for her--more than we really can for her, as other parts of our lives and ourselves, our families, our animals, our relationships, and our work pay the price. Personally, the addition of Mabel to our home this summer has prevented me from doing something that I desperately needed to do, something that was vitally important to me, something that I may very well be missing my last chance to do--because I chose to keep caring for Mabel. Even as I write this, I may be permanently losing pieces of my family's history and pieces of myself because I am not where I intended to be this summer, because I am here with Mabel instead, because when it became clear that she was not going to be adopted as soon as we'd hoped, we did not just give up on her. I do not for one moment regret taking Mabel off the streets that night--I love her with all my heart, and I would do it again without hesitation--but the decision has not been without consequences.

So please, if you have a home for Mabel or you know someone who does, don't think that just because we love her so much, we should or can or will keep her. I want to be her buddy for the rest of her life. I want to help her adoptive family in any ways I can as they get to know her and make further progress with her. I want to dogsit her when they go out of town. I want to visit her or invite her over to see Chance. And I want to keep her; I just can't. Her departure is going to be more difficult and painful for us than I can put into words, and the thought of how it's going to confuse and upset her breaks my heart even more, but there truly is no other option.

We love Mabel tremendously. But in this case, much as we wish it were, love is just not enough.

Francis Park, Round 2

In the car, leaving the park

Last night, on our second trip to Francis Park, Mabel was just perfect. Her fear of humans seems to be turning into a fascination with them. I wondered if, despite her progress Saturday night, she might at least start this venture nervous again, huddling in close to my legs or trying to move to the other side of my body, away from people when they passed, like she did at the start of her first trip to the park. She didn't. From the beginning of the walk, instead of turning away from passersby, she turned toward them, turning her head all the way around to watch them pass (she has to turn her head because as we walk down the right side of the sidewalk, people pass on her left, on her blind side). She slowed down ever so slightly a few times, but her tail did not tuck--it stayed up and several times even wagged. A couple times when people passed us from behind, she behaved as if she wanted to catch up with them, tail wagging away. She tried to sniff at least one person's shoes. Because we arrived at the park later than planned, and dark was catching up with us, our walk was much shorter than the previous one, but it was also hot and humid, so the half-hour stroll was just about right. We sat on a bench again at the end, and Mabel watched curiously but calmly as walkers, joggers, cyclists, and dog-walkers passed. Near the end, out of the blue, she barked at one jogger who passed (after having been completely unbothered by a dozen others), and we're not sure why she did it--it's possible that something else in that moment (e.g., a noise, a flash of car headlights) startled her or that Mabel wasn't paying attention, and because the woman came from her left, Mabel didn't notice the jogger until she was right in front of her. But whatever the reason, it was one bark from a sitting position, and then she was fine.

We don't think she's at the point yet where a stranger could approach her directly and interact with her without initially scaring her, but that day may not be far off! Watching this change in her--and seeing how quickly it's happening--is just astonishing.

Mabel Tackles Francis Park--and Succeeds!

Don't worry--we didn't let Mabel off-leash in the park. This was taken at home. Park pictures still to come.

Really, she just impresses the hell out of of me sometimes, this dog. Saturday evening, armed with a water bottle, a water bowl, treats, and Chance, who we're hoping provides Mabel with more comfort in these situations and who can show Mabel through her own interactions with humans that they're OK, we took Mabel to a busy (and beautiful) park--busy was good for Mabel; beautiful was good for the humans.

With lots of cars going by on the street to our left; lots of people walking, running, and riding past us on the sidewalk; and lots of activity (e.g., tennis matches and playing children) going on inside the park, we expected that Mabel might get anxious to the point of not being able to get comfortable and feel safe again early in the walk and that we might need to make this first venture into Francis Park a short one and then proceed to increase our time there on future visits. Instead, halfway through and a couple dozen people into the 1.25-mile walk around the perimeter of the park, Mabel was doing just beautifully. By the time we were halfway through the walk, adults, children, and dogs could walk or jog past her with barely an acknowledgment from Mabel (well, almost--the sight of another dog always elicited a wagging tail, and that's the kind of acknowledgment we want!). Aside from the treat and/or abundant praise Mabel received after every instance of walking unfazed as we passed someone, she looked and acted just like any other dog out for an evening stroll.

Two different scenarios made me especially proud of Mabel. First, in the last fourth of our walk, a woman and small girl were approaching us. The girl stopped to pick at something on the sidewalk, and when she was done, she started to run to catch up with her mother. She wasn't running at Mabel by any means, but I could see that she was going to run close to us as she passed, and I thought for sure that this was going to startle Mabel and lead her to bark. But what did this sweet dog do? She stood there, watched the girl prance by, and wagged her tail. This, my friends, warranted buckets of praise.

At the end of the walk, we sat down on a bench just off the sidewalk, to see how Mabel would do when we just let people pass us, as we sat there stationary. She watched with calm but alert interest for the first couple minutes, but then--and this is key!--she not only sat down but then also proceeded to lie down next to and in front of the bench, and she remained in that position, calm and comfortable, as groups of people walked by just a few feet from where she lay. She knew they were there--she looked at them without getting up--but she just didn't care. This is the same dog who a week ago was barking in fear at people standing in their very own yards, fifteen feet away from her, while we walked by. This is big stuff!

We did have one easily manageable barking incident near the end of the evening, but it wasn't a surprising result. A group of three or four (I can't remember now) talkative older adults were approaching us with two excited, fast-walking dogs, and they were spread across the whole sidewalk. I could see that they were going to have to pass very close to Mabel, so I held on tight to her, despite the fact that B. was convinced they would move over a little bit once they got to us. They didn't, and they let one of the dogs come right over to Mabel and Chance, and all of this was fine, but then in addition to the whole big group getting very close to Mabel, one of the men very sweetly remarked, looking at Mabel, on how well-behaved she was. The combination of so many bodies passing her at once, so close, and one of the people slowing down next to her, looking at her, and talking to her was enough to make her nervous, and she backed away and barked. But they kept moving, and Mabel quickly returned to a calm state. When subsequent people and dogs passed, she remained just as unbothered as before. This is a big deal. A week ago, if something or someone had scared Mabel, then everyone else following would have scared her and sent her barking too. But this time, she was able to experience a moment of anxiousness, get over it, and encounter subsequent people with a clean slate.

We didn't go to the park yesterday morning because of prepping for an afternoon family gathering or last night because we had training class (more on that later), but if the heat is bearable, we'll try again tonight. This kind of experience and exposure is proving to be even better for Mabel than I'd hoped. When she has these kinds of breakthroughs, I feel like my chest will explode with happiness for her. This isn't just about making her more adoptable; a life with less fear is simply going to be a far better, happier life for her.

Mabel and Humans: Overcoming the Fear

It looked like a pretty serious conversation. "Look," says Chance. "You think way too much of these two. They're nothing special. The rest of those bipeds out there? They're OK. Do something cute or look at them all wide-eyed, and a lot of them will even give you the good treats that these freaks never let us have at home. I mean, come on--carrots? They think carrots are treats? You've gotta learn to suck up to the other humans, Mabes. Seriously, butt on ground, bark held back, treats in mouth. Learn to work the system. "

Update, 7/4/08: We did the same thing again last night, and despite encountering several people in close proximity, she didn't bark at anyone. Not once! She was still nervous, but she didn't even start to bark at anyone. We were so proud. :) She did really well again this morning when we took her out among people, but she did have one scared barking incident, when two men suddenly came out a storefront entrance, on Mabel's left, just as we were passing it; they were much closer than others have been so far, they came out on her blind side, and they paid attention to her, leaning toward her a bit and talking to her and us--all things for which she wasn't ready and which terrified her (she tried to run into the street to get away from them). We're not walking tonight because of all the 4th of July noise (which also scares Mabel), but tomorrow, we have a date with a bustling park.
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Tonight we began doing what we should have started doing weeks ago. *sigh* We've been too overwhelmed to think. Too much has been happening with both the humans and the canines and felines in this house for me to keep my head on straight.

Here's the thing: Mabel is scared of almost all people. Really scared. As in "I don't care if you look like Stephanie's gentle G-rated grandma and lie prostrate on the ground and hold out the the world's biggest, best, smelliest treat and sing lullabies; I'm going to bark at you nonstop and hide behind my foster mom's legs until you back the hell away" scared.

Yeah. It's a problem.

She was terrified of us at first too, but she was sick and in desperate need, so she was kind of forced to trust us relatively quickly. But note that I say "relatively quickly," not "immediately." You may recall that actually getting a hold of her and getting her into our yard and then, dear god, getting her across the yard, down the basement steps, and into the house was an absolute horror. It involved half an hour or more of lying down in the dirty alley with treats and food while Mabel repeatedly got within a couple feet of us and then scurried away, then another ten minutes of literally half-dragging, half-carrying her back to the yard, and finally another long process of coaxing her across the yard and into the house--getting her down the steps and in the door involved her running back up the steps a dozen times before we actually got her in and got the door closed behind her. But then, miraculously, after just a minute or two inside, she loved us. She didn't bark a single time that night, but I think that's because at that time, she was just so weak and sick that she didn't have it in her, and she probably was just beyond terrified and knew on some level that she needed help.

But look at us now! Like I said, once she was inside, everything changed, and since that first moment when she started licking our hands and faces 6 1/2 weeks ago, she hasn't shown an ounce of fear toward us again, not even once, and there's never been any aggression. But the only other human with whom she's had repeated, close contact is her often-mentioned beloved vet, who is wonderful with Mabel beyond belief and who too earned her trust quickly. Most other humans still get the bark-and-hide treatment when they try to get--or just happen to end up--close to Mabel. And though we fully, absolutely trust her to warm up to other people with time and patience, and though she has no interest in hurting anyone and just wants to run away from people, it's still hard to expect or ask other people--those who don't know her or trust her yet and who just hear that awful bark--to trust us and just sit there for half an hour and let her bark at them until she decides they're OK.

We've started realizing, though, in the last week that one of the reasons Mabel hasn't made much progress with other humans is that she just hasn't been around them. She's seen other humans at the two training class she's attended so far, but (1) they've kept their distance, and (2) they've been attached to dogs for the most part, and I've really started to believe that she's inherently less frightened of humans who are attached to dogs than humans on their own--as if the presence of those dogs and the humans' kindness toward those dogs provide proof to her that the humans aren't going to come over and hurt her. And as noted, she does pretty well at the vet's office. But otherwise, she's had only infrequent exposure to other people. Beyond these relatively few instances over the last 6 1/2 weeks, Mabel's only daily close exposure to non-us humans has been via the people who walk down the sidewalk past our yard. And that's an entirely different matter--that's a case of people walking in Mabel's territory, so she just barks and barks and barks at them while running along the fence.

We walk Mabel daily, but it didn't occur to us until just recently that we have not been walking her in the right places. We don't pass very many people on our walks. And this dog needs to get used to seeing people. Lots and lots of people. Close by. I mentioned this to Brandi last week--that we needed to start walking her in busier areas--but life continued to be chaotic, and we quickly forgot this plan and continued walking our usual, quiet, automatic routes. Then a friend whose advice I sought regarding how to help Mabel get used to humans and become trusting of them reminded me of the obvious again today: "I would suggest taking her to public places as much as you can . . . Walks downtown . . . parks . . . busy, bustling places. She'll get more comfortable with it."

So that's our new priority. Tonight, we headed toward the Macklind Avenue Deli, where we knew there'd be a crowd of people sitting outside, drinking and eating. A block from home, Mabel barked at two strangers who were walking door-to-door selling security systems. A block from the deli, she noticed an older couple sitting on their front porch and barked at them (they were friendly and took it quite well). And then we approached the deli on the corner. So many people! She let out one quick bark right as we approached and was visibly freaked out by all the bodies and noise (her tail moved between her legs immediately), but she didn't stop and bark. She allowed me to keep leading her on, and as we rounded the corner, walking down the other side of the deli's patio, she tried to speed up and get away from the people as fast as she could, but she still let out only a little half-bark. It took her another block to feel safe again--her tail remained tucked, and she kept swinging her head back and forth, looking around frantically, as if to make sure no one was going to sneak up on her--but I still say she made progress even on this first attempt. She kept walking and didn't freeze, and she didn't bark nonstop when the people were so close. On the home stretch, when we saw a woman in her front yard, Mabel didn't even start to bark at her--she tried to speed up a little to get past her, but she didn't bark.

We'll be doing this every evening that we can now--walking by places with outdoor seating and frequenting busy parks--and I'm optimistic that this is going to help significantly and maybe even quickly. Every time we pass a group of people, and those people fail to hurt her or even notice her, a little bit more of her fear will slip away. And soon enough, she will realize that not all people are like the people who hurt her after all, and she'll be ready to give the species a second chance. And the rest of the humans will be so lucky then--not because she's any kind of danger to them now, while she's afraid of them, but because everyone who meets her will more quickly get to experience her loving affection once she knows it's safe to give it to them.