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.
----

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.

Getting Back to Normal

I picked a bad spot, where she was hidden in shadows. And she picked a bad time to yawn/sneeze/make one of her crazy noises. This photo was doomed.

OK, so "tomorrow" turned out to be "the day after tomorrow." Sorry.

Mabel is almost back to new! The skin on her belly is (apparently) extremely itchy right now, and she's been scratching it like crazy since yesterday, leaving it raw, so we'll be asking the vet about that. But her energy and spirits are back up, which is so good to see. The moments in which she seems morose are much rarer now, and today when one of us sits next to her, she's back to doing just what presurgery Mabel always did--she wags her tail, licks our faces, and cuddles up against us. For several days, she was weird about mealtime and wouldn't eat if we weren't in sight, but this morning--though it initially appeared we were going to have a repeat of this scenario--I came back into the office (which, you may recall, is where she spends most of her daytime hours with me) after an absence of a few minutes to find her scarfing down her food. Whew.

We'll probably take her in to have her stitches removed on Thursday.

More to come later . . . dramatic stuff, positive stuff, in-between stuff--all sorts of stuff.

Chance and Mabel Pose for Treats

Sorry for the lack of updates. It's been crazy around here, and Mabel's foster mom (who feels the need to refer to herself in the third person for some reason this evening) has been overwhelmed. Updates will resume tomorrow sometime.

In the meantime, enjoy a buddy photo. :)

Another Surgery Recovery Update

Sweet Mabel is still in the process of recovering. Some behaviors (and some moaning) tell us that she's still feeling some pain, and there are parts of the day when she looks and acts really despondent, but she's certainly better than she was, and just-like-her-old-self moments of happy behavior and abundant affection are coming back with increasing frequency. And her mood always and immediately perks up when she gets to be around the other dogs (I should clarify--the other other dogs: she's with Chance the corgi lab all the time, so though she adores Chance, that's nothing special anymore, and what really gets her tail wagging is seeing Sara the black lab mix and Ella the greyhound, especially Sara). But of course, she's still moving very slowly. And she's not eating completely normally yet--both yesterday morning and this morning, she ate only a little bit before stopping, but she finishes her food if I give it back to her a couple hours later; late at night and early in the morning seem to be her roughest times.

Today's first photo was taken during one of her happy moments in the last day. Oh, how she loves to roll in the grass. The second one, below, is from the day of her surgery. As soon as Brandi set her down on the deck (after carrying her all the way from the car, while I ran into the yard and house to open all the gates and doors), Mabel pathetically trudged directly through the back door, through the kitchen, through the office, and into her crate to curl up her in bed. I don't know what the hell I was thinking taking a picture of her--the last thing she needed was a flash going off in her face (though, in my defense, her eyes were closed when I started to take the photo). I'm too much in the habit of trying to document everything.

Quick Recovery Update--More Tomorrow

She's better. So-sweet Jen was right--I left a message for the vet this morning, and when she called back late in the morning and listened to all that was going on here, she immediately said, "Let's get her some more meds for the pain and the nausea." Brandi zoomed off to the vet's office (I'm still desperately trying to meet a deadline amid all this, so Brandi worked from home today to help out) for three medicine-filled syringes--one for pain, one for nausea, and one antibiotic--and Mabel took the shots like a champ, not even flinching (I, predictably, did flinch--I am obviously not the one who actually gives shots around here; Chance needs them every other week, and I just can't do it). An hour later, Mabel was getting up and walking around for short bits at a time, and with the pain and nausea apparently under control, her appetite returned. Watching her eat, seeing her tail wag, and getting her to go down into the yard without having to drag her out of her bed--all of that brought much relief and lots of smiles. She's still a little slower than usual, and she's not as happy and overly affectionate as usual (though she still graced us with a couple instances of face-licking this afternoon and evening), but that's to be expected--she's going to need more than one day to recover. Possible emotional stuff aside, this wasn't a simple or easy surgery, and Mabel's body has been through a lot (the substantial puppy complication aside, I think people tend to forget that even a standard spay isn't a minor matter--it's so routine and recommended that its status as a full-fledged organ removal, a hysterectomy plus removal of the ovaries, isn't always kept in mind). But when, this evening, she started drinking water again and a couple times wandered over to the side of the deck to bark, like usual, at passersby, I knew she was going to be all right.

I so love this dog.

Mabel's Saddest Day

From yesterday morning, presurgery.

I wrote the following yesterday afternoon and last night but didn't post it. Her night was restless, and as of nine this morning, we still can't get her to drink or eat anything. She's drunk only a tiny bit of water between early yesterday evening and now, but she's thrown up twice--once when we took her outside before bedtime and again about half an hour ago--since the first time she threw up, in the car on the way home from the vet's office. The absolute disinterest in any and all food wouldn't worry me so much if she weren't also displaying a complete disinterest in--and refusal of--water. Normally, this dog would drink a river dry if you'd let her. We're worried about her.

***
6/23/08
6:00 p.m.

When I took Mabel to the vet’s office Friday to have her sore paw checked out, at which time we also found out she had a bad case of colitis (by chance, I saw her do her business in the yard as we were on our way out to the car to leave, and I noticed that it looked bad, so I took it in as a sample), I asked the vet what he thought about our pregnancy hypothesis. The overall exam was a pretty quick one, as was the check to see if she was pregnant. But he was sure she wasn’t; he couldn’t feel any puppies, and because she had to be at least 5 weeks along if she was pregnant (and a dog’s gestation period averages only about 63 days), he should have felt something. So, we determined, Mabel was dealing with a false pregnancy. I chalked up her weight gain in the area to false-pregnancy hormones and the fact that we’d been feeding her quite a bit to help her gain weight. (Note the “he” in this paragraph; we didn’t get to see Mabel’s much-loved usual vet.)

I took her in this morning for her spay surgery, and when we went to pick her up late this afternoon, her vet—the usual one we love—pulled us into an exam room to talk about how the surgery had gone. She looked like she’d had a long day. I’m glad I hadn’t yet told you (like I’d already told several other people) that Mabel was just having a false pregnancy.

When the veterinarian performed the surgery, she found nine puppies, she told us with emotion in her voice. Two of them were already dead, and their bodies were doing what bodies do once life is over and could have made Mabel very sick if the pregnancy had continued. The other seven, the doctor said, were very small. Given the shape that sick and starving Mabel was in when we found her and all the intravenous and oral medications she’s had in the last 5 1/2 weeks, there’s really no telling how many of the puppies would have made it in the end or what kind of condition they would have been in upon birth. Carrying the litter to term could have been extremely dangerous for Mabel. And we know too that caring for and finding homes for the surviving puppies likely would have been just impossible for us when we’re so drained already just caring for Mabel and all the other animals we have now. And of course, there are so many dogs, pit bulls especially, out there looking for homes already, adults and puppies alike.

But it is still a terribly sad day. We know that ending the pregnancy was ultimately best—best for Mabel; we can list all the logical reasons in support of that. But for her, our hearts are still heavy, and our eyes are still filled with tears. I believe that she knew she was pregnant. I believe that her heart and her body both were preparing to care for the little lives inside her (indeed, we witnessed some telltale behavior). And I believe that she can now, or will as she comes more and more out of her grogginess, sense that those little lives are gone, and I believe she will mourn that loss, if she isn’t mourning already. So much, so much—she has been through so much. And now there is this, this suddenly having something so natural and good taken from her, an experience that was solely hers, an experience she was anticipating. There are so many reasons that this is what had to happen, yet the guilt I feel is tremendous because I still can't help but feel that today we took from her something that we did not have the right to take from her. Some selfish, abusive humans didn’t get the puppies they wanted to sell, and they'll never again have Mabel to exploit. But Mabel didn’t get the puppies she wanted to love.

She is moaning and crying a high-pitched cry as I write this. I am crying as I write this. It is a room full of pain and sorrow.

***
10:48 p.m.

It is almost 11 p.m. now. I wrote the preceding account several hours ago. The night has been really rough for Mabel, and we haven’t been able to coax her out of her bed for anything. Even getting her outside before bedtime and then—much worse—back in was a nightmare; it turned out to be a matter of forcing her rather than “getting her,” which is incredibly difficult when she’s just had surgery, and we can’t simply or easily pick her up, especially when she won’t even come out of a lying-down or sitting-down position. She is simply refusing to move, and when she was standing outside in the yard, still as stone, staring at me as I begged her to come to me, she looked just like she did the night we found her—frozen in pain and fear. Both when we were trying to get her out of the office and through the kitchen to the back door, to encourage her to go outside, and when I needed to move her from the office to the living room, so that she could sleep next to me (there’s no way she was going to make it to the basement bedroom tonight), her bed had to be dragged across the house with her in it. She’s had very little interest in water tonight and zero interest in even a small amount of food or treats, and a series of efforts to get a Rimadyl down her throat to help with the pain were completely unsuccessful.

More later.

"Now what?" she says.

Mabel goes back to the vet tomorrow morning. This will be her fifth visit in under five weeks. (And the humans here have been to the vet's office for her seven times; two trips involved picking up meds sans Mabel.)

When I let her outside before dinner, I noticed immediately that she was walking with a distinct limp and frequently holding up her back left leg while she stood. Upon inspecting her paw, I found oozy stuff between her toes (and trooper that she is, she handled the inspection very calmly, just slowly pulling the paw away when I touched the part that hurt). So it looks like we have an infection on our hands. She's been off antibiotics for the last few days for the first time since we found her. Back on 'em, we go, I'm sure.

In other news, become of some bodily changes, we're worried she might be pregnant. She was in heat when we found her, but because she was apparently in the proestrus stage, it seemed very unlikely that she could have become pregnant yet, so we didn't give this possibility much thought in the beginning. We're giving it lots of thought now. Her spay surgery is scheduled for Monday. Oy.

First Day of School

Mabel attended her first training class last night (the humans all met last week, prior to bringing in the dogs), and I must say that we were proud! We were among the first to arrive, so the surroundings were still quiet and peaceful (or as quiet and peaceful as is possible when the dog park is located next to the interstate) when we entered the park and greeted two other sets of dog parents and their dogs, and Mabel remained very calm. She cautiously but happily sniffed the other dogs' faces and seemed oblivious to the proximity of the dogs' people (this was before the teachers came into the park and asked us to keep three feet between all dogs at all times, so it was Mabel's first and only chance to interact with the other dogs on this particular night).

We received confirmation that she still feels at ease more immediately with other dogs than she does with other people, and she needs slow introductions to people, ideally in calm environments, but she still did very well. She became scared of approaching people a couple times and so barked a bit and hurried to hide behind us, but she also calmed down with the assistant teacher and let her get close two times after initially barking and hiding (the first time the assistant teacher approached, it was just as an influx of dogs and people suddenly came flowing into the park and toward Mabel, which seemed to overwhelm her). Beyond other factors, last night's events were all happening in a new, busy environment that probably still felt overwhelming to Mabel even by the end of class. When the teacher, who has many years of experience with dogs, came up to Mabel for the first time while she was lying completely down--and thus perhaps feeling too vulnerable to the approach of a stranger--Mabel barked and hid behind us. But a couple weeks ago, when my sister who is not very comfortable with or knowledgeable about dogs came to the house and walked right up to her, Mabel--with Chance at her side--didn't seem to mind at all and just happily stood there waiting to be petted, tail wagging, so it seems likely that her reactions and feelings of fear and safety are strongly influenced, understandably, by the environment in which the introduction takes place and by her physical preparedness to engage in that introduction. I have no doubt whatsoever that this class will help her become more comfortable with and trusting of other humans--we just have to give her time to learn that the vast majority of people want to love her, not hurt her.

But overall, Mabel did great! We've known for a couple weeks now that she's a quick learner, and she showed that again last night. I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it plenty more times: she's eager to please. She demonstrated all the homework behaviors we'd practiced in the past week (and the ones we've been practicing on our own since we found her) very well--even despite our sense that we hadn't done enough practicing with her because of the chaotic nature of our lives right now. She calmly and quickly did the things we asked her to, and she seemed completely unnerved by the presence of the other dogs, even when a dog near her repeatedly became excitable and talkative. When we were in the large circle, practicing behaviors, one dog-human set at a time, I could see only one noticeable behavior that differentiated Mabel from the other dogs--the rest of the dogs stood next to or in front of their people and looked out into the circle, facing the other people and dogs. Mabel, however, always stood, sat, or lay facing us. It was as if she didn't give a damn about what was happening behind her--her priority was keeping her eyes (or just "eye," I guess) on us and making sure we didn't go anywhere.

We're excited to see all the progress we know she's going to make in the coming weeks. And just one clarification for any prospective adoptive families out there: I want to point out, as I've done before, that even when Mabel is scared, as in the instances I just mentioned, her instinct is not to be aggressive, not to growl, not to snap, not to lunge forward--her instinct is simply to bark a bit and hide. She doesn't want to go at the person of whom she's scared; she wants to get away. She's not aggressive, just scared, and time, patience, love, and continued exposure to people who want to care for her rather than hurt her are alleviating and will continue to alleviate that fear.