My dogs are cuter than yours.

That is all.

My serendipity dog - Part 3

Continued from Part 2

Suddenly, I realized how crappy my stomach was feeling.  OH. NO.  Gas station bathroom?  Umm...No.  I sat there debating for a few minutes.  I needed to go home.  Badly.  Yes, I'm telling you this.  And this was a really good decision on my part, seriously.  So of course, it got way too late (Casper is 6 hours away) and I decided I would push the trip back a day.  The dog had been there for over a week.  He'd probably still be there, right?  The next morning I called just after they opened and he had been adopted just a few minutes before.  I guess it wasn't meant to be...

And for some reason, I got very disappointed about this.  Somehow, I had managed to fall in love with the idea of this dog from a single crappy picture and talking to a few people.  I spent a lot of time thinking about this dog and thought of everything I might have to deal with, with him.  If he had problems, I was willing to work with it and started preparing for the [potential] challenges.  ...And then it just didn't happen.

After that, I guess you could say I lost all hope in finding a doberman.  Our fence wasn't fixed yet and I didn't know when B would have time again to work on it.  I didn't expect a home check to go smoothly without it.  Not to mention, did I really want to drive all the way to Las Vegas to adopt a dog I had never met and pay at least a $500 adoption fee?  And did I really want a doberman???  Yes, I'm really kinda fickle.

My indecision (and growing impatience) was killing me and my research mode went into overdrive.

One thing about me is that when I get interested in something, I go into hyperfocus and start researching the crap out of it.  I can't think about anything else except that, quite literally (damn you, ADHD).  I started reading up even more on German shepherds, night and day (I didn't tell B that).  I decided, well, maybe, just maybe.  A GSD puppy would be our dog.  I didn't want those ill-bred, slope-backed American GSDs.  No, I wanted an East German Shepherd working line dog.  I wanted to do Schutzhund, Agility, Search and Rescue, Freestyle, skijoring, weightpulling, you name it.  On the one hand, I wanted an older dog so we could do those things right away.  On the other hand, a puppy with a clean slate was a nice idea.

I know they always say getting a puppy for a "clean slate" is just bull but I feel like that just depends on what you want out of your dog.  First of all, I'd only buy from a reputable breeder who does all the proper health tests and does not contribute to animals being put in shelters.  Second of all, I would want a puppy picked out by the breeder to appropriately match what I was looking for.  A confident dog that bounces back quickly, moderate drive and willing to work.  Getting a well-bred puppy was sounding better and better.  I even found a breeder I liked - she did all the health tests, her own dogs are titled in S&R, her dogs go to Schutzhund, search & rescue, police and pet homes.  Yeah!  I emailed her late one night, asking about her upcoming litters and wanting to chat more.  She got back to me the next morning and I was literally this||close to putting a deposit down.  So I asked B that morning how he felt about committing to it (I had already shown him pictures and info of all her dogs and the ones with upcoming litters).  He said he really liked her dogs but he wanted to think about it and talk about it that evening after work.  Okay...



Three hours later, the shelter called me and told me Diezel had been returned and do I still want to adopt him?

The next day I went to the shelter to visit him with Zoe again.  He had gotten returned because he got into a fight with one of the resident dogs at his new home.  The other dog had to get stitches on his face and I think the owner had gotten bit as well.  That was worrisome.  The dog guy at the shelter didn't feel he was necessarily dog aggressive though.  Okay, okay.  I asked if I could do a foster-to-adopt type of thing, to figure out if he's going to work out at our house.  They were okay with that, especially because we've already been fostering for them.

I was a little hesitant then.  After all, I didn't want to worry he would hurt my dog or my cats.  Or anyone else.  Not to mention I had absolutely convinced myself that we should get a GSD puppy.  I said we'd just see how it all worked out.  ...In less than a week, we decided he was going to stay with us.

Clyde, the first car ride home

I think I knew the moment he jumped into my car and stuck his head out again to be loved on.  Total keeper
.

My serendipity dog - Part 2

Continued from Part 1

Well, back to dobies.  I restarted my search on Petfinder and Craigslist, even looking in all the surrounding states.  The closest doberman rescue was in Utah but they didn't have any dogs available.  Then one day in early August, I had a sudden urge to look at our local animal shelter's website.  I pretty much never went to their site to look for dogs, knowing they would never have dobes.  I was thinking to myself, I wonder if Mia (a dog we fostered) is listed on their site yet?  Maybe they'll have a dobe listed too, ha, ha, ha!

So I went on their site and WHAT?  THERE WAS A DOBERMAN LISTED ON THEIR SITE.  And his name was Diezel.  I immediately called the shelter and asked about him.  I was told he had been there about a week and had a few applications in.  I didn't care, I had to meet him.  I rushed B out of work and we hustled over to the shelter to meet him.

His name was Diezel!  That was a sign!  I had a feeling, this had to be it.  He needed to be THE dog.   He was going to be.  He just had to.  So we met Diezel in the outdoor kennel at the shelter.  He was a bit aloof with nervous energy, running around the kennel.  I brought Zoe out to meet him as well.  They seemed to be okay, though Zoe was not particularly interested.  B was not very impressed with him and felt that he would be too much for me/us.  I, on the other hand, had a great feeling about him and just knew he would be awesome.  I filled out an application for him but I didn't put much hope into it.  There were three other applications ahead of us...and it just wasn't going to happen.  Well maybe he'll get returned, I thought to myself.

I was bummed...if only I had come a week earlier!!  What also frustrated me was that the people who applied probably hadn't even put much thought into adopting a doberman.  They probably saw him at the shelter and said, 'OMG I've always wanted one!'  Yeah, I have always wanted one too, but I had actually been actively searching for one for awhile at that point.  So by the next day, Diezel had already been taken off their website, obviously adopted.  Sigh.  Back to Petfinder again.

I decided to start an application with a doberman rescue in Las Vegas.  I was continuing to peruse Petfinder and Craigslist every day but that particular rescue seemed to be the most likely option by then.  At the same time, I began researching German shepherds (B's favorite breed) and started thinking, well, why not?  I had fallen in love with herding breeds and their biddability.  Was I really ready for a dog like a doberman, who aren't exactly known to be the same way?  I told myself yes...I think so...but maybe I should give those GSDs some more consideration.

Anyway, things were moving along with the rescue I applied to and one final piece was getting a home check.  It just so happened the week before we got that scheduled, B decided to pull out a fence panel to fix it(!).  Of course that would take more than a day to finish up.  And the fires happened.  There were two fires going on at the forest and he started working overtime and on the weekends.  Bah!

In late August, I found a doberman named Zeus in animal control in Casper, WY (a high-kill shelter).  I called several times during the week to ask about him and decided to just drive down there to get him, sight unseen.  I was hesitant about him because he was being very reactive to dogs at the shelter (but that's understandable).  I requested the help of another dobie rescue, asking if I could pull him and foster for them.  If it just didn't work out at our house, I would find him another home to be adopted out to.  They were supportive.  So the morning I was to go, everything seemed to go wrong.  I was missing this thing, then that.  Banged my head, stubbed my toe, that type of thing.  You name it.  If it wasn't one thing, it was another.  I left much later than planned.  But finally I was all packed up to go, with snacks and everything.  I drove to the gas station and filled my car up.


Continued in Part 3...

My serendipity dog - Part 1

I think it was fate that Clyde came into our lives.  No, I don't really believe in that stuff but I can't deny all the pieces that have come together and made him a part of our family.

Clyde the Doberman, 2012

I've wanted a doberman since I was about 10 years old.  I had a colorful book about the many different types of dog breeds and this was the dog I wanted.  Why?  I'll admit it (hey I was 10!).  I wanted a Doberman because of the way they looked and what they represented.  I wanted a big, scary-looking dog for me to take out and walk around the neighborhood so the racist kids down the street would be too scared to say another word to me.  I stopped playing outside and riding my bike around because I didn't want to be accosted by those kids throwing garbage at me and shouting, "Ching-chong, ching-chong!  Go back to China!"  And for the record, I was born in Boston, not China.

After weeks and weeks of begging, my parents agreed to take me to the animal shelter.  And of course, I fell in love with the first dog I saw, a brown and white terrier-mix whom I named, Missy.  Back then, digital cameras did not exist, so I have very few digital photos of her.  ;)

Missy and me, 2004

Fast-forward to 2006.  Missy was gone but we had Diesel, a black and white pitbull-mix my brother brought home when I was a sophomore in college.

Diesel outside of my parent's house, 2005

I was going to graduate from college soon and move to North Carolina for graduate school.  Once again, I was obsessed with Dobermans (and this time, bought a real book on Dobermans).  I researched all of the doberman rescues in North Carolina and decided I would try to foster a dobe.  There was no way I could adopt (no rescue would adopt to me, a young graduate student) but I thought fostering might be a possibility.  But before I left Massachusetts, I realized I couldn't leave behind Diesel and start a new life with another dog.  With everyone else constantly working, Diesel didn't exactly have the most enriching first half of his life.  So it was decided.  Diesel was coming to North Carolina and my dreams of fostering dobes were pushed aside.  I like to think that Diesel had the best last 4+ years of his life with me, camping and traveling across the country, learning to fetch and swim, riding on boats, getting into all sorts of trouble and being the grumpy older brother to my newer puppy, Zoe.

Diesel and Zoe, 2009

Diesel died in 2010, a little over a year after I moved to Montana.  Over the next two years, it was just Zoe and a few foster dogs that came around for short periods of time.  Then early last year, we decided to really consider getting another dog.  Of course, my mind went back to dobermans.  They are pretty rare in Montana and this part of the country.  German shepherds, labs, pitbulls and other herding breeds seem to dominate in Montana.  I contemplated a breeder (there is one in the Missoula area who is supposed to be a reputable breeder) but the husband was not completely on board.

And then I remembered the Chesapeakes...another dog breed I was obsessed with.  Bryce jumped right on this because he wanted a dog to play fetch with.  So in a whirlwind month or two, I found a breeder who seemed reputable (health checks, hip tests and the like).  We paid a deposit early spring and was on the bottom of a waitlist for a puppy.  Chances were slim but there was still a chance.  Come mid-summer, the breeder decided to not breed anymore and returned the deposit.  Hm.

To be continued in Part 2...

Clyde might have some separation anxiety but I'm not entirely sure.  I feel a little stupid if it is separation anxiety.  It was probably my fault I didn't try to prevent it from the start.  Since I can work from home, he was almost never alone when we first got him.  It didn't even occur to me that it might happen because I've never had a dog with separation anxiety!

Why I think it might be separation anxiety?  Well for one, he will bark/whine when separated - either another room, or the crate.  I'll leave him with delicious stuffed toys, chews, treats, etc.  He won't touch them if I leave.  And he will bark for awhile after I leave him.  The one thing I haven't tried is leaving him loose in the house when we leave.

Anyway, he is pretty good about being in the crate when we're in the same room.  When we first got him, the timing wasn't the best, work-wise.  He had to be stuck in the crate a few times before really getting used to the crate, but he was never crated and alone for more than a few hours.  At first, I was using a plastic crate that we borrowed from the shelter but wound up buying a metal wire crate.  I kind of felt like he disliked not being able to see out as well in the plastic crate.  It really does seem like he likes the metal crate a bit more.

So last week, Clyde came with me to Missoula for the week.  Thankfully, my roommate was very understanding and didn't mind having my barky dog around.  I still took random times off to take care of him.  The second day of this, I decided to give the doggie daycare a call to see if he could go there.  Apparently for new clients, they have a 4-5 week waitlist but hurray, because I already take Zoe there, we didn't have to wait.  I was able to bring Clyde in the next day and also get a free half day.  He wound up doing pretty decently his first day.  The following morning, I put him there again for about 5 hours and they said he did really well.  So, yay, at least we can do daycare for him.  Hopefully he stays dog-friendly.

Last night, I wound up buying Nicole Wilde's book, Don't Leave Me!, which is supposed to be a step-by-step guide to treat separation anxiety.  I think I can say that Clyde doesn't have true separation anxiety.  It's more like "isolation distress" where he doesn't like to be left alone but is okay with someone else around.  One possible solution might be having a second dog, which I do.  I am not entirely sure whether Clyde would be just fine un-crated, with Zoe around.  He might be.  I still want him crate trained.

 Clyde chewing a deer leg that's been in my freezer for the last 3 years, yikes!

Starting loose leash walking with Clyde

When Clyde and I first left the animal shelter, he nearly pulled my arm off walking on the leash.  They were probably all looking at me, wondering whether I could even handle this dog.  The guy gave me a head halter, which we tested out for about 2 seconds, as he showed me how to put it on.  Clyde was not a fan of course.  I took it off of him after that.  I managed to get him out the door and into my car without being dragged around too much.  :P

I think I have more patience than when I first got Zoë (the best dog EVAR).  I tried the method of stopping when he pulls and moving forward only when he lets the leash go slack and/or comes back to my side.  Luckily, he's either quicker on the uptake, or I just, well, have more patience!  We were walking pretty decently Day 1.  Day 2, we only walked briefly on the leash (he was perfect) and on Day 3, he was good!  Clyde was walking perfectly (on-leash) by my left side and Zoë was walking (off-leash) on my right side.  We were heading back to the house when all of a sudden, I heard a lady start screaming and hollering.  After a few moments, I realized she was trying to call back her two off-leash dogs, who were headed our way.

Her yelling was so disturbing that I lost my focus on the dogs and they followed suit.  Clyde was very distracted by her yelling (he wasn't looking at her but kept flicking his ears around--he was nervous) and walked in a circle around me, tangling me on the leash.  Zoë was off sniffing the grass.  Finally, she grabbed her dogs, I called Zoë back, untangled Clyde and got us all back walking nicely, side-by-side.  Was she frantically calling for them because she saw he was a doberman?  Or does she do that every time her dogs try to run towards other dogs?  I don't know.  I would say, if you are that frantic about your off-leash dogs running towards other people/dogs, then please don't walk them off-leash and/or train better recalls.  Geesh.