From Here To Eternity

Baby Boy was one of several dogs transported to our shelter from the south in December 2016. He was a handsome dog, with short red fur and the promise of a beautifully muscular frame as he matured. Although timid, Baby Boy could be cajoled to walk through the shelter parking lot, settle in the trainer’s office and participate in playgroups. He quickly distinguished himself as a superior helper dog, and intuitively understood how to get dogs playing, who (in some cases) had never participated in playgroups before. He was hesitant of strangers, unfamiliar flooring surfaces and new environments, but with patience and good treats could usually overcome his reluctance.

Until one day, he couldn’t.

He couldn’t leave the back of his kennel. He retreated from staff and volunteers he had previously been happy to see. He couldn’t cross thresholds from outside to inside. He couldn’t even walk to the big play yard for the playgroups he loved so much. At the same time his world closed in, he developed lameness in first the rear leg, then the front shoulder and started losing weight. Repeated visits to the shelter veterinarian did not reveal any physical cause for the lameness or the weight loss, but until he stopped limping, he could not even try to join in the playgroups he loved so much.

Our Director of Training and Enrichment monitored the situation closely, and in consultation with our clinic vet, put Baby Boy on behavioral medication to try and stem his regression. She asked me to write and implement a behavior plan to modify his existing behavior. Writing the plan was easy, but implementing the plan was one of the most challenging tasks I faced as a trainer.*

Figuring out how to connect with an already fearful dog who had become terrified of every aspect of shelter life kept me up at night. In many cases, I couldn’t eliminate or even lessen the triggers that scared Baby Boy: strangers approaching his kennel, unpredictable loud noises, different flooring surfaces. He fled through a small opening at the back of the kennel when people approached and wouldn’t take treats, even if scattered on the ground. So I did the only thing I could; I waited. I sat motionless in his kennel for countless hours. I made myself as small as possible and didn’t look at him while I tossed treats behind me to where he was hovering in the back. To manage his fear of strangers, Baby Boy was moved to a much quieter, less public kennel, with easy access to a near by play yard. His lameness gradually disappeared and he started gaining weight as he acclimated to his surroundings.

After several training sessions in his new kennel, he would approach to let me slowly clip a leash to his collar, and we would walk several steps away from the building. One of our long term goals was to get him comfortable walking to specific destinations like one of the shelter’s trails or play yards, but until he could walk without panicking in places he knew, we needed to keep our expectations in line with what Baby Boy was capable of at that moment. Depending on the time of day and the number of strangers walking by, what he was capable of could change in an instant.

We spent weeks walking the same fifteen feet of ground, moving away from his kennel, then returning. When he stalled, I would squat down next to him and wait until he could move again, always back to the safety of his kennel. Gradually, though, he would walk a few feet in a new direction before turning for “home”. He started to hunt for the treats I dropped, and started exploring more. We used his trusted human friends to entice him further away from his kennel and his dog friends to guide him the short distance to a nearby play yard.

As the behavior medication allowed him to fear less and learn more, instead of hiding in the back of his run, he would wait at the front for his human friends. He started progressing, one literal step at a time, but those steps added up. He set the agenda for where he wanted to go, and I asked him for one or two steps more than he would have taken on his own. We spent a lot of time sitting in the snow, in the mud, on the rocks and in the grass, watching daily shelter life unfold at a safe distance. The watching and waiting allowed him to learn to trust that I would not drag him closer than he chose to be, and it empowered him to move on his own when he was ready. We also worked on walking forward with the cue “Let’s Go” so he learned to move in situations he was already comfortable in.

Our biggest challenge was getting him to walk to the big play yard, a good distance away from his kennel. We had to cross an asphalt parking lot, weave through parked cars, dodge strangers walking trough the shelter and keep Baby Boy under threshold so he would still want to interact with his dog friends once he arrived at his destination. After weeks of sitting and looking over the vast expanse of asphalt that separated him from the trail that would lead to the play yard, it finally happened: Baby Boy looked at me, and I asked him to “Let’s Go”. There was a moment of tension on the leash as he hesitated, then he pushed in front of me, pulled me between the cars, over the asphalt, past the park bench and onto the trail. That huge breakthrough paved the way for Baby Boy to start walking in places that previously were impossible for him. He was introduced to carefully selected volunteers who worked with him on walking through the shelter, on the sidewalk in front of the shelter, entering and exiting cars and going to the local park.

Today, Baby Boy is eager to leave his kennel for whatever adventure awaits, and continues to learn skills like walking into a room, stepping onto a scale to be weighed and giving a “high five”. As he waits to find his forever home, his world is expanding with every new accomplishment.

*It must be noted that without the unflagging support from an extraordinarily dedicated group of volunteers and staff, Baby Boy would not be the dog he is today. I recounted my part in Baby Boy’s transformation, but by no means was I the only person working with Baby Boy. From our Director of Training and Enrichment, to our shelter vet, training department, shelter staff and volunteers, Baby Boy’s continued progress is due to the love and care of many wonderful people.