One year, when I was wearing my Child & Family Therapist hat, I was helping families bond and interact with their infants and toddlers. I encouraged parents to read anything to their little ones, and was concerned about one parent in particular who had no books in the home. No books for adults. No books for children. I asked the parent if I could bring a few books the next time I visited and the response was, "Why? He can't read yet." This introduced a wonderful conversation about being your child's first teacher and the nurturing experience of being together and sharing moments of discovery when your child's world opens up.
I was reminded of this conversation as I covered myself in guilt about Atticus having no off-leash time in his life. The days have been so focused on Foster's health since June, that no one has been getting my best. I've been praying that at least everyone's basic needs have been met each day, and I'm not always confident that that has been accomplished. Being able to run is a basic need in my opinion, and going on bike runs helps, but it's not the same as running freely, no strings attached.
Atticus had to be an "X" dog at the kennel before he came home. "X" dogs are unable to socialize with the groups of dogs due to safety. Sometimes, the safety issue involves health - illness, joint issues, surgery recovery - but in Atticus' case, it involved behavior. During his time at the kennel, Atticus had become increasingly antagonistic. He either started fights with other dogs through annoying, dominant, bullying behavior, or if other dogs were playing or using their voices, Atticus wanted in on it and escalated interactions into fights. He ran and leapt over dogs, and had also begun to show aggression over food. A piece of kibble on the floor would have him pouncing on any dog nearby within milliseconds. Plus, once Atticus had pinned a dog with his body and mouth, he didn't let go. Atticus had some behavior challenges, but he was mine, and I brought him home with the plan to work on them all.
We worked on them all. Atticus learned and we learned. He learned that only the food I gave to him was his, and that food was plentiful and fairly and consistently provided. We learned that he whined and nearly howled upon seeing dogs outside our family, and as a possible Treeing Walker Coonhound he might never be safe in our community off-leash.
Atticus is a young and curious dog. He needs a lot of physical and mental activity to properly exercise his heart and mind, and to be a happy and fulfilled family member. Bike runs with J are fun, but they aren't as great as running on your own, no leash attached, sniffing wherever you want, making some choices about your life with your safety provided by me. It seemed like a dog park would provide everything that Atticus needed, except for that whole fighting and pinning dogs down thing.
Then I remembered the parent who believed books were only for when you knew how to read. I knew that you couldn't learn how to read until you had books and had them read to you. I couldn't expect Atticus to spontaneously be appropriately social in dog group settings without providing him with dog group settings and guiding his behavior.
I started small with a few dog walking clients. When I learned that his whining was excitement and not I-want-to-eat-that, I guided him to be calm before interacting in a controlled environment like the house or garage, and then we walked together. Still not the same as acres of running room, so the dog park had to happen. I'm not a huge fan of dog parks with the community water and the inattentive humans, but I knew Atticus needed it, so we went, and he showed his wonderfulness.
Atticus ran and ran and sniffed grass and posts and other dogs. He greeted dogs as they came and he seemed to escort those leaving. He leaned against people and retrieved tennis balls. He loved the puppies and he ran to find Foster Dog who likes to walk the perimeter. He observed Luna drinking and tried it himself. He ran and ran…and he humped a white Golden Retriever three times… I gently corrected him each time and encouraged him to explore and sniff. I whistled for him and called for him and he came each time, even from across the park. I didn't see him even consider jumping the four feet tall fence surrounding the Big Dog Area even when he noticed dogs in the Little Dog Area. Everyone started to tire after about an hour and we came back together as The Pack and left. It was so great.
If I had waited until Atticus no longer grabbed Foster Dog's legs, or until he wasn't more interested in squirrels and deer than my voice, I never would have taken him to a dog park. I had to remember that learning by doing, and experiencing, and observing, and being guided and supported is the best. We've had challenges, and even mistakes and failures, but it is my job to provide My Pack with the chance to show me how smart and observant and wonderful we are.
