When we adopted Rinzler he was this adorable ball of 8 week old fluff. As far as we could tell, he was a moldable animal capable of learning how to be a participant of our family while we loved on him and looked forward to the years of joy a dog can bring to a household. What we didn't know was his full story. The shelter told us the bare bones details of his short life when we adopted him. It wasn't until recently that we discovered details that were very impactful for us all.
Not but two weeks into life with Rinzler, we discovered he had a rash. It took us a couple of weeks to determine that the rash was actually sarcoptic mange and not an allergy of some kind. Now, if you are not familiar with mange, there are two kinds. Demodectic mange is the more common form. It's a terrible nuisance, but it's fairly curable. Sarcoptic mange, on the other hand, is the less common but more severe and harder to beat form of mange. Plus, it's highly contagious even from pet to owner. At the same time we diagnosed the mange, we were keeping Rinzler up to date on his shots and treating him for worms.
We worked long and hard on getting that dog healthy. The mange was a terrible beast to tame. It wasn't until I did my own treatment research that the vet and I made an aggressive plan to rid us all of the tiny mite that kept our dog unhappy and all of us from cuddling and bonding with our little fur ball. Rinzler was fully five months old before we could say that he had a clean bill of health.
In the meantime, we were working on his behavior. Rinzler was, from the day he arrived, the most mouthy dog I had ever owned. We had to set strict limits on him and make expectations very clear so that he would know what was acceptable. Only, it didn't seem to click. Rinzler's mouthy behavior progressively and quickly moved toward aggression as he grew. We were cautioned that his poor demeanor could be a result of being so uncomfortable in his skin and we were encouraged to continue in our training efforts so that we could see improvements as he healed. Only we didn't.
Every time we tried a new tactic, Rinzler would respond well, for about three attempts, and then he'd challenge the tactic. And by challenge I mean he would act out aggressively. By May, I was ready to throw in the towel. Mind you, not only did we have this supreme challenge on our hands, but I was also taking care of John's broken ankle and all that the injury encompassed. We had a family meeting and by the end of our passionate discussion, it was clear that not everyone was ready to give up. We made plans to contact trainers for outside help as it seemed obvious that this was out of our ability range. We contacted multiple trainers, and surprisingly, none of them even called us back. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because I had been very face forward with the fact that we were handling an aggressive dog. Maybe not, but help was clearly not on the way.
Rinzler would show us that he understood the commands and that he could comply, but he was unsafe in an unpredictable way. We called them tantrums. It was kind of like dealing with a feisty two year old. All is well and the world is wonderful until what the child wants doesn't line up with what the child desires and the tantrum ensues. Only a toddler isn't likely to tear flesh open and cause severe damage.
Anything was a possible tantrum...
Want to go for a walk? Rinzler didn't like to leave the yard. He would snarl, growl, bite the leash and do what we called an alligator death roll until you would turn around and take him home. We never got more than four doors down and out of fear of reports of animal abuse, we pretty much gave up on walks.
Want to brush or wash the dirt out of his coat? Rinzler was a wrestling companion that was quick as lightening and just as deadly. We had to muzzle him to wash him but that didn't stop him from wrestling and he, more than once, was able to remove the muzzle mid bath. It was an exhausting and dangerous task. I'm sure that all if his mite treatments made him sensitive to being touched, but that didn't make the situation any better.
Want to play? Rinzler found every toy and all games too overstimulating. The first couple of ball tosses, or the first few pets were fine, but his reactivity level would go from 0-100 in no time flat. We always were at the ready to defend ourselves and the people around us.
Want to sit with him or cuddle? Rinzler couldn't sit still for more than 5 seconds and even just being with you would turn into aggression--either on his bed where he would begin to tear it up or on your body where he would bite.
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| We saw this expression more often than we saw peace or joy. The reality of that was heart sinking |
Finally, we were done. There was nothing else to try.
I called rescue organizations--no one would take him due to his behavior. I couldn't re-home him--I honestly could not think of a way to boast of his good points enough to make anyone want him. Honestly, he potty trained wonderfully, but beyond that all of his skills were lacking. I called the shelter to make an appointment for surrender. However, the shelter worker asked if I would be willing to come in for a training assessment, They wanted to offer us free training in an effort to keep him in our home. We truly didn't want to quit. Having a failed placement was no where near our goal, so I consented.
The day I went with Rinzler for an assessment was a very enlightening day. His file was shared with me in it's entirety that day for the first time. We learned that he had come from a drug house under a very shady surrender story and siblings of his that were not part of his current litter. The puppies he was brought in with were months older than him and he was the only tiny baby still nursing. No one knows what happened to the other tiny babies. Mom was a very fearful dog and all the pups and mom were separated upon arrival. Rinzler was not given the opportunity to have his full nursling time or his puppy pack play time. I learned that Rinzler had a umbilical hernia repaired and a lung infection so bad that they were not sure he was going to make it. He was a physically and emotionally fragile puppy when he was placed with us--only we did not know it.
The attendant explained that his behavior didn't fully surprise her because he was a "genetic fearful mess"--a fact they seemed to know but had not apprised us of. I spent two and a half hours there that day talking to her and having Rinzler evaluated. By the end of our time, Rinzler had bit me and drawn blood (unprovoked) and was deemed a dog that would need much training and lifestyle adjustments to compensate for his (MANY) fear triggers but that there was no guarantee that we could change any of them at all in the long run. I was told that he would never safely socialize with any other animal which would disqualify him from dog park and potentially disqualify us from boarding. I was told to have him wear a warning shirt or bandanna (Don't touch me--I bite) any time he was out in public. It was said that I should expect to keep him in a muzzle in order to have him safely interact with the family any time he was out of the crate and especially to keep everyone safe away from the house. I was not happy with the results of the assessment.
In the end, I was advised to share all of my new information with the family so that we could decide if we could make alter our idea of what having a pet (this pet) in the house would look like and if we could make the necessary lifestyle changes to accommodate Rinzler's special needs, and to realize that we may just need to make a hard choice. I went home overwhelmed. I tried to share information but there was so much to say. We ended the night by agreeing to revisit the topic the next day. However, when the next day dawned, the heaviness of the situation was not any lighter and the conversation was not any easier. We agreed to sit on the information for a day to really let it sink in before we could commit to anything. Very quickly though, we had to admit that what Rinzler needed did not mesh with a safe and enjoyable lifestyle for all of us under one roof. We made the hard choice to surrender.
Over the next week while we still had Rinzler--that was the first available appointment, which was tough but somewhat of a blessing--we all had spaces where we questioned our choice. Rinzler would enact what I likened to the abuse cycle. He would be great for a span and you would start to question your evaluation of him, thinking maybe, just maybe if you changed something then the relationship would work. Then Rinzler would turn on a dime and lash out with aggression which seemed to continue to escalate. This acting out would confirm that, indeed, Rinzler was not compatible with the family. All of us felt it and it weighed heavy on us all.
When the day came to return him to the shelter, we were as ready as we could be. The lag between making the appointment and going to the appointment gave us time to hash out our feelings, process, and begin the grieving process. Surrender of a dream, an expectation, a relationship is never easy.
Nikolas and I took Rinzler to the shelter. The intake rather quick and before long, we were saying goodbye to Rinzler and leaving without him. We made it to the car before the tears came. As Nikolas noted, even when you do the right thing, and you know it's the right thing to do, the completion of the action isn't necessarily easy.
A lot happened in our short time with Rinzler. We learned a lot. His part in our story is over, even though we are sure to remember and to talk about him for years to come.
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| Goodbye Rinzler. |
