Early in 2001, we had gotten a couple of calls from a lady about 25 miles up the freeway.  She worked with a large dog rescue group but somehow she had gotten a small Cairn and he was a quiet little guy.  She decided at some point to get a partner for her Cairn.  She went to her local puppy farm and bought a 2nd Cairn.   This puppy gave her problems because of  what I would call his terrier habits.  Her first Cairn had been through some kind of traumatic accident and was pretty much a lap dog and she assumed that was typical of all Cairns. This new puppy wasn’t that kind of dog, indeed he seemed just the opposite.

Anyway, I couldn’t respond immediately because I had a rescue dog in residence already.  It seemed like this was not an emergency problem,  that is until I got the next call.  She told me she also did some child sitting and the puppy bit at the face of a two year old.  She said he didn’t break the skin but that there was a red mark.  It was time for an immediate pickup.  I needed to remove part of that bad equation, young Cairns + young kids + no direct supervision = a problem, possibly serious.

After I took the call, my wife and I drove right up.  The baby sitting kids were gone by the time we got there.  The lady also fostered German Shepherds for a large rescue group but she had put them in a backroom.  I walked out to the back and spotted this nice looking small Cairn over by a garage door.  As I started to move to the dog, the lady said, “No, that is not him, the puppy is right there.”  I looked down and there was this huge pile of dog, a very huge pile, head down, tied to a clothesline.  I was tentative about directly approaching him but he was OK with that.  As I took the clothesline off, the lady said she had just put him on the line.  The worn spots on rope belied that.  He had probably always been on the clothesline for a long time and for long stretches of time.  It is certainly possible that the kids would tease a dog on a string.

His vet workup mentioned aggressive behavior but the only complaint from the vet was when he growled at the thermometer stuck in his nether end.  The other comments were reflective of the lady’s opinion because, even as a young puppy, he would not put up with the GSD’s that wanted to tell him what to do.  To someone who wasn’t used to being in charge, I’m sure a puppy who took over, was a challenge and she might see his behavior as aggressive.  Still, it was a warning to me to be careful.

We took him out on a leash, and went to the van.  This guy was huge, eventually I would weigh him in at 31#.  I had my wife drive and I sat in the back with him.  I must tell you, I was tentative about handling him.  When I get a dog that might have issues, I have a pair of heavy welders gloves that I bring along.  I had my gloves on and this time I did little more than assure him that he was in good hands.

Once we got home, my wife insisted that we get some of that hair off before we do anything else.  The excess hair made him look even larger than he was, and he was already huge.   I put him on the table, and started stripping.  He was OK with part of it but when I got to areas he felt were private or sensitive, the growling started.  It would be the first of those battles, all of which he would lose.  As I got to the first area, he growled and swung around as though he wanted to deliver a bit of tooth.  Completely unacceptable, especially from a “new boy”.

I had him on the floor in a trice, my gloved hand at his throat, and I yelled and growled at him, my face right up to his.  He looked angry, then he blinked, once, twice, and then gave me that look that said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I shouldn’t do that.”  I released him, put him back, being very cautious, and put the noose over his head and began stripping him again.

Later, he decided that while he wouldn’t complain to me, it was OK if he did it to my wife, the head stripper.  Once again on the floor, this time she was in his face and he blinked again, “Damn, there are two of them.”  The rest of the time as we removed a ton of hair, a simple “No’ would stop any thoughts of complaints or growling.

After that one long afternoon on the table, with firm corrections, he never, ever, raised a lip, acted like he wanted to growl, or do anything that neared a confrontation.  It was an amazing transformation.  I think, in part, due that that immediate and an positive change, he is right at the top of my list  of most favorite travelers passing through.  Don’t get me wrong, I continued to monitor him and it would be a few days before I didn’t have my gloves close at hand.

We got him in reasonable shape, coat wise and then I put him on my major diet.  It is harsh but it works.  He got a 1/4 cup of kibble, and then a couple of handfuls of Rice Krispies, or a knockoff, and some canned pumpkin.  The last two items were there so he would fill his large stomach to some extent and so he would not finish eating before the other guys.  When I talked to the lady that surrendered him, it was clear that she gave him the same diet and the same amount of food she gave the GSD’s.

Getting him to understand what a crate was took just one night.  It was not his favorite place but once he saw the other dogs going in, plus the small snack for a dog on a diet, he grew to accept it.

He had to learn to behave on the leash, following my lead was OK but if a strange dog came by, he got agitated and wanted to engage.   We worked on that, he was getting better but was still willing to offer a challenge if not corrected.  He seemed to have a fetish about birds, not just those that flew over in flocks but especially those that dared light in his trees.

He got along fine with our pack and assumed the role of #5, we had another rescue in residence, plus our three, so he was bumped further down the pecking order.  He missed much of that pack behavior in his old environment and was glad to part of one.  Our youngest was half his size but of the same age and they got along famously.  He had to approach the alpha on bended knee from time to time when he screwed up but at least he was learning where he fit in the pack.

We got 10# off of him, that was 1/3 of his weight, in short order.  It is a harsh diet but it really works.   We kept his walks  going, the exercise and the exposure to other dogs all helped address some of the behavior issues, it was time to start the trip down Rescue Road. It would take three trips to complete the journey.

So, baggage and all, we are off.

Down the Road

Once Again

The Long Ride