CONOR GETS BITTEN BY OUR OWN PET DOG
I heard our 4-year old come down the stairs. Our little tornado. What I didn’t see was that he stopped to hug our 12-year old dog.
What I didn’t see was that the dog was on the couch, a big ‘no-no.’ I didn’t see Conor reach out to hug him. I didn’t see the bite occur.
I was only 10 feet away. Preparing dinner. Digging in the fridge. Opening a beer. It all happened in a blink of an eye.
The scream was deafening. The blood was everywhere. My son ran to me as I ran to him. I had failed as a dad.
My 4-year old cried to me, “I’m okay, daddy. I’m okay.” I hugged him and pretended that it was all okay. But it wasn’t.
My wife was right there, too. We both missed what was happening. She was grabbing towels to clean the mess. What the hell happened?
She called our neighbor, the nurse. The neighbor ran over. Looked. And said, “Take him to the doctor.” Crap.
25 stitches and 8 hours later, we were on our way home. The next day the dog was at the kennel. 10 days later, the dog was on the one farm where dogs can run to their hearts content with no rules. Forever.
Conor still says he wants his dog back. Other times he says he doesn’t want to be a pet owner anymore. I don’t know what I want.
Conor still hugs dogs. And occasionally asks for a new puppy. I still cringe when he hugs dogs. But I bite my lip. Kids are resilient. Parents, not so much.
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TIME FOR A SECOND OPINION ON DOG VS. BABY
Early on in my wife’s pregnancy, I wrote an article on how dogs and newborns get along (click here.) As the final week approaches until our first child’s arrival, we decided to get one last opinion on whether our dog can handle a newborn and whether or not we needed to beware of anything. So, after finding a trainer that specializes in training police dogs as well as public canines, we decided to have our dog evaluated by a respected trainer.
We arrived in the quaint and upscale neighborhood of Brookline Village as the sun was setting. I easily found a parking place and fed the meter its quarters. It ate them like a hungry dog at dinner time. Then myself, Val and El Dog marched across the street to the training center. There were dogs milling about and El Dog was extremely alert as the strange dogs passed by.
As we entered the facility, we were told to go downstairs where our trainer, Francis, was waiting. We pointed out that our dog wasn’t perfectly socialized and may cause a stir. The trainers said, “Great, you’re at the right place. Go downstairs where the dog will get socialized.” So we headed into the basement via the creaky, narrow staircase.
When we got downstairs, there was a class going on and there were 6 dogs in a perfect down stay as a clown of an instructor was skipping around, making a loud racket, juggling tennis balls and letting them fall where they may. The exercise was to teach the dogs to remain in a down position even with the highest distractions around them. It was teaching them self control. It was working. Only one dog popped up to play with the tennis balls. The others were bored and looked at their owners to see if they might be able to play. The owners did not give them permission. It was impressive to watch.
Meanwhile, our dog was excited as hell and wanted to run into the room and grab tennis balls and wreak havoc. El Dog looked at me and I shook my head,” no.” He begrudgingly succumbed and stopped pulling on the leash. Then Francis, our instructor, came over to evaluate El Dog. He pet El Dog and El Dog sniffed him and decided that Francis was okay. Francis asked Val how far along she was and when she said 9 months, he suggested we get started training immediately. We all laughed. Seems everyone has a joke about a pregnant lady ready to give birth.
It’s important that the dog know his place and be happy in that place within the pack. When the baby arrives, we want the dog to be happy there’s a baby in the house, not disappointed with the baby. And he said that it’s easy to do. He asked us if we had a baby doll that could stand in for the real baby that was on its way. We told him we had one. He said, “Do you have the baby powder and diaper cream and other stuff that you can put on the baby doll?” We told him that we did. He said, “Great, put it on the baby doll and pretend that baby is your baby. Walk around the house and gush over it like you will your real baby when it arrives. When the dog comes over to check it out, it gets treats. Then when it decides the baby is no big deal and that it can lay down, the dog gets a treat for that, too. It’s good to be around the baby and its good to leave it alone. That's the message.
Valerie had lots more questions. “What if the dog thinks the baby is an animal and wants to eat it? The trainer looked at Val like she had three heads. “Why do you think the dog would want to eat your baby?,” he asked. “Well, you hear about those things in the news,” Val said matter-of-factly. The trainer agreed that these things happen now and again but that it’s rarely the fault of the dog. It’s almost always something the owners did with the dog that eventually ratchets up the dog to do something drastic.Val pointed out that our dog wasn’t exactly social around other dogs and would this cause El Dog to act differently than most dogs? The trainer said, “Well, do you mind if I take El Dog and work with him for a minute?” ”Go ahead,” I said, “but I need to know that you’re not going to do something drastic with my dog like pick him up off the floor by his leash or anything like that because that’s not okay with me.” He said that’s not how he trains dogs but that it was a fair question. So I gave him El Dog and he put a pinch collar on him and took him out into the room with the other dogs and had him stand there while the other dogs were in a down-stay. El Dog just stood there and watched the other dogs. At one point, he decided he wanted to smell the doberman closest to him and the trainer gave him a stern pop of the leash and El Dog no longer was interested in sniffing the doberman. After about 3 minutes in the middle of the room with the other dogs, Francis came back with El Dog and said, “I’ve seen enough to tell me what I need to know.” Val and I both leaned forward and said, “Well, what did you see?”
Francis said, “Your dog’s not even on my radar.” We leaned closer. Francis continued, “If your dog was aggressive beyond a healthy dose of canine aggressiveness, He would have lunged, at those dogs. As soon as I gave him a correction, he backed down and said, “Francis, you’re the boss.” He allowed me to be the protector. Your dog is good, trained and smart. He just needs to be fine-tuned. He said that many Pitt-mixes have a dose of aggression but that’s it’s natural and they simply need to know how to control it and channel it through play, exercise and self-discipline.
After an hour of talking to Francis, we felt comfortable that he was the trainer for us as we learn how to fine-tune our abilities to train El Dog and continue to socialize him with other dogs so that he’s a pleasure to take on walks with our newborn no matter who we come across on the streets.
As we begin to wrap up our conversation, a few people with German shepards began to arrive and a trainer came in dressed all in quilted leather from head to toe. I recognized this from videos; shutzhund. This is a very specialized training for advanced dogs. As part of the training, the dogs are taught to attack on command. We found ourselves in the middle of a class of attack german shepards. El Dog was on full alert. The first dog marched around the room with his owner looking every 1/2 second at his owner as they walked. This dog was amazingly attentive and alert. He looked like he was having fun. Then the owner took him off his leash and gave a command to attack the trainer. Suddenly, the dog went from alert and smiling, to growling, barking and biting. It was a treat to watch a dog channel his aggression appropriately and only on command. El Dog was at full attention, he head was straight up and cocked to the side, trying to figure out what was going on and his tail was wagging.
We agreed that it would be amazing if he could control himself in the midst of such aggression nearby. We said our goodbyes and headed upstairs and out the back door into the dark alley. As we exited onto the safety of the Brookline Village sidewalks and onto the perfect village storefronts, it was like stepping out of a movie and back into reality. We looked at each other and begin to laugh, “What just happened back there?” It was surreal. In a dark basement in snobby Brookline Village, was a team of African American dog trainers teaching police dogs how to attack criminals and young professionals how to control their dogs on the quiet streets of provincial Boston. And after an hour in the underbelly of Boston, we had been regurgitated back into the safe, quiet, picture-perfect streets of one of the most prestigious neighborhoods of Boston.
We took El Dog back to the car, locked the doors and dipped into a chic Italian restaurant called, Pomadero, and I sipped a red wine and had spaghetti while Val had Carbonara and settled for water. After all, she still can’t drink for three more days. Or until our first child enters the world and rides El Dog, our pit-mix, into the sunset.