Digging Is His Unhealthy Obsession

October 1st, 2012

Things were going so great with Drake.  He was fitting in with all of my loverlies and learning everything I threw at him.  Had to go on a dog sitting job and I had been making plans to have a dear friend of mine drive down from the Dallas area to join me on a trip to my home town of Beeville.  There we were going to have a 50 year reunions of sorts.  50 years of friendship.  I had make my hostess aware that I would have to bring him, but had reassured him of his progress.

I had been outside with all of my dogs etc working in the yard.  I had the sprinklers on and was having a great morning.  I decided to go in to fix lunch.  As a habit my dogs all follow me in and out most of the day.  I did notice that Drake did not follow me in, but I saw him and didn't have a worried thought as I sat down for lunch.

As I started back outside, I noticed I couldn't see him anywhere.  I ran outside with my eyes sweeping the yard from left to right and back again.  I moved off the porch, still searching.  Suddenly I saw my Mexican Pansies moving, like wind gently blowing.  It caught my attention.  As I moved closer I could see him.  Digging as fast as he could and then tried to shove his whole body through the hole and under the fence.  Then  dig, dig, push again.  I could not believe my eyes.  He was almost out of the yard.

I felt panic as I ran the last few steps to grab him.  He was covered in mud and defiant as I picked him up.  When I put him down, you know by now what he did.  Started digging again frantically.  I grabbed him several times before removing him to the house.  I had to put him in his crate.  He was barking and crying at the doggie door because I had closed it.  I ran outside and begin to drag a couple of eight feet four by twos over to bury in the ground behind the fence, so he couldn't get out.  i did sixteen feet, but would have to watch him now until I could get the wood to finish.

He was in that same manic state that he would get into when playing in water or spinning in my bath tub.  It was that "60" that I talked about in the beginning.  It just seemed that I didn't know what would start him off next.  It wasn't just his manic behavior, but I cold not seem to bring him out of it.  I thought I would have to just be aware of him at the bath tub or in pools of water, but now it was under a fence.  If I didn't know what to redirect him from, what was I to do.  If anything and everything could set him off, how could I redirect him.  How could I help him.  I knew that I was not equipped to handle him when he got into that state.  He would just have to wear himself out sleep and then eventually go to bed.  Try again the next day.

 

Then had been the most serious so far, in so many ways.  He would have been helpless if he had gotten out.  I might have lost him or worse.  The other thought was, is this how we got him in the first place?  Did he escape from a loving owner that did not know his fate?  Had he gotten into the state we found him in by his own demons.  What had he been through?  How much farther did we have to go before we could help his anxiety or whatever is throwing him into these states.  I needed to get him tagged.  I needed to put some notifications on craigs list in Houston, just in case.  I can't imagine loosing him and having to imagine horrible endings, instead of knowing.  Most of all I have to learn how to help him.  I am so over my head.  I have to find some knowledge hidden deep in me that I haven't remembered yet.  So many years of rescue dogs, so many different problems, so many of my own pets, so many years of experience.  I just felt over whelmed and I knew that basically that was what was wrong with my boy.

Two Hundred Dollar Tummy Ache

September 30, 2012

I vaguely remembered that Drake had tried to vomit through the night.  When I woke up I say a couple of spots that just looked wet.  It wasn't pee and didn't look like vomit.  I was due to change the sheets anyway, so just had to strip the sheets a little earlier than I had planned.

I noticed that he was moving a little slowly and when I tried to feed him breakfast, he didn't eat a kibble.  He lay around most of the morning and instead of worrying, I admit that this quieter version of my usually very busy boy was a nice change.

Just as I began to really get things done, he began to hack like he wanted to vomit.  All that came up was a little clear water, with the slightest tinge of red.  It looked like it could be blood.  I just couldn't be sure.  His mood was so somber, that I admit, I began to worry about him.  I thought, well I will just watch him.  I was beginning to think he must have eaten something that he was attempting to throw up. 

They had told me in prison to always pick up the stuffing out of his toys because he would eat them.  I had seen him attempt to eat his rubber toys and the squeakers that came out of them.  Now I starting making phone calls and describing his morning to friends.  One of my friends said that if I really thought that he might have eaten something, that the vet might be able to make him throw it up instead of having to remove it surgically.  I still hesitated until I saw him throw up tons of water.  I hadn't even seen him drink any, but it wasn't going down.  I called the vet and she was in, but of course it was Saturday and about 12 minutes after they closed.  I knew it would be an emergency call, but decided not to wait.

As the vet examined Drake, her urgency seemed to fade.  She said that he seemed fine, she didn't feel anything.  The dog didn't seem stressed.  I said let's take an ex ray, I just knew something was wrong.  As they left the exam room, for the ex ray room, I thought could it be something that poisoned him?  Around the corner they both came.  Dr. Moore said, "The only thing I see is an enormous amount of feces".   What?  He was vomiting and gaging.  She explained that some dogs get nauseous when they get constipated.  Did I want something for the nausea, she asked.  Yes, but for me.  Not for that dog with the little upset stomach from constipation.  I knew that just walking in the door was over one hundred dollars and it was sounding like a two hundred stomach ache to me. 

 

She gave him a shot for his nausea and I paid the bill.  As I put him in the car, my anger immediately turned to relief.  I was so happy that he was going to be fine.  She had suggested that I stop on the way home and get a little canned pumpkin for his food to help his "sticky" situation, so of course I did.  She said that he had to eat to get things moving.  He did and it did and I was relieved.  I looked at his odd little face when he was asleep, I recognized what I was feeling as love.  In spite of everything that was happening on a daily basis, and everything that I was sure would come, I loved the little bugger.  I also knew that as much as he would tear my world apart, that he would add so much to it.

He Smells The Tail That Wags

September 29th, 2012

The next morning after arriving home from my house/doggie sitting job, Drake seemed calm.  He was even approaching my dogs to smell them first.  He wagged his tail and I saw him do a play bow several times, but unfortunately the dog had moved on, not seeing him trying to play.  Most of my pack is too old to want to play, but there are a couple that I hold out hope for a play mate.  I have been told by Paws that he does like to play.  I am hoping for that to happen.

With Drake calmer, I decided he could and should spend more time in the back yard.  It had dried up from my watering, so I was hoping he could explore.  Explore he did.  He seemed so happy again.  He did spin in a few spots, but I would touch his color area and he would be fine.  He did not want me to take him in, so when he would feel me, he would turn and go the opposite way.  Like a kid would.  I would smile every time.

 

I noticed that he paid much attention to the donkey, but when I went back to check on him.  I found the fascination was not with Cisco, but with his poo.  Drake thought it smelled delicious and wanted to eat it soo-oo-o badly.  I tried my best to redirect him away from the donkey and eventually he smelled the chickens.

I know I shouldn't have laughed or be laughing now, but funny is funny.  I will have to start by telling you about my rooster Ruby.  Yep, Ruby is sorta a girl's name, but he deserves it.  It was after the  fire we had last September.  I was trying to reunite pets with their owners and was going out to the local shelter every day.  I kept seeing this small white chicken sitting in a little bird cage, laying in front of bird food.  So on the ninth day I asked what they were going to do with it.  They said, they didn't know what to do with her.  Nobody had claimed her.  I said I have a couple of chickens and could I just take her home.  They said, sure.  As I picked it up to take, I noticed that the feet were all burned on the bottom.  It looked and smelled infected, so I took it straight to the vet.  She said it had a 106 degree temperature, was heavily infected and might not make it.  However, she said 50/50, so I said let's try to save her.  Two months of changing bandages every four days and treating her burns, the vet deemed her well.  The only problem was as the two months went by not only did she heal, but she started to crow.  Now I had two hens, Juanita and Lacey, so you would think romance was inevitable.  The only problem with that was, while we saved Ruby's life, he lost all his toes from the advanced infection.  So when poor Ruby would try to woo Juanita or Lacey and would jump on a back, he had nothing to hold on with.  Just his beak, but he would oh so slowly slide to the side and then to the ground.  Well, I had entertained myself with that maneuver for months.  I will never know if Juanita's eggs had any little Ruby's in them, but it sure was fun to watch him try.

Back to Drake.  I was about to watch sweet little blind Drake kill Ruby and Ruby kill him right back.  Drake would get the scent.  Nose in the air straight to the chickens, of course the chickens had the advantage of sight.  So they would run, not Ruby.  He was ready to fight for his girls.  Problem being roosters fight with their feet (eh toes).  Rudy posing, Drake running the wrong way.  Chickens gone, Drake could never even get close enough to Ruby for him to get a swing with his little nubs.  Now, again, I know I shouldn't have laughed, not to mention be smiling as I'm writing.  However, it might be one of those things that you had to be there for, but I hope one person gets a smile at the expense of my great little ban of animals.

Changing Locations

September 23rd-28th

Today was the first day of a house/doggie sitting job.  I occasionally would watch my neighbors pets while they would travel or if they had an emergency.  Originally I thought this job was for next week and Drake would have more time to adjust to his new home, before having to stay in another home.  I had explained everything to the people that I was going to work for, and they had suggested that I come over a few times be fore they left.  Drake could map and be familiar with the pet and the house before we went.  We had been over three times.  Drake seemed to enjoy it.

He did great at their house.  He used their doggie door, ignored their dog, just as he had mine.  He ate well.  I never saw him stressed.  He would spin very rarely outside.  I thought he was more happy in their home than he was in his home.  They only had one dog there, she ignored him.  They had a smaller home, one story.  I didn't have to water the yard.   I think his transition would be much easier at our home if we did not have a seven pack household.  I kept most of their house and especially the bathroom closed off.  I was always that the size and lay out of my home would be a challenge.  He didn't seem to find things to obsess over, much like his life behind bars probably would have been.

So I just bonded with him, played with the other dog and enjoyed my time in my neighbor's home.  I knew that they would be home and I would go back to the transition of Drake into my world.

A Garden Tub Is My Nemesis

September 22nd, 2012

Wow!  Now he seemed to want nothing but to spin in the tub.  He wouldn't stay out of the tub.  I knew I had to stop this.  It was quickly becoming a neurotic experience and he was obsessing.  What could I do.  I had created him a play room, hoping to replicate the cell he had been living in size and play area.  By narrowing down the area for him to be at any one time, I had thought would keep him from being overwhelmed.  Here he was, as overwhelmed as I had seen him.  He was not having fun, he was acting out in some bizarre way and for some bizarre reason that I did not understand.

Splish, Splash, Now He Needs A Bath

September 21st, 2012

As I did my morning ritual with my Drake, I noticed he was more curious about the backyard.  I slowed down and took my time.  I decided that this after noon I wold bring him out with me and do some watering.  My poor yard had been so neglected, like everything else, since this wonderful creature had come into my life.  Maybe it was just boredom.  Besides it had been nine days since he had moved in, with his precious ball.

As first it was fabulous.  He had always been so independent.  That is the very first thing I had noticed about him the day I first laid my eyes on him.  He was in a very big room, with lots of chairs and tables.  It was the visiting room, so it certainly was not empty.  There he was navigating around at full speed.  Tail and nose high, you would have never guessed that he was blind, much less further impaired with his loss of hearing.  I was seeing that same confidence, as he navigated around my yard.  He visited all my out door pets.  Smelled them and showed no fear, just a healthy curiosity.

Then it happened.  I had been watering and some of the water had run down and formed a little shallow river.  Drake found it.  At first it was just barking and spinning.  I would touch him and he would move a little,but was still near the water.  He had loved water while at Paws.  They said one of his best tricks was to be showed a stone, that would fit into his mouth.  Then they would throw it in their shallow little pond (container purchased from Tractor Supply), and he would retrieve it.  So, thinking that he would have the same reaction, I found a stone.  He showed no interest, just continued with his spinning.  Now he was frantically digging and barking.  It was not a healthy game, he was manic.  I picked him up, took him to the kitchen for a quick rinse off.  As soon as I rinsed him off, I put him down.  He ran out my doggie door into the back yard and the mud.  By the time I arrived, he was muddier that the first time. 
 
Everything seemed to turn into some seemingly obsessive and manic behavior.  His joy always seemed to turn bad.  I had to take him into the house, give him a full on bath and lock the doggie door.  He cried and would spin at the door, so I eventually took him upstairs to play in his play room.  I was going to have to really monitor him, especially when he seemed to be having a good time.  That is what always lead to trouble.  How sad I thought, he can't seem to relax enough to just enjoy anything.

A Tiger By The Tail

September 20th, 2012

Because he seemed to be a little calmer upstairs without any other dogs, I decided to keep my routine the same for now.  Wake up out the front door, around backyard, into the kitchen for morning training.  Then upstairs for playing and first pill.  The issue of that darn bath tub was again going to be an issue.  In the tub, I had started throwing his "special occasion ball" to make his fun last a little longer.  It would give me about 2 more minutes.  It was frustrating, but I didn't want to close the door to the bathroom, it was such a great area for him.  I knew I had to come up with something.  As I watched him play with his ball in the tub, I had a really bad thought.  Things could get worst.  What if he somehow destroyed or lost the ball.  I had asked Machelle about getting more and she said she had no idea where it came from.  It had been very popular and if I found it to get a couple extra.  Well, I had begun to feel guilty about taking the ball out of the mouth of another dog.  Of course that feeling had not bothered me until, I had said ball, safely to my house.  I quickly found the exact ball online.  Found 'em, ordered 'em. bam.  Done.  Now back to the tub debacle.  As I watched him, I saw him go from 1 to 60 so fast.

I haven't shared with you about a "60".  That was his umber fit.  They were horrible and I think extremely hard on Drake.  He would go into them so fast.  He would become angry, spin like I thought he would turn into butter and his bark would sound more like a yelp.  I would pick him up from behind, as I had been taught by my ladies at Paws.  Wrap both arms around his chest, and hold on for his outburst.  He trust around yelping, throwing his head from side to side, and fighting me with all of his strength.  I would sit down to conserve my strength.  His yelp would slowly turn into whimpers.  It was not unusual for him to turn his head and lick my mouth, as he would melt into my arms.  You had to continue to hold him for awhile and make sure he was okay.  If you would start to reach down to release him too soon, he would immediately try to rip himself away from you.  Then you would have to pull him back for a short struggle.  If you let him get down, it would start all over again.   It was as close as I would come, or even imagine coming to, having a tiger by his tail.

The fits look like a temper fit, but I have never thought they were that simple.  He will spin and always will, it is part of mapping.  All blind dogs do this to make sure where they are.  He does it all day, but comes out of it by his self.  What causes these '60" fits?  Are they frustration, manipulation of me, senses overwhelmed, fear or are they all for different reasons.  I am trying so hard to understand, if I could, I could really help Drake.  In my journey to locate a reason, I did reach out to another blogger, named Harold Gale.  His blog is called Blind Dogs Forever.  He has much scientific information and really did teach me alot about the double dapples.  However, this is an emotional outburst and only I can figure this out.  Research, watch over him and continue to take all his fears away and replace them with trust.  Well, that sound pretty darn simple.

,

Back To The Research Table

September 19th, 2012

The next day did seem calmer.  I developed a little routine that would work for me and would help him.  When he awoke, I would take him out the front door as planned for his walk and morning potty.  Change his route home through the back gate, and do my guided tour around the back yard.  Then when we got into the kitchen, I had picked a area on a rug for training.  He would train and get his morning 1/2 cup of food for breakfast.  Then upstairs, his morning pill and then he would quietly play for a couple of hours until time for his next walk.  Then I could begin a leisurely morning and finally get something done.

Lasted for about 10 minutes.  I heard him barking loud, I ran to the bathroom, there he was in my huge garden tub, spinning.  I couldn't believe he had been able to jump into the tub.  However, I thought how cute, and through his ball into tub to play.  Remember his "special occasion ball", which had become his "car ball",.  Well, it had become his "only thing to shut him up ball" and he had it with him at all times.  He seemed to be so happy to have the ball.  Again, I went to start my morning over again.  Only to hear his familiar bark.  Seems he could not get out of the tub and that ball was now his "boring ball".  I removed him and his ball from the tub.  Back to playing he went, I felt encouraged after watching him for another 10 minutes.  Third time will be the charm, I thought. No, no, there would be no charm today.

The next hour was spent training me to get him out of the tub, every few minutes.  Drake in, ball in, both out.  Exhausted, I put him in his crate a little earlier than planned and a little more often than planned.  I had only created another problem.  The play room was used, but not for very long at a time.   Honestly, I thought my ideas were good.  I knew they would work, if given enough time, but what to do about the tub.  As the day continued, I tried to stayed positive.  He had cut down on the spinning, he was much calmer with my new scheduled and did I think this was going to be easy?  Of course not.  Had I made progress, yes.  He continued to not want to share space with any of my dogs.  Most of them kept trying to approach him.  There was still a list of  problems to live a normal life with this sweet, intelligent dog.  I trusted my instincts more and knew there was more information to be found.  I would have to dig deeper and expand my circle of advisers.  Time, I have always known that time was your best friend in every occasion.  So, I would be calling on my old friend once again. 

Pack Leader Relies on Instinct

September 18th, 2012

Now that he had his drugs increased,   The manic behavior was so improved, that I began to study his actions.  The girls at Paws had given me a lot of information, but I was finding that many of his actions were new.  As far as we knew, he had never lived in a home as a companion, so his transition took many forms.  I had noticed that he seemed more comfortable in my bedroom area.  Because by spending time in the entire house might be overwhelming,  I limited his time in the other areas of the home.  Wanted him to use one area, let him get comfortable, and see if that would help the spinning.  I had a large bath room connected to my bedroom, so I decided I would make him a big play area. I put a large rug down for him to play on.  All of his toys were put in a plastic container under the vanity, between the double sinks, where he could get them. 

I put his crate in my bedroom.  Inside the crate I put a couple of t-shirts, that I had slept in, with the little blankets from the Paws girls.  I put a toy that he could not destroy inside.  Beside my bed I put a purple donot shaped bed.  In the bed, his little favorite bone, so he could stop to rest and chew.  I did not let any other dogs up there until night time.  Those changes seem to make him calmer.  He played with his toys, running back and forth.  I had not wanted to use water to correct him, but decided to get a squirt gun.  I was afraid that by me touching him everytime he would spin, was trainig me instead of him.  Also, saved me a few steps and believe me when dealing with Drake, every step saved was needed.  Any time that he would circle and bark, I gave him one quick squirt.  I do not understand why, but 95% of the time, that little quick squirt stops him.

The other problem that I had noticed during the first week, he did not like the backyard, unless I had him on leash.  Also, he would not use my doggie door. He knew it would take him outside, but he would stand at the front door and bark.  The doggie door was in the back.  At this point I decided to take him out the front door to potty and a short walk.  He loved his little walks.  I took him three or four times a day..  After his little walk, I would then take him to the back yard through the gate instead of the back door.  I would keep him on leash and walk him around the yard.  I would then take him in the back door, letting him walk around for about thirty minutes and then take him back upstairs.

I felt good about all of the changes that I had made.  Hopefully, they will make him feel comfortable, keep him independent and he will stop the spinning.  I had discovered that the spinning could be a part of his mapping.  Mapping is what a blind dog does when he gets into a new situation and wants to knows where he is as he moves around.  Every night I researched his actions from the day to try to understand him.  That night, I smiled as I held him in my arms, and dozed off myself.  I thought that my reaearch days were over.

Got To Get You Into My Life

September 15th, 16th, and 17th

So the week-end came, and the week-end went.  Drake continued to be the center of each day, he was controlling me.  As much as I was beginning to resent him, I was also started to connect with him.  See his anxiety, starting to see what he needed when he barked,  Even when he would spin.  I was just so frustrated and tired from his antics I couldn't even think.  He needn't help, but I needed rest.

Monday morning, as I listened to my dogs growl and Drake bark, I had a thought which accidental floated into my tired brain.  Maybe Drake was as exhausted as I was.  He was currently on an anti- anxiety, half a pill in the morning and half a pill in the evening.  The girls had told me what a difference that pill had made for him.  They had tried several things, but this really had turned a corner for them.  So I thought, since he is going through this transition with me, maybe he needs to up his meds to get him through this big change. I was certainly using more Advil for Migraines.  One pill had helped him, he was already settled.  Now he was anything but settled.  So I got the name of his vet from his pill box and called him.  He was great, he said to up it to one pill in the morning and one pill in the evening.  He said if I did not see a change in a couple of days that he would give me a little stronger medication.  Suddenly a feeling of hope, allowed a smile to accidentally make it though my tired facial muscles, and faintly cross my lips.

I gave him a whole pill that morning, and by the time I gave him his second pill, I could see such a change in his anxiety.  He slowed down, everything he did slowed down.  It was a little scary at first, I guess it was guilt.  It just got so much easier, so fast.  I was hoping he was not ,going to be drowsy and his personality changed.  He had suddenly started napping several times a day, but still going to sleep at the same time.  By the second day, I realized that he was as happy as I  was with his new speed.  Things certainly weren't perfect.  We still had so many issues, but this new and improved Drake, was such a welcome change.

So he's in the car........

September 12, 2012
I say good bye to all of the wonderful ladies at Paws in Prison and we walk away from his home of the last six months.  The ladies had given me a care package before I left.  His favorite toys, a couple of small blankets, that each of his trainers had slept with for the last week, so he would have their smell in his new crate/bed.  They had also sent his "special occasion ball".  They had not originally packed it, but when I saw his toys I asked about it.  They introduced me to a brand new toy they had gotten him and said just let him smell it and he will calm down.  Well, I certainly did not want to appear pushy to these gracious women, but something told me, and I asked, "were is his special occasion ball?"  They said, "we left it with another dog, do you want us to go get it?"  At first I politely said, "no, that's fine.", but something told me.  I said, "you know what, maybe you should get the ball, I am a little worried about the drive home."  Well, whatever that was that kept telling me, I will forever owe them a fist full of gratitude.  The drive was only about thirty minutes long, but we didn't make it out of the parking lot.  I heard the most horrible racket, as if try to tear the travel cage apart, while screaming at the top of his lungs.  I pulled into another parking spot and tossed the "special occasion ball" in the cage.  I never heard another sound, except for the constant slurping of him chewing on a beautiful thing earlier referred to as his "special occasion ball".  I thought, this is now his car riding ball.

When I arrived home, I put all of my other dogs into separate rooms.  The family room and the kitchen were vacant.  Not a sight I had seen very many times.  I walked him in quite easily, but he balked as soon as I got him through the front door.  He began to spin and yowl.  I would touch him or if it got too out of control, I would pick him up.  He would stop.  So far, I thought, those drives to Lockhart for training were paying off.  I had this thing under control.  What I didn't know at that moment and it was just as well that I did not know.  For had I known what the next three days would be like, I would have taken that howling dog, and his "special occasion ball", right back to Lockhart.  The ladies at Paws in Prison would have had their cell mate back by dinner time.  We get information as we need it, and at that time  I did not need that information.

When I introduced my dogs, they were smelling and Drake was dodging.  He paid no attention to them, except for an occassional snarl.  He would just walk  away and spin out howling.  I didn't get home from Lockhart until almost 3:00 PM. They had said he would go to bed at 8:00 PM, like clock work.  So for the next five hours we replayed the original entrance drama.  He did sort began to wind down as the hours passed.  Much to my surprise, I put him in his little crate at 8:00PM and snoring. 

As soon as he was asleep, I fired up my laptop for researching.  I just knew this could not be right.  What had happened to the calm, sweet, smart puppy that I had told the girls should be named Einstein?  I thought I was doing everything like they had shown me.  What had gone so terribly wrong.  As the night turned into morning, I read the very limited information about blind or deaf dogs.  I saw that nothing really applied to Drake, because all of the solutions only fitted dogs with only one impairment.  Drake had the two obvious ones, plus a whole lot of emotional issues that I would have to research.  I had listened to every word the girls had told me about Drake.  However, as is most often the case, we hear what we want to hear, not what they are saying.  I was in deep and really scared.

 

So he's in the house.........

September 13, 2012
After a few hours sleep, I felt hopeful again.  Yesterday had not been so bad, I told myself.  The day started off a little calmer.  I talked to Machelle at Paws, fibbed a little about how bad it was.  Tried to believe my own lies and took Drake out the front door and for his first walk.  He was great on leash and was very happy while walking.  I took him out to the back yard, he smelled the donkey.  Stopped, kind of barked, cute.  He walked a little bit farther around the yard, smelled the pig, barked a little again, still cute.  He loved walking around out there.  He was ignoring the dogs, they would all take a quick smell and run.  They seemed to know something was different, and was a little cautious.  We walked for awhile and then he smelled the chickens.  Spinning, pawing at the ground, barking.  I had to literally drag him away from their pen.  They spent most of the day free ranging the yard for bugs, but was still in their night pen.  He for sure was going to kill my chickens, blind dog or not.  He was.

Okay, I thought, so far, so good.  The first couple of hours had not been that bad.  What, just 9:00 AM.  Only 11 more hours to go.  For the sake of argument, lets say the second day was a little bit better than the first.  Not by much however.  He mapped my bedroom and bath a lot more calmly than the downstairs.  When I say more calmly, I mean he would go ten minutes without becoming upset.  I began to breakdown.  I should not have spent so much time on the computer the night before, I was tired.  I no longer felt like he was getting any better.  I was disturbing my entire family of canines, I had no time left for any of my other pets.  Kind of in a panic, looking for away out, but not knowing what to say.  Machelle from Paws had called everyday and I tried to keep my spirits up when I talked to her.  She had put so much into this dog.  I felt that I was inadequate, and was going to have him relapse after all their work.  I couldn't sleep that night, what was I thinking to even attempt such an endeavor.  How did two decades of working with shelters and fostering dogs in anyway prepare me for such a challenge.  Who was I? Just an ordinary person.  So I watched The Dog Whisperer, and Animal Planet, I was not a dog trainer.

So he's in the bed.........

September 14, 2012
Machelle called early on this morning.  She said that she had heard it in my voice the day before.  I admitted more to her that day than I had ever dared before.  Her call was uplifting and I needed that.  However, nothing had changed.  Again, I would feel like he was improving, a little.  Then i would slap myself back into reality about what was really going on.  I had begun to let him sleep in my bed after the first night.  Cristi and Shelly from Paws had suggested before I brought him home.  They felt it would help with the bonding.  This day I kept him in my room and bath area only.  I felt he needed a smaller area to focus on, instead of all the areas that he would live in.  Took him out the front door for his daily walks and into the back yard through the gate.  Kept him completely out of the other areas of the house.  As the sun sat, I felt fairly comfortable that he would sleep all night, so I took a sleeping pill.  I needed rest.  I did not know how long I could continue to just stay close, and correct him every few minutes.  I am guessing due to his long slumber a night, he really was not much of a napper.  That would make the day go on forever.  I could not wait for 8:00 PM to come.  Night, night world.  I will think about Drake tomorrow.

Let's go back:

I didn't just go to the prison and walk out with Drake.  The Paws in Prison group (trainers) and Diamond Dachshund Rescue of Texas (owners), both had me fill out an application.  The owners came over to my house, checking for any dangers that I might have inside or outside my house.  I had two spots in my fence they wanted me to secure, and a pond they were concerned about.  After passing my home inspection, Paws in Prison wanted me to take lessons on communicating with him, before I took him home.  They had worked with him for six months, and done a marvelous job.  They had not only calmed the beast, but were able to teach him ten commands and twelve tricks, by touch.  After I met him and the group, I was amazed.  They sit on the floor with this adorable little deaf puppy, with no eyes to speak of, and he performed his routine perfectly, with no hesitation.  I had never seen anything like it.  The communication between him and his trainer was so precise.  I had never taught my sighted dogs, with hearing, half of those exercises, and I had tried.  They were able to teach this little dog, with none of the usual tools we have as humans.  The love and patience that these two girls, women, gave to Drake had turned him into a regular Einstein.

As a young girl reading about Albert Einstein, it was always Einstein the man that fascinated me.  Most people read about him because of his genius, me it was the way he lived his life.  When I was a child I did not understand people that functioned differently. I went to a parochial school and we were all encouraged to be conformist.   So when I would read that he would not wear socks, would never dress properly or he couldn't spell.  I would think, if he is smart enough to figure out the law of relativity, how could he not dress himself, learn to spell and be like everyone that I knew in my small world.  It was not easy to understand as a child.  It was not until I was an adult did I begin to learn, different was not odd, and did not threaten how I lived my life.  Because of the contradictions, and genius that I saw in Albert Einstein, I thought of him immediately that day I met Drake. 

 

After showing me his skills, they began to tell me about the other side of Drake.  As I sat and listened to them tell me about temper tantrums, stomping his front paws and spinning out of control, I was watching him play ball all by himself.  He would shove the ball, with his nose, and then find it by scent, and shove it again.  He happily did that for about thirty minutes while we talked.  How very wonderful that he just was able to live his life, and was so adjusted to the darkness.   However, when he was not able to find the ball, I saw my first fit.  Looking back and comparing what was to come, it was not bad.  That day it startled me in contrast to his genius.   To be able to put his little brain to the test of figuring out these commands and then to see the basic, rawest lost of any kind of reason.  Why, I could only think how could any of us ever understand this dark and silent world that he had been living in. With no love or guidance that he could understand.  I was completely ready for the challenge .  I wanted not only to help him.  I wanted to continue the journey that he had only started at the prison with these loving ladies. They had given me such a head start and I wanted to understand him.  The commands that they had taught him had won him the Canine Good Citizen award.  The Good Citizen award.  This was a dog that six months earlier was banished to a back yard living a lonely life.  Now he was living with humans, understanding commands, potty trained and obviously the dog could learn anything I wanted to teach him.  He was only limited by me and I had a direct line to Machelle and she had a direct line to her whole team.

He goes to prison:

The rescuers that stepped up were located in San Antonio and called Diamond Dachshund Rescue of Texas.  Boy, they got a lot more than they bargained for.  He was a wild child.   He had fits with high pitched barking, raging, spinning endlessly, they were out of their element with him.  In the past, they had placed a couple of deaf/blind dachshunds with a group of trainers that had good results.  The group was the original Paws in Prison, Lockhart, Texas. The program coordinator was a very humble, brave lady named Machelle Gaconnet .  Hepzipah Hoffman-Rogers from Thunderpaws came to Lockhart from Sequin, once a week to train, and help the inmates with any problems they had through the week.  Thunderpaws is completely volunteer.  The inmates had to apply for the honor of working with these dogs, and Machelle. She found a place for this little rebel, that had a cause, and they named him Drake Diamond. The Diamond was in honor of the group of rescuers who had said "yes" to the SPCA.

Machelle was really the one that saved this handsome, but bad little boy.  She was a lady with determination and her only dream was to save the life's of dogs, one at a time.  A dog lover, she sat on her couch one night watching Animal Planet.  I was watching it the same night, anxious to see a new show called "Cell Dogs".  It put the act of saving dogs lives into the hands of criminals.  What?  Yet, we all were sitting on our couches to see this show.  Machelle had worked for a private prison company with a state prison in Lockhart, Texas.  She had been there for almost ten years, working in an administrative position.  This show lit a fire under her, that can only be described as a blazer.   She talked to her boss, who talked to his boss, so on and so on.  Six months later she had six dogs and several inmates assigned to the program.

Where to start?  She contacted and visited an established program in Oklahoma called "Friends for Folks".  It is a great program already established at a state prison in Lexington, Oklahoma.  They allowed her to visit several times.  She states that "Friends for Folks" is the standard that she wants to bring to her program.  Even though she feels there is still so far to go, from my living room couch where I am still sitting, she has come a long way baby.  Since it began in 2007, the program is responsible for getting over two hundred dogs adopted.  They are trained in all basic commands, plus fun tricks.  Many of them received the Canine Good Citizen certificate before they are adopted.  She makes sure they are medically sound, utd on all shots and most importantly neutered/spayed.  She has also developed, with help from her trainer and the inmates, a way to communicate with a deaf/blind dog.  Drake is the third such dog to be trained by this program and I am sure not the last.  Machelle never backs down from any dog, no matter what the obstacles are.

Machelle still gets a salary from the prison, but the program cannot thrive or survive without donations.  Not money, although it can be deposited at her vet for health needs, but the kind of thing we can all give.  Old rugs, crates, new toys, food.  Anything that she can use in her program.  She is always happy for your time too.  If you have an expertise in computers, marketing, grooming or raising money to purchase the kinds of things she needs.  She can probably put you to work.  If you are local you may be able to run a errand for her occasionally.  Pick up a dog from or to vet, from or to groomer, pick up donations when can't be dropped off. 

If you would like more information of the program or what you can do, please contact me.  I am a volunteer for the program and will be happy to give you any information you might want.

My Journey Begins:

The two inmates, Shelly and Cristi, that had been his 24/7 companions and teachers, had written a short history of their time with him from the beginning until the day that I walked out of the prison with him on his little blue leash.   That is all I had to begin this story.

Before it began:

As with most rescued animals, we will never know how this guy spent his first year and a half.  We do know, a rescuer of dachshunds remembered seeing a post in craigslist, and it sounded a lot like the puppy that had been picked up by the SPCA.  That same puppy was now looking for a rescue group that would give him a chance.  The Houston SPCA have an incredible amount of animals picked up yearly.  As we know in this country, last year, over five million dogs were euthanized because the shelters do not have the funds or room to keep them past a certain time.  In the case of a special needs dog, like this puppy, he would run out of time quickly.  If it was not for rescue groups, that operate on a volunteer basis only, that number would be doubled.  There were no rescue groups in Houston that could take another puppy.  So they sent out a state wide alert trying to save this little puppy which could not hear, not did he have eyes.

The original group in Houston had actually done research, based on the information that this looked like a dog that had been listed on CL.  The person that had originated the ad was contacted.  She said that they did not want the dog back.  She had no bond with him, that he was kept in the back yard.  This told me that the dog had been denied the one thing that every living thing needs.  A bond with someone or something.  Why or how they got the dog was never discussed.  The original owner did not want to continue the call.  If he escaped from his prison of a back yard or did they indeed just dump him, we will never know that either.  We do know that he came into a world that did not accept him.   A dog with his looks and his impairments most likely came from the breeding of two dapple dogs. A dapple or a merle is a pattern on an animal which is spotted, but the color is diluted as it goes out to the edge of the pattern.   Because that two dapples are bred, it is called a double dapple.

When you breed two of either of these color patterns together, you risk these kinds of impairments.  The Australian Shepherd, a brilliant dog, has created the name Lethal Whites to describe the off spring from a double merle breeding that is either deaf or blind or both.  I am not sure what all of the breeds are that are affected by this, but Great Danes,  Shelties, Red/Blue Heelers and many other breeds are commonly found in today's shelters and rescues.  The Dalmatian have been showing up with these impairments for years.  When you try to get a white boxer by breeding two white dogs, problem.  Pitbulls and several other breeds have the same problem.   Some of these are just accidents from ignorance.  Someone have two dapples and they breed them not knowing the risk.  Some, probably most, are simply trying to get a more beautiful or colorful dog.  These are breeders that the risk can be a bigger fee for  the offspring that turned out as planned and they simply dispose of the puppies that can't sell.  Smaller litter, less trouble, more money for the puppies they do sell.  Disposing of the puppies is the cost of doing business.  Just a dirty little secret that is coming into daylight more and more now.

 

Drake and thousands of other dogs like him are now finding their way into rescues and homes across America.  I tried to research the training and get information about these dogs, but found very little online.  I did find a few things, they weren't practical or there wasn't enough information to really let me know what to do with a puppy.  Who would foster such a dog?  How would you communicate with it?  Could he live in a house or was that why the original owner kept Drake in the back yard.  I had owned dogs, or they owned me, for years.  I had also been a dog sitter in your home for elderly or special needs dogs since the early 90's. I began fostering dogs during the same time period, all breeds and types of dogs.  I had fostered several deaf dogs, that is what started me on this journey.  I found deaf dogs so easy to train and to bond with.  They kept you in sight all of the time.  Just waiting for you to communicate with them.  I had learned some sign language and used it as a basic tool.  I had owned dogs, and dog sat for dogs, that had gone blind/deaf during their declining years.  I knew some adjusted easier than others, but they all adjusted and seemingly lived happy lives in that state. A dog that had never lived a normal life with sight/hearing or had a trusted companion, is very different.  That curiosity led me to look in Petfinders for dogs with special needs.  That is where I first saw Drake and found out there was a local program that used inmates to train dogs.  I wanted to support such a program, so I made the contacts.