Life is not like it was before Jan.
22, 2018.
The dogs aren’t deciding when they’ll
sleep on the bed, or if they’ll just stay in the living room. They’re not
falling asleep on the couch a foot or two apart, occasionally one’s head up
against the other’s butt or back.
They’re not doing their own things in
the backyard all afternoon, one chilling on the porch and the other relaxing
but keeping an eye out for them there varmints: squirrels and birds, or a
rabbit in another yard.
Just like that, two brothers are fighting
Just like that, two brothers are fighting
Dogs and Roomie a month after The Altercation:
They’re not sitting still, proper posture and serious faces, in the dining room watching my every move upon crossing the threshold of the kitchen, because apparently I must depart every kitchen visit with something for them other than loving words.
It’s been nearly 11 weeks – and overall,
about $1,200 – since Vander and Coop went at it (and that’s all I’ll say about
that here).
The last offering here described the
first steps toward reintegration, and that one big step back when Coop jumped a
blockade with company and a lot of energy in the room and Vander overreacted and went after him,
sending three humans into a flurry of refereeing.
That was followed by a test walk to
gauge body language with three of us, which kinda had the best intentions but
had, it felt to this human, some stressful energy the dogs felt.
Thus, there was talk that maybe there
was a bigger trigger than we thought, less forgiveness, and that perhaps they’d
not be able to be in the same room together. And I had to consider that, and
how fair all that would be to all three of us. Keeping them apart was already
exhausting, and there was the issue of times when I’d need somebody to fill in
and let the dogs out and/or feed them because I might be gone for too long.
Before, that was easy. Now, it took detailed instructions and timing, a hassle
for people doing you favor.
But I wasn’t really buying the
possibility that they couldn’t co-exist again. Maybe not 100 percent like
before, maybe we wouldn’t all be snoozed out together at night. Maybe I’d have
to keep an eye on them pretty much all the time. Maybe as time went on, I could
be in another room for a bit while they were chilling.
A new part of the process came with me
putting them on tie-outs in the back yard. At full extension, they’d still be
15 or so feet apart. Then I changed it, and they were closer. I’d put one out
first, then bring the other out on a leash and take him close to the other, and
watch the interaction. At first, Vander was still a little eager, wanting to
hump but not in an aggressive way, and Coop was a little shaky at first. But each
time either happened, I yanked at any first sign, and leashed them up.
After a few times, both chilled out,
and the little “hey, say hi to yo brother” intro became a non-event. Coop’s
tail would wag, and Vander might sniff, and there was the occasional kiss, and
we’d move on. Coop wanted a hug, Vander was nonchalant.
Along the way, there were times when I
failed to latch a gate, or forgot the logistics of the separations, and
suddenly, there are two dogs roaming free and looking at me. The first time or
two, yup, I yelped a little quick and eased one out of the room, although there
was no stress coming from either one. One time, the three of us sat on the bed
together, me in the middle, for about a minute.
Steps forward, every time. And I was
in no hurry to push it.
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| We're all in our places with sunshiny faces. ... Now give us somethin. |
Then it progressed to the three of us
in the living room: Vander on a chair with nice comfy fleece blankets, me in a
chair, and Coop on the couch with nice comfy fleece blankets. There was talking
and easing and negotiations. A simple routine: get one in place calmly, then
get the other in place calmly, and I’d sit down with the laptop and remote.
Not a peep from Vander, no
skittishness from Coop. By about the third time, there was stereo dog snoring
in the living room, and great exclamations of joy inside the Roomie. I sensed a
level of relaxation at the progress.
Then there’d be another “oops, I
failed to completely secure the premises” situation and there they’d be, just
like BD – Before Disagreement. A stressful-to-me 10 or 20 seconds of
interaction with no action, just normal.
The big step was coming. I was in my
office and got up to see another breach, and I heard rustling outside. There
they were, in the back yard, doing their version of the Mannequin, and playing
– they’d freeze, one would flinch, Coop would dart away, and Vander would
grumble and chase him for a few steps, and Coop would buzz him, and Vander
would halfheartedly jump, and they’d continue on their way. Peas and carrots.
I wish I’d have waited a few seconds
and watched, but I called for Coop, and he came in, and then Vander came to the
porch, both with a “maaan, we wuz just playin” face and tails waggin.
And bygollydammit, my tail was waggin,
too.
Next step: less separation, more
integration, based on moods and signs.
Success. Still moments of separation,
but less. Then another step: both outside unleashed.
A dream. It was completely BD activity
and silliness, Vander protecting his football and Coop sprinting, both taunting
each other a bit with proper tail actions. And then going their own way. Tails
– all three – wagging properly about the whole time.
No overeagerness from Vander, no fear
from Coop, no verbal stress from Roomie.
Each time I’d get a vibe from Vander,
I’d call him sternly and say stop, and holy crap, he did.
I keep a squeaky nearby on the porch
and in the living room, and a small air horn or something is on the shopping
list. The squeaky worked a couple days ago when Coop was outside addressing something,
and Vander whimpered to co-investigate, so I let him out. They both checked
things out, and Vander was a hair eager while they were at the fence, and kinda
barked at Coop, who didn’t move. I squeaked and called them, and it was over.
Another big step, because I was 30
feet away.
On this cloudy Saturday, inside and
out, chilled and normal and fairly indifferent. There is joy in Loughville.
Lesson 1: always keep the squeaky and
a squirt gun nearby when they’re free, while always talking like a Barry White
seduction tape;
Lesson 2: always know where Vander’s
football is, because it can be misinterpreted that he’s moving to Coop when
Coop just happens to be near the ball in the crate, and he’s protective of it,
so his priorities can change quickly, for the better.
Lesson 3: heeeeeave out the ‘good boy”
and stuff after every good interaction, and stay balanced with affection when
both can see it, although Vander gets a little more to keep him chilled, which
he is anyway.
Something may get forgotten along the
way, but there is no overlooking.
I know we’ll never get back to 100
percent or even 90 percent of LBD – Life Before Disagreement. But we’re at a
spot now that’s closer to that than to lifetime separation, and lemme tell ya,
I’ll take that all day.
And I can hang at this level for a bit,
have no interest in pushing it. We’re here, and it’s good, and a notable step
back is just not worth any hurrying. As long as it takes to keep going forward
is fine, because today is a whole lot better than a month ago.
Just want to keep all three tails
waggin.’
*Sigh*
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