The Doggie Drama Continues

This past couple of weeks saw discussions in the Frump household about giving away D.O.G. , our not so beloved puppy.

They were family council type meetings where the problems were all laid out, and we each expressed our opinions as to what should be done about them.

Probably because Judah was tired of getting knocked down by D.O.G. every time he went out to play, Jericho was the only one who had any qualms about giving him away. Naturally, of the four of us, he's the only one to have grown attached to him having been his primary caretaker these few months. Even then, not all that much...not like with our other dog Raisin.

For most of the time we've had him, D.O.G. has been a very destructive, naughty puppy, chewing up everything in sight, ripping clothing with his razor sharp teeth and forever digging out of our yard.

Normally by now, our dogs have already learned what is acceptable and what is definitely off-limits behavior wise, and we've tried to teach him, believe me. He just won't learn.

This dog isn't very quick on the draw.

And from what the owners of two of his litter mates have told us, their dogs are the same way. Destructive bullies.

Up to now, I haven't felt one ounce of endearment towards that dog, and that is really saying something, because I'm an animal person and can grow to appreciate nearly any of God's creatures given time. (Well, except ferrets. I'm not a fan of fast moving rodents in the least.)

I look at D.O.G. and just see "Duuuuuhhhh". Not a single glimmer of good old horse sense (of the dog variety) in his eyes.

The worst part, however, is that D.O.G's presence in our household has caused our other dog Raisin to show some signs of distress.

Raisin has (since D.O.G's last growth spurt) moped around with a hangdog expression. This kind of cowed-down, tail-between-her-legs resignation towards this new puppy which invaded her life and grew from small and managable to big and ungainly in a very short time.

Raisin has not been her usual self, when before D.O.G. she'd had a chipper and easy-going disposition.

D.O.G. has become a terror. A pushy alpha male that would pick on her all his waking hours.

The bigger he got, the faster she was forced to eat her food or risk having him wolf it down the second he was done with his own.

It was pitiful. Poor Raisin couldn't even rest in peace night or day, because that puppy expected her to play, and when she didn't want to, he'd instigate fights. We'd hear them at night, and look out to see Raisin getting evicted from her warm bed and him marching in to sleep on the nice warmed-up dog pillow inside as though it was owed to him.

It seemed that she just didn't have the strength left in her to fight him anymore. He'd worn her down, and because he was a bully from the start was getting the best of her.

Then, one morning after I'd spent a considerable amount of time out back filling up the holes D.O.G. had dug along the side fence, I saw snatches of fur missing from Raisin's neck. Scabby patches. Upon further inspection, it appeared she had other places that had been previously nipped at but were in varying stages of fur growing back in.

I felt horrible. I hadn't realized it had come to this.

Then, D.O.G. made a fatal mistake. While I was heading for the back door, I witnessed him pulling the wrinkled up Shar-Pei skin around her neck out from her body...stretching it out like panty hose.

This wasn't mere puppy antics...he was just being plain old mean to her for sport.

I'd had it. This was not fair to Raisin and I most certainly didn't want him turning on Judah in this manner.

There was no other way about it, we simply needed to find him another home.

As it happened, in January one of our niece's lost her beloved dog Snickers to cancer. Jeff had to help her take her dog in to have it put down. Just the telling of it all to us later was a real tear-jerker, a sad and somber occasion.

It had been a few weeks, and our niece seemed to really miss having two dogs to look after and greet her when she got home from work, so we asked if she'd consider taking Stupid D.O.G.

We let her know we didn't want her to feel obligated in any way, and had even warned her ahead of time about all his less-than-desirable tendencies. We only wanted her to consider it if she truly wanted another dog.

To our great surprise, she said she'd give it a whirl, on the condition that D.O.G. got along well with her other dog.

So one evening a couple of weeks ago, we took him over to her house to give it a test run.

Her dog immediately laid down the law, standing firm as the leader of that pack, and D.O.G. got a big dose of his own medicine.

He actually whimpered and cowered in the presence of her dog (a male who looks like he's got some Corgi in him, and is shorter in stature than D.O.G.). We all found it rather amusing, this canine justice being meted out.

When D.O.G. realized he was out of his league and couldn't bully her dog like he had Raisin, he did the only other thing he knew to do and immediately began snuffling around the yard picking up every stray piece of dog jerky and Milk Bone dog biscuit on the acre. Acting as though he's never gotten a square meal in his life.

So the deal was, he'd stay one night, and if the dogs seemed compatible, she'd keep him.

That afternoon, we went home and Raisin seemed to have a whole new lease on life. Her chipper disposition was back and she ate a leisurely and stress-free meal, stretching out for a long and worry-free nap in the sunshine.

Her good (non-competitive) behavior was back, too, and she wasn't clamoring at the door like she did when D.O.G. was there. She seemed both relaxed and delighted with the new arrangement.

A call to our niece's house told us that the dogs seemed to be doing okay for having just met.

The next morning bright and early, however, D.O.G. was delivered to our door.

Turns out he'd scarfed down everything in sight inside our nieces house, including all the food she'd put out for her dog.

And then he whimpered all night long for us, apparently homesick (though I suspect it was digestive troubles, his greed having caught up to him).

Long story short, it doesn't appear that it's a match.

To make things easier on Raisin, we opted to keep D.O.G. in the front yard.

The yard we'd not wanted to keep him in before due to his propensity for digging (because if he digs out the front fence there is no second line of defense...he's gone). Heartless as it sounds, this time that wasn't a concern for us.

He seemed fine with the arrangement, greeting Raisin at the fence between the front and back yards, and romping around the front yard on his own.

Raisin looked a bit put-out upon seeing her nemesis was back, but still seemed chipper when we went out back with her. It seemed she could deal with things, so long as she had a whole yard to herself.

Then, on the morning of Valentine's Day, I was the first one up, padded out to the kitchen to get breakfast going...and found this:



What in the world?! How did D.O.G. (on the left) get into the back yard with Raisin?!

I promptly marched out front, went around to the side gate and found this:



This is the hole he dug from our front into the neighbor's front yard.

You can't tell from the pictures, but it was deep enough and wide enough for a much bigger dog than D.O.G. to get through, which tells me he must've spent half the night digging.

Apparently, upon entering their front yard well-after dark, he found he couldn't dig under into their back yard (thanks to concrete reinforced cross-fencing which he'd also encountered in our yard) and so he went around the opposite side of their house and dug under there, circling through their backyard and then digging back under into ours.

Yes, he's apparently become familiar enough with their back yard due to his previous excursions to know how to get back into ours.

Now I've heard of dogs digging out, but never have I heard of a dog digging it's way back in!

Yes, apparently D.O.G. missed Raisin that much. Or maybe it was her warm bed.

But let me tell you, she was none-too-happy to see him.

The funny thing was, D.O.G. seemed rather pentinent, as though he knew he was skating on thin ice with us and had better watch his step.

And that was when something really strange happened.

The tiniest little spark of endearment towards that dumb dog formed and was fanned into a very faint flicker. Of the kind that sputters a bit in the breeze, and though it disappears from time to time is still there, barely flickering.

Somehow, when I saw all the trouble the stupid cur went to in order to be a part of this family again...well, I just couldn't help but to take pity on him.

Even if I do resent that it means we'll have dig a trench and install chicken-wire along the entire front fence where he keeps digging under.

And that we'll have to add an extra step of tying him up just to get our cars out of the driveway lest he lope off down the street and get himself run over.

And get him into obedience school (if they'll even take him).

Something about that crazy mutt reminds me of some other dog story out there...

Oh, yes...I remember now:



I think they're related.

The neighbors big dogs (which I might add we've only ever seen in their back yard)...greeted their very puzzled owners the following morning from their front yard.

I'm quite sure the neighbors wondered what on earth had possessed their old dogs to suddenly decide to dig under into their front yard when they'd always seemed perfectly content out back.

After all the trouble D.O.G. has caused already, digging into their yard and cavorting about with their dogs (and eating their food and doing who-knows-what-else), I didn't have the guts heart to tell them how it happened.

I did notice in passing that they'd reinforced the cross fencing on the other side of their house so that no dog will ever dig out (or, as was the case in this story, in) again.

**update**

This was to post the day after Valentine's day, but alas, our niece decided to give it another go on her day off.

And though D.O.G. whimpered and whined for Raisin again that first night, it appears they do get along well enough that she's decided to keep him. (Thank God, because I didn't have the heart to take him to the humane society.)

Which also means that Jericho can still visit him from time to time.

Providing, that is, that D.O.G. doesn't pull one of those Incredible Journey type of stunts, find his way back to our house and dig his way back into the yard again.

Because, frankly, I wouldn't put it past him.

And that would mean he'd have to stay for good. Lord have mercy.