For the Love of a Dog - Part 2

               Part 2 -

                I truly wasn't sure how to help my new little dog overcome his fear. I didn't have the resources, and we didn't have a computer so I couldn't Google, "How to socialize a dog", or "how to help a scared puppy" (I wouldn't have known how to use a computer anyway!). I had plenty fears of my own that I wasn't dealing with, but somehow wanting to help this little pup made me feel better. It was like I had a purpose again.  I decided to call my sister Linda for the some advice. Then off to the store I went to make my purchases: a cute little collar, a leash, puppy food, some toys and a crate. 

                Linda had told me how much easier it was to house train a dog using a crate and with Max being so fearful perhaps he would find it a place of safety. I could only hope.

                Maxwell ran under the kitchen table when I came in the door, and Rick was standing there complaining that he had just cleaned up the "mess" Maxwell made on the kitchen floor.

                "Did you let him out?" I asked. Of course there was no reply, just a look that spoke volumes.

                I moved a few things around in our bedroom to make room for the crate and found some old towels and a small throw blanket to put in the crate. Then sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor I tried coxing Max to come and play with one of the new toys I had purchased. It was a cute little squeak toy.

Tela loved hers. She had a favorite one (actually the only squeak toy she'd play with), it was a yellow porcupine. Whenever we asked her where her "baby" was, off she'd go looking for this yellow porcupine. She was a smart dog, a fast learner. If we told her to get her bone, she'd go locate her green nylon bone. Just like when we asked about her "baby"; she knew the difference. If we told her to go to bed, up the stairs she'd go to my son Jonathan's room (although reluctantly at times). She had never caused any problems. The only minor problem was that she would get upset when we'd leave her home by herself for too long, then she would get into the kitchen garbage and spread it around the kitchen and living room floor. Never chewing it up, just picking out the items in the trash and placing it all over! She knew this was wrong because she'd hide upstairs and peek around the staircase to see if we were mad at her when we'd get back; if we said something about the mess, then back up she'd go. If we didn't, then down she come all excited to see us. And then there was the issue with Hershey Kisses! She loved them, and if we'd forget to put the candy bowl up, she would unwrap and eat them leaving the evidence (the foil wrappers) on the floor. This was the only food item she would steal. Cookies, other types of candy, could be left out, in fact we could leave a plate of food on the coffee table and she would not touch it. But oh those wonderful chocolate kisses! Maybe it was a female thing?

So there I sat on the kitchen floor trying to use the softest, sweetest voice I could, "Maxwell, look what Mommy bought you, come and play."

He was a curious little dog, I could tell he wanted to come over and see what I had. Slowly he inched his way over… just a little further each time I beckoned for him to get the toy…    but then the earth shook and the sky fell! Well not really, but to him it seemed like it. I squeaked the toy! He tore out of there as fast as those little legs could carry him! He didn't care what or who was in his way, he ran into the wall, sliding into and under Tela, unfortunately he scurried over Rick's bare feet digging his little nails into the skin. He made such a ruckus (not to mention my husband too!) everyone came running to see what was going on. By this point my daughter's poor cat was beside himself and was now hiding in the basement.

I had no idea where Max went; he had found a hiding place. Meanwhile my two boys, Bruce and Jonathan were laughing their heads off. Rick not so much, he was tending to his now bleeding feet and he had that same look that spoke volumes.  Asking my boys to help me locate this poor defenseless puppy, I shot a look back at my husband that must of likewise spoke volumes because he also aided in the search.

I really can't remember who found him, but there he was curled up in the tiniest little ball fast asleep… in his crate!  So I promptly but quietly closed the door of the crate, giving time for everyone to settle down.

That was our first afternoon with Maxwell. Rick never said but I've always wondered if he had second thoughts about bring him home.

We had administered his medicine for the worms to him and feed him, and yes, I threw away that squeak toy! So outside we went watching him closely in order to praise him for doing such a "good job". 

It wasn't long before we were all standing around saying, "What a good boy, such a big boy!"

That is until we saw the "job" he made! You see none of us realized just how appalling it was going to be. Yes, the de-worming medicine was working! Need I explain more? There we were… Bruce giving a detailed description on how gross it was, Jonathan saying how "cool" it was, and Rick ready to puke, while I got a bag and an old spade and cleaned it up. What's wrong with this picture?

I haven't said before but Jonathan had just finished his first year at high school and would be starting the 10^th grade in the fall. Bruce had moved back home from my parents' house after finishing up some schooling. So with three "men" in the house you'd think I wouldn't have been the one to pick it up.

That night as we got ready for bed, Maxwell had (again) gone into his crate and was sleeping. That was until around 2:00 in the morning when I woke up from his whining.  Rick rolled over, gave a moan, and pulled the blankets over his head when I turned on the light.  Opening the door to the crate I picked him up to take him outside. He was so soft, his little round pink belly with black polka-dots.  I held him tight, stroking his head and kissing him. He smelled wonderful; that puppy smell, and that unique scent of hound. The combinations of the two were heavenly. I loved hounds, I always have, their sad eyes and their cheerful, playful personalities. What's not to love?

Upon coming back in it was obvious that he did not want to be put back into his crate.  He wriggled and twisted his little body trying to prevent me from putting him in it.  He was so pathetic looking.  His little body still shaking, his head bowed, and his tail between his legs, those beautiful brown eyes staring at me as if he was pleading for me to help him. I wasn't sure what he wanted, I was so tired. He looked like my heart felt; beaten, humbled, and unsure of what would or could happen next. The thought of him being alone in that crate made my heart ache.  I know what it's like to feel alone, I could be in a crowded room full of people yet I always felt alone…    So I put him in bed with us. Right in-between Rick and I. There he lay looking somewhat content for the first time, curled up with his head on the pillows, the covers pulled up just like a little person. It was then that I started to pray for him. I had never prayed for a dog before, but this little guy needed some intervention.  I fell back asleep praying for the Lord to help this little dog become secure and happy like a puppy should be. That is until the snoring started! Yep, snoring! And it wasn't my husband, it was Maxwell.   

That was the start of what would continue, Maxwell sleeping in our bed every night.