Runaway Ruby

Spoiler Alert: Safe & Sound

If I hadn't waited a few days to make this post, it would have started out a lot differently, with dramatic self-deprecating statements such as "I don't deserve to have a dog" and "I have no business being a dog blogger" but time and reason have calmed me down enough to write about it from the standpoint of (more) lessons learned and the fact that mistakes and accidents happen in life and in dog life. One of the most valuable aspects of the dog blogging realm for me is feeling that I'm not alone, that others have shared an experience and that we can learn from one another. Rebekah from My Rotten Dogs recently posted about Faolan's Great Escape, not long after my own experience with Boca slipping her harness on a hike.

Having the statistics of pet loss on the Fourth on July drilled into my head for the past week, I was not so surprised to grab a runaway dog (on a Flexi-lead, with a collar so loose it came off in my hand when I reached for it) outside of the ball field early Friday morning, but I didn't expect to lose my own dog the very next day. It wasn't the first time Ruby has gotten away from me after a rabbit. Twice she has pulled the leash out of my hand and run off after a single rabbit in my townhome complex, and come back. Dragging the leash makes recovering her a bit easier. This time was different.

We were on our morning sniffabout, which is normally a fairly leisurely stroll around the complex lawn with lots of grazing and rabbit-spotting on the girls' part. I've always been hesitant to lump "rabbits" in to Ruby's reactivity triggers because, well...the list is so long already, and I chalk it up to prey drive rather than fear or anxiety. This year the rabbit population has exploded, and we see probably no less than twenty on any given walk. This morning they were out in full force. Ruby spun and lunged toward one and instead of feeling the leash go taut and snap back when she hit the end, she was gone. I was left holding the leash, snap intact. 

I started calling her immediately, trying to keep the panic out of my voice, and ran after her with Boca at my side attempting to keep Ruby in view as she raced after a seemingly endless succession of rabbits. Just as she would lose one into a shrub, she would see another. Twice I lost sight of her but due to her "hunting screech" - a high-pitched yelp she makes in pursuit - I was able to keep on her tail. At one point I thought I would just try running home to see if she'd follow, and she did start to, but then another damn rabbit would appear. I was finally able to gain on her and grab her harness as she backed out of some flowers. 

The whole episode lasted probably no more than two minutes but it seemed like an eternity. Ruby was thrilled and unaware of the many dangers she faced. Luckily, no other people were out - although her dog reactivity is frustration-based and what she wants most is to meet/jump on/play with other dogs, the feeling isn't always mutual. Luckily, she stayed within the perimeter of the complex - we are not far from several very busy streets. Luckily, I was able to snatch her up - and once I did, I did not let go. I carried her halfway home, then stopped to examine the leash before clipping it and knotting it to her harness. It seemed fine, the snap functional, and I still can't explain what happened, but I will not use that leash again. It was one of my favorites and the first one I bought for her - the lightweight snap was nice because it didn't bang against Ruby's chest on her front-clip harness - but I can't take any chances. 

I spent the rest of the morning near tears, hugging and kissing Ruby, shaking, and chastising myself for all the ways I'd failed as a dog owner. Later I shook it off, knowing it wasn't productive, and started focusing on the things I can change. First: equipment check and re-check, as well as utilizing gear with sturdy hardware, since I know Ruby is a puller and puts things to the test. Second: recall work. I know without a doubt that this is the single most important thing for a dog to know, and Ruby's 25+ tricks are useless when it comes to saving her life. It is also one of the most challenging things to teach to a dog with high prey drive, little focus, and limited access to safely-fenced areas to practice. I don't believe I can ever be more interesting than ten rabbits. One rabbit? Maybe. Third: Since I know the recall will always be a work in progress, I need to concentrate on at least redirecting Ruby's attention and lessening her reaction to the rabbits. I've tried using chasing them as a reward, and it works to some extent in that I can get her to lay down and wait when she spots one, but the chase itself is so exciting that she can't calm down after that. For now I am practicing asking for a sit or down when she alerts to one, and then we walk on. I'm keeping the leash shorter as we're going through the Rabbit Convention Zone, so she can't race to the end.

I love this little dog so much, and for every challenge she presents me with, I love her that much more. I'm charged with keeping her safe, even when that means saving her from her own rocket-speed, rabbit-crazed, terrier-brained self. 

A Bad Day, A Good Day and A Dog Show

 

Is it really Ruby Tuesday again already?  I had a lovely three-day weekend for President's Day filled with many walks and games of tug, outings with friends and family, braving crowds at Colorado's first Trader Joe's, and attending the Colorado Kennel Club dog show.  I also did a lot of thinking about the many honest and wonderful posts about reactive dogs that I have read recently.  I think we can all see now that we are definitely not alone with our challenging dogs, and that it's a never-ending process of learning, management, and taking the bad days with the good.  I had a little of each this weekend...

On Friday my office closed early, so I had a rare weekday opportunity to walk Ruby in the remaining late-afternoon and evening light.  It was not the smartest idea to take her across the busy street at rush hour, but after running the crosswalk gauntlet there are some generally-quiet neighborhoods to walk in with wide, hilly, winding streets.  Luck was not on our side as two motorcycles passed us immediately waiting for the pedestrian light to change. That set the tone for the entire venture, and while I did my best to practice calming ovals, "watch me" and zig-zag walking, Ruby's attention was gone.  We saw a few other people walking, a cyclist, and a barking dog behind a fence.  I felt for the most part like I didn't exist at the other end of the leash.  Even though I know better, it's hard not to take it personally.  I feel safer carrying her across the street since it's so busy, and even though I clip her collar and harness together, I know that if she got away from me in one of her frenzies she'd be in very real danger of being run over.  I'm sure the motorists at the red light wonder why on earth I'm carting my twenty pound dog across the street, probably thinking she's spoiled and I'm an idiot.  Usually I don't care what they think, but after our harrowing walk I was relieved just to be on the other side of the noise-barrier wall, away from judgmental eyes and back in the safety of our townhome complex.  Not wanting to end our outing on that disappointing note, we went up to the second-story concrete balcony of the clubhouse and watched the birds and rabbits below as the sound of the nearby freeway rushed like a concrete river and the sun started to set in pastel tones.  Even at times like that I don't wish for a different dog...I wish for a quieter life.  I grew up in the country and though I love my city and all it has to offer, I do think of how happy Ruby would be somewhere she could run free without all the fears and frustrations that she has to deal with in our crowded suburban setting.  Although I felt much better back home, Ruby was still amped up and distracted, exacerbated by seeing a few dogs out the front window.  I knew she would not be able to focus on the tasks of our current Relaxation Protocol session, so I decided to repeat Day 1.  She got through it and I was really glad I chose to set her up for success.  You do what you can...sometimes stepping back or to the side is not defeat. 

I spent the Sunday at the Rocky Mountain Cluster dog show.  I have gone every year since I found out about it (six or seven years running, I think) and while I have mixed feelings about purebred trends and show politics, I never tire of seeing so many beautiful, happy dogs in one place.  I try to never miss the Norwegian Elkhound judging, just so I can see all those gorgeous silver coats, cinnamon-bun tails and sparkling dark chocolate drop eyes, and toothy elkie smiles.  I got to love on one nice young female and missed my Freya immensely.  I bought a new tug toy for Ruby - a rectangle of faux fur and canvas with some squeakers stitched in on a purple nylon webbing strap.  I watched a flyball demonstration - something I'd never heard of until getting Ruby, when I learned that Border Jacks are deliberately crossed for the sport - and it was both incredible and unexpectedly touching.  The dogs were so excited for their turns - it was just a cacophony of barking as the team members flew over the hurdles, jumped on to the spring-loaded ball box, and raced the ball delightedly back to their handlers.  I actually found myself getting a bit choked up at the joy, energy and intensity of it all.  We also watched the agility trials in the big arena for quite a while.  The competition was dominated by shelties and heelers, but the most entertaining run was a Basenji who, after much encouragement, finally strolled through a few of the weave poles, than stopped when it heard the crowd clapping, seemingly pausing to bask in the attention, then sauntered through the rest of the course in no great hurry.  I was delighted to spot a Laekenois - such a cool-looking curly shepherd and something you don't see every day - but left before it had its turn. 

Once home, Ruby and I played a game of tug with her new toy.  She still seems to prefer what is left of her Walk-e-Woo tug, which is now just an orange nylon strap with a loop at each end, but she enjoyed the squeakers in her dog show souvenir.  It was absolutely gorgeous outside, and while tempting to brave the busy street or the open space, I wanted to ensure that we had a fun and relaxing time so we stayed close to home.  I took her to the lawn and basketball court of the adjacent complex, where they have some pleasant benches to sit on near their community garden.  Ruby dug a hole and snuffled in the dirt next to a tree, and it was so nice to see her being a dog.  Her body language was loose, she had a wide panting grin, and I could tell the sunshine was doing us both good.  Some kids had left two soccer balls out on the lawn, so I began kicking one around for Ruby to chase.  It was tricky to keep up with her on leash, but she absolutely loved the game - I may have to get her a soccer ball of her own! We did see some other dogs and people out in the unseasonably beautiful weather, but were able to keep our distance without issue. We wandered around, smiling all the while, she dug another hole, I took some pictures, then we returned home to relax on the sofa with the last of the afternoon light slanting in.  Ruby has an adorable habit of covering my face with kisses after we've done something fun, and I got a lot of love after our walk.  I felt so happy and content, having just seen all the most talented, decorated dogs in the region, and still thinking mine was the very best one, my heart's blue ribbon.