Boca Rocks a Thundershirt and Ruby Rolls in Her Travel Crate

Ready to rock thunderstorms and silly human holidays.

The Fourth of July was rough for us. I live just five minutes from the light rail station, and its large, empty parking lot is the ideal place for people to set off (illegal) fireworks. When we walk over there, the asphalt is littered with the remnants of things that go bang in the night. This has been going on since about the first of July, and even last night we heard some more pops and crackles. It's getting old. Ruby isn't as bothered by them, and in fact her thunderstorm phobia has been improving as well, but Boca is terrified of fireworks. I'm not sure if she has bad memories of them from her life on the street (I recently watched a video in which a camera is attached to a street dog in Mumbai, and children chase the dog with firecrackers) or just thinks the end of the world is coming, but she has grown increasingly worse and developed some unfortunate associations. Since some of the loudest explosions happened just after we went to bed several nights in a row, even after trying to stay up late watching loud TV, Boca is now afraid to sleep on the bed when the window is open (which is a necessity when you don't have AC on a 90 degree day).

Now that the fireworks should be winding down (except for a local display scheduled for the 25th celebrating the city's anniversary when we plan to skip town), I decided to purchase a Thundershirt for Boca, and I sure wish I had done so sooner. We were able to try it out on Thursday night when I arrived home from dinner with a friend in an impressive lightening storm, complete with sub-woofer thunder. There was a noticeable change in Boca as soon as she was swaddled in her pink polo. Rather than quaking and panting, she simply curled up in the bathroom with the fan running and seemed almost comfortable. She was able to fall asleep next to the bedroom door within minutes of going upstairs to bed. Last night I put it on again after we heard those firecrackers, and she curled up next to me on the sofa instead of hiding in corners. She even seemed to recognize that it helped her, because as soon as she saw me unfold it and say "Do you want your shirt?" she came over to be wrapped up. Ruby has a Thundershirt, too, but the difference it makes for Boca is much more dramatic. I am so glad to have it on hand now.

Ready to roll in calm, quiet style.

Boca wasn't the only one to try out something new this weekend. For a while now I've been looking at travel crates for Ruby. Her reactivity in the car is stressful for everyone, and not exactly safe if she sees a bike, motorcycle or dog before I can steel myself for her shrill and frantic barking. Counter-conditioning while driving isn't an option. Early on, I did transport Ruby in her crate, but she would get carsick and throw up every time. I related this to riding in a crate, but I now think that it was carsickness in general which she has outgrown. With an upcoming trip to the vet during rush hour for her annual wellness check, I decided it was time to implement a more peaceful commute. I ended up choosing this crate because it was inexpensive, I liked the size options and it had good reviews. It's lightweight, a cinch to assemble, and has adorable bone-shaped mesh windows. It has zip doors on the top and the front. I would not consider this crate for daily, unsupervised use, but for car travel I think it's perfect.

After setting it up with a comfy crate mat, I coaxed Ruby in with yellow cheese and set it up in the car. I can't tell you how wonderful it was not to hold my breath whenever I saw something Ruby would react to, or dread hitting a red light at an intersection where cyclists waited at the crosswalk. Ruby was a little nervous in the crate, but nothing like the overstimulated state she is in if we have the misfortune of being passed by a Harley tour or a dog barking in the back of a truck. Talk about a game-changer! I'll be much more apt to take Ruby more places now that the getting there isn't such an ordeal. It was poor planning to make her first trip in her travel den one to the vet, but she did great at her appointment and even did some of her tricks for the vet. Yesterday I improved the association by taking The Ginger Sisters to my barn for a hike on the property, and by the time I snapped the above photo she was loading up happily on her own. Another win for management of the reactive dog!

Have you ever had a dog product change your life?

Five Things I Learned About My Fearful Dog During a Thunderstorm

I was in the middle of grocery shopping after work Wednesday night when I heard the first ominous rumble of thunder. I hurried as much as possible, knowing poor noise-sensitive Ruby was probably frightened at home, and got absolutely soaked running to my car with my cart. As I unlocked the door I didn't see Ruby in her bed and found that she was hiding under the table. She came right over to me, and practically crawled into my arms. The worst of it was over, but I learned some things as the storm passed us by.

The Thundershirt really does work! 

I noticed an almost immediate difference when I swaddled Ruby up in her Kelly green Thundershirt.  She stopped trembling and followed me around while I put the groceries away. I've used it a few times to help Ruby's anxiousness in the car, but never during an actual thunderstorm. The day I adopted Ruby we drove home in a a downpour and deafening claps of thunder. She didn't seem to mind it,  but as I'll talk about in the next point, she was not quite herself at first. Our thunderstorm season in Colorado is generally in the late summer, so yesterday's weather was unexpected. I'm glad to know the Thundershirt helps and we'll be prepared when the next one rolls in.

I completely misread Ruby when I first adopted her. 

I knew this already but the thunderstorm experience only proved to strengthen the realization. Ruby curled up in my lap for close to an hour when I got home, a time she is normally bouncing off the walls bringing me one toy after another and begging for a walk. She didn't whine, but she did press close against me and yawn a lot, a classic sign of stress. What I thought was calm and cuddly when I took her to a sidewalk cafe, farmers market and the Warrior Dash shortly after adopting her was actually intimidated and afraid. I couldn't understand the sudden change when her reactivity began to surface, but now believe she was actually in a defensive, shut-down state those first few weeks. She was so overwhelmed by everything that she couldn't react to any one thing. I have a hard time forgiving myself for this.

There is no such thing as rewarding fear.

As I held Ruby in my lap and spoke softly to her, stroking her ears back against her head to possibly muffle some of the sound, I didn't think for a moment that I was reinforcing her fear. That notion always sounded suspicious to me, and it never stopped me from comforting my dogs when they needed it. The attention in combination with the Thundershirt seemed to relax Ruby, it certainly did not cause her to shake or worry more. As always, Patricia McConnell says it better.

Being afraid is exhausting.

Ruby and I were both ready to go to bed early last night. She finally did eat her dinner and shared some veggies with me while I watched TV, but wasn't up to her usual shenanigans. I could tell that the storm wore her out. Keep this in mind if you have an anxious or fearful dog, and don't ask too much of them after they've had a trying experience. Sometimes those behaviors that happen "out of nowhere" are the trickle-down effect of compounded distress.

Storms pass. 

I could tell that Ruby was starting to feel better as the loudest part of the storm was over, although it continued pouring all through the night, preventing us from taking our evening walk.  She started rolling around on the carpet and so I took her Thundershirt off.  Her tail began wagging again and while she was more subdued than normal I could tell that she was feeling better. Fear can paralyze us in the moment and send us running for cover, but I'll take this opportunity to be dangerously corny, give a nod to one of my favorite movies, The Crow, and say "it can't rain all the time."