Mabel the Loving, Lovable Klutz

Still Here--Again! I Promise!

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 19:16:00 +0000

Although I take my foster mom duties very seriously, I've been an atrocious foster mom blogger lately. I'll spare you the reasons for that.

But I'll have Mabel updates for you again very soon, in the next day or two (really, I mean it this time).

We're Still Here!

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 18:52:00 +0000

This photo was actually taken a month ago (Mabel was more interested in licking my face than posing with me), but you can pretend it's Mabel kissing me goodbye as I prepare to leave for my weeklong trip.

Not a single Mabel update in almost 3 weeks? How awful am I?!

Both of Mabel's foster moms have entered into the World of All Work and Deadlines and Vet Appointments and No Fun in the last few weeks, so work with Mabel and blogging about Mabel has been harder to fit in. But Mabel is still here, happy and silly and clumsy as ever. Her newest joy is chasing tennis balls and trying her hardest to eat them.

We have made baby steps in helping her overcome her fear of other people, but we're not nearly where we should be, again because of the difficulty of getting in as much practice and training and exposure as she needs. We are currently considering putting her--temporarily--on antianxiety medication to help with the process. We absolutely hate the idea of medicating her and have looked at it as a last resort from the beginning, but in doing some thinking and researching the last couple weeks, we realized that this may be what she needs. If medication can help calm her nerves and fears enough that she can start interacting more normally with other people more quickly, it could be worth a shot. And then once she's finally had a chance to learn, while on the antianxiety medication, that people really are OK after all, we can start weaning her off the meds. We're just waiting for a call back from Mabel's vet, who has been on vacation for the last week, so that we can decide if this is a good option and then get her started.

This is probably a good time for her to have some help relaxing anyway. Because I work at home, she's used to having someone around practically all the time right now, and I'm getting ready to leave for a conference for a week, which means that while her other foster mom is at work, Mabel will have to stay in her crate (don't worry--she'll be let out to run around and do her business at lunchtime). Her separation anxiety is much, much better now than it was in the beginning, and she quiets down a few minutes after we leave (she's never been destructive or tried to get out of her crate--she just barks and cries), but she still doesn't like being left, and she's never been left for almost the whole day multiple days in a row.

And to clarify--we're not just going to medicate her and hope that does the trick. Once I'm back from my trip, and especially once we get through August, we're going to rededicate ourselves to working with her as well. We are also trying to get some time with a behaviorist, which we consider far more important than the medication, but we're waiting to hear back from someone on that too.

Because I'll be gone for most of the next week--and not with Mabel--it's unlikely that I'll be able to update this blog again for about a week. But Mabel and I will see you when I return. :)

Hugs and Kisses from Mabel and an Adoption Progress Update

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 20:02:00 +0000

Apologies for the infrequent updates lately. The humans have been really busy.

Once Mabel knows and trusts you, she can't get enough of you. The very first night she was here, she kept trying to crawl on top of me to sleep instead of sleeping in the dog bed next to me, as she was supposed to. At the time, I thought this was just some manifestation of all that she was feeling that dramatic, traumatic night.

But no, this is something she still gladly does today, now that she's in good health and perfectly happy. If one of us lies down on the floor (i.e., where Mabel can get to us; she knows not to get on beds and couches uninvited), she is on top of us within seconds, crawling all over us and licking our face and neck and chest for as long as we'll let her, and then when we make her stop, she finally settles down--sometimes sprawled out across, hanging over our midsection, and sometimes with her face right next to ours or on our chest, her legs over our shoulders.

Enter today's photo. It may look like Brandi's holding her there, but she isn't (there were dozens of other photos of this in which that was more clear, but I was having a hard time getting rid of the flash-induced red eye in those). What you see here is a combination of Brandi cuddling with her and keeping her from running over to me to lick the camera lens.

In other news, well, there isn't much news. We're still working on Mabel's people-fear but not as steadily as she needs; with all the other animals, work, and family, it's been difficult to find the necessary time. With any luck, we can get back on a schedule and develop a plan for that soon. We're also hoping to capture some video soon of Mabel's recent playful yard antics and to share that with you here; it won't be high-quality video, but hopefully we can come up with something.

Mabel still doesn't have any prospective homes, though she did have a wonderful, loving, huge-hearted family from Indiana interested in her--our very first seriously interested potential adopters--before we all realized that the home just wasn't right for Mabel for various reasons. It was a sad realization, both for us and for the sweet family who wanted so much to be able to give Mabel a happy home. But Mabel's permanent family is still out there somewhere, and that kindhearted Indiana family, I know, is going to find the perfect second dog for their household; they have a lot of love to give, and there is no shortage of dogs in need.

We are nearing the end of week 10 now. Please continue to spread the word about Mabel, friends, especially those of you around St. Louis (or with friends around St. Louis). You never know who might want and need a dog--and who might be just perfect for Mabel. :)

Eye Contact--Eye Contact Is Good

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 17:01:00 +0000

Because of scheduling and weather, we haven't been to the park since the beginning of the week, but on a late morning walk, we encountered a group of people outside the neighborhood coffee shop. We stopped near them because Chance had moved into the grass to do her business, and the men and women standing near us proceeded to check out the two dogs and ask us questions about them. This doesn't seem very exciting, I know. But this was the first time that we've been able to stop near strangers and that those strangers have actually been able to talk to us and make eye contact with Mabel without her barking in fear. She tucked her tail for a little bit, but she didn't freak out. We wish progress in this area were coming faster, but hey, at least it's still happening--we can work with that!

P.S. A big thank you to the readers who came across this blog and sent sweet, supportive e-mails this past week about Mabel. Individual replies will come soon (after I meet a deadline in a few days), but in the meantime, thank you, from Mabel and from me. :)

The Young Pit Bull and the Going-on-Geriatric Corgi Lab

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 13:56:00 +0000

Moments such as this are part of why I hope so much that we will be able to still invite Mabel over now and then or visit her, with Chance in tow, once Mabel's permanent family has been found. She had one of her periodic excited "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!" episodes with alpha Chance late yesterday afternoon. After plopping herself directly in front of Chance and proceeding to lick all over Chance's mouth, face, and ears, she then followed Chance to her new location a few feet away, where Chance moved when she tired of the slobbery attention, in order to lie down directly against her.

Clearly, she is a ferocious, dog-aggressive maniac.

Mabel the Playful

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 19:44:00 +0000

Mabel coming when called, after an impressive sit-stay

In the last week, Mabel has been feeling better than ever evidently--she has been so playful! She's been affectionate from the beginning, and she's even been silly and mildly playful from the beginning, but not like she is now. Every day now, when she gets into the yard, all she wants to do is play bow, run with me, and bounce around--and "bounce" really is the perfect word. She looks like a giant oddly shaped rabbit darting around the yard. And apparently, she has some nocturnal tendencies too because no matter how active her day has been, for the last several nights, when we've let her out for that one last chance to relieve herself before bed, she's been just a giant ball of ecstatically happy, noisy (Ah-ROOOH!) energy. Forget end-of-the-day exhaustion; she's at her most energetic! She calms down quickly and easily as soon as I get her inside and to her bed, but the surge of excitement that comes out of her every night is something to behold.

Why We Can't Keep Mabel and Why We Need Your Help

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 14:16:00 +0000

Not one person has inquired seriously about adopting Mabel in eight weeks. Not one. (There's a whole other post on that topic sitting in draft form.) But I have received 3 e-mails from total strangers telling me I should keep her, asking me to keep her, or suggesting that it seems like Mabel already has a home, offering that insight as "just a thought." And I've seen posts on at least one bulletin board in which people have talked about how much they hope I'll keep her. A couple friends have asked about whether we might be permanently adopting her too, and those questions haven't bothered me; they've been asked politely, and when I've explained why we can't, the friends have understood immediately, knowing what our lives were like before Mabel in addition to hearing what our lives are like now. But when strangers write elsewhere about how I should keep her or write to me to suggest I keep her, as if strangers could have any idea what life is like here or have standing to comment on it, I'm bothered.

I want to be clear that the guilt and anguish we feel over not being able to keep Mabel is very real and very painful. Last month, when the first stranger, in response to one of my mailing list messages, sent me the note saying, "maybe she already has a home . . . just a thought," despite my having just explained why we couldn't keep her, this short message bothered me to the point of tears. Today's e-mail from a stranger, telling me that he respected my "decision" not to keep Mabel while simultaneously asking me to reconsider, given how much she loves us and we love her, elicited both tears and anger. Please, please, understand, readers--there is no decision. We just can't. And this is hard enough without strangers telling us what they think we should do.

How could anyone believe that in a whole two months of loving and caring for Mabel, we haven't considered keeping her and wanted to keep her and tried to find a way to keep her? How can someone who has no idea what our day-to-day lives are like here, who has no firsthand knowledge of us or of Mabel or of any of the other animals here, make a judgment about how we're handling this--how could anyone possibly think that the idea of keeping her is something novel and new that needs to be suggested to us, something we haven't already pondered and agonized over? Knowing that we have to let Mabel go is not something that's easy for us. My heart is going to feel like it's being shredded by razors when she leaves.

But at some point, she has to leave for another home, despite how much I don't want her to. I love Mabel, more each day. But folks seem to forget that we ended up fostering her not by choice, but by default. We knew, the moment we found Mabel, that keeping her--even fostering her--was completely unrealistic, perhaps even impossible, given our own current situation and Mabel's likely needs. We desperately tried to find her another place to live. But when it became apparent that all the places she could go were already full, we were faced with a decision: take her in and do our best for as long as possible or take her to a mainstream shelter and her almost certain death. We didn't have a choice. We couldn't let this sweet dog languish or die in a shelter.

In the first couple weeks, we were overwhelmed in more ways than I can count, but a large part of the difficulty of those first weeks was our constant--constant--guilt over how the other animals in this house were suffering or not having all their needs fully met because of our decision to foster Mabel. Before Mabel, there were already 3 dogs and 2 cats in this essentially one-bedroom house (with a mostly finished basement). Day-to-day life was already enough to sometimes leave me barely hanging on to sanity. Beyond much else going on in life, our dogs and cats have their own issues, and caring for all of them every day, all day and all night, while also trying to work from home full-time and also meet gobs of other responsibilities and deal with gobs of other time- and energy-consuming life issues, was almost more than I could handle before Mabel.

And in those first couple weeks, we decided this: yes, we were overwhelmed, and yes, we were guilt-stricken over what our animals were going through while Mabel was here and in need of so much attention, but this wasn't permanent, and after Mabel recovered and had a home (which I naively thought would take only a few weeks to a month), we would make it up to them; we didn't want them to be sad or for their routines and lives to be so disrupted, but Mabel's entire life and future were at stake, and we couldn't deny her the chance for a full and happy life, for another decade of living, just because the other animals' lives would be inconvenienced or more stressful than usual for a month.

Since Mabel's arrival, the animals in this house have had to be broken up into 3 pairs (it used to be just 2 sets--dogs and cats) that are kept completely separate at all times during the day. I spend half my day just finding ways to move the different sets to different areas of the house or outside without their paths ever intersecting or any animal (cat or dog) ever being in danger from another. I am constantly aware of and stressed about which animals are not getting enough time and attention. I am constantly worried that I'm going to screw up. I have been constantly behind in work since Mabel got here, not able to work at all the first week or two she was here (and when freelancers don't work, freelancers don't have income). People who can't imagine that daily life with these 6 animals could really be that hard or that stressful don't know these 6 animals or this house--and wouldn't last a day here.

When Brandi is home in the evenings, we do sometimes have all 4 dogs in the same (small) room, but there is never a fully relaxed moment during these interludes. Mabel is always on a leash, but the room is too small, and there are too many things and beings in it. And there are too many distractions outside that regularly send the other dogs barking and running to the windows, and there is always a greyhound on the other side of the room who both dislikes and now fears Mabel.

And here we have reached one of the primary reasons that Mabel can't stay here permanently. Neither Mabel nor Ella the greyhound is fully comfortable or safe here right now, at least or especially when they're in the same space. Ella has disliked Mabel from the start, and she has shown it. Since a bad first meeting, Mabel has tried to be friendly with Ella, and Ella has alternated between ignoring her and snarling at her. A couple weeks ago, when I accidentally let them both into the yard at the same time, Ella came charging at Mabel full-greyhound-speed from across the yard as soon as Mabel jumped off the bottom of the deck steps into the yard. We'll never know if Ella's initial intent might have been playful, but the situation ended with a traumatized Ella at the vet's office getting stitches down her side and with Mabel upset and scared and curled up at my feet, refusing to even eat her dinner. Mabel likes Ella. Mabel likes and is liked by Sara the black lab. Mabel loves and is loved by Chance. But Mabel and Ella cannot live together. They are not safe together.

Mabel, for many, many reasons, will be better off in the long run in a home that is better suited for her, in a home where there are fewer animals and where she can get more one-on-one attention and where there is not tension or danger for her.

There are other reasons we can't keep Mabel, reasons that I won't go into in a public post, but please trust that they are real, valid reasons.

Please understand too that some real sacrifices, with long-term consequences in some cases, have been made and will continue to be made during this time in which we're caring for Mabel. Please know that we are doing all that we possibly can for her--more than we really can for her, as other parts of our lives and ourselves, our families, our animals, our relationships, and our work pay the price. Personally, the addition of Mabel to our home this summer has prevented me from doing something that I desperately needed to do, something that was vitally important to me, something that I may very well be missing my last chance to do--because I chose to keep caring for Mabel. Even as I write this, I may be permanently losing pieces of my family's history and pieces of myself because I am not where I intended to be this summer, because I am here with Mabel instead, because when it became clear that she was not going to be adopted as soon as we'd hoped, we did not just give up on her. I do not for one moment regret taking Mabel off the streets that night--I love her with all my heart, and I would do it again without hesitation--but the decision has not been without consequences.

So please, if you have a home for Mabel or you know someone who does, don't think that just because we love her so much, we should or can or will keep her. I want to be her buddy for the rest of her life. I want to help her adoptive family in any ways I can as they get to know her and make further progress with her. I want to dogsit her when they go out of town. I want to visit her or invite her over to see Chance. And I want to keep her; I just can't. Her departure is going to be more difficult and painful for us than I can put into words, and the thought of how it's going to confuse and upset her breaks my heart even more, but there truly is no other option.

We love Mabel tremendously. But in this case, much as we wish it were, love is just not enough.

Francis Park, Round 2

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 13:51:00 +0000

In the car, leaving the park

Last night, on our second trip to Francis Park, Mabel was just perfect. Her fear of humans seems to be turning into a fascination with them. I wondered if, despite her progress Saturday night, she might at least start this venture nervous again, huddling in close to my legs or trying to move to the other side of my body, away from people when they passed, like she did at the start of her first trip to the park. She didn't. From the beginning of the walk, instead of turning away from passersby, she turned toward them, turning her head all the way around to watch them pass (she has to turn her head because as we walk down the right side of the sidewalk, people pass on her left, on her blind side). She slowed down ever so slightly a few times, but her tail did not tuck--it stayed up and several times even wagged. A couple times when people passed us from behind, she behaved as if she wanted to catch up with them, tail wagging away. She tried to sniff at least one person's shoes. Because we arrived at the park later than planned, and dark was catching up with us, our walk was much shorter than the previous one, but it was also hot and humid, so the half-hour stroll was just about right. We sat on a bench again at the end, and Mabel watched curiously but calmly as walkers, joggers, cyclists, and dog-walkers passed. Near the end, out of the blue, she barked at one jogger who passed (after having been completely unbothered by a dozen others), and we're not sure why she did it--it's possible that something else in that moment (e.g., a noise, a flash of car headlights) startled her or that Mabel wasn't paying attention, and because the woman came from her left, Mabel didn't notice the jogger until she was right in front of her. But whatever the reason, it was one bark from a sitting position, and then she was fine.

We don't think she's at the point yet where a stranger could approach her directly and interact with her without initially scaring her, but that day may not be far off! Watching this change in her--and seeing how quickly it's happening--is just astonishing.

Mabel Tackles Francis Park--and Succeeds!

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 14:40:00 +0000

Don't worry--we didn't let Mabel off-leash in the park. This was taken at home. Park pictures still to come.

Really, she just impresses the hell out of of me sometimes, this dog. Saturday evening, armed with a water bottle, a water bowl, treats, and Chance, who we're hoping provides Mabel with more comfort in these situations and who can show Mabel through her own interactions with humans that they're OK, we took Mabel to a busy (and beautiful) park--busy was good for Mabel; beautiful was good for the humans.

With lots of cars going by on the street to our left; lots of people walking, running, and riding past us on the sidewalk; and lots of activity (e.g., tennis matches and playing children) going on inside the park, we expected that Mabel might get anxious to the point of not being able to get comfortable and feel safe again early in the walk and that we might need to make this first venture into Francis Park a short one and then proceed to increase our time there on future visits. Instead, halfway through and a couple dozen people into the 1.25-mile walk around the perimeter of the park, Mabel was doing just beautifully. By the time we were halfway through the walk, adults, children, and dogs could walk or jog past her with barely an acknowledgment from Mabel (well, almost--the sight of another dog always elicited a wagging tail, and that's the kind of acknowledgment we want!). Aside from the treat and/or abundant praise Mabel received after every instance of walking unfazed as we passed someone, she looked and acted just like any other dog out for an evening stroll.

Two different scenarios made me especially proud of Mabel. First, in the last fourth of our walk, a woman and small girl were approaching us. The girl stopped to pick at something on the sidewalk, and when she was done, she started to run to catch up with her mother. She wasn't running at Mabel by any means, but I could see that she was going to run close to us as she passed, and I thought for sure that this was going to startle Mabel and lead her to bark. But what did this sweet dog do? She stood there, watched the girl prance by, and wagged her tail. This, my friends, warranted buckets of praise.

At the end of the walk, we sat down on a bench just off the sidewalk, to see how Mabel would do when we just let people pass us, as we sat there stationary. She watched with calm but alert interest for the first couple minutes, but then--and this is key!--she not only sat down but then also proceeded to lie down next to and in front of the bench, and she remained in that position, calm and comfortable, as groups of people walked by just a few feet from where she lay. She knew they were there--she looked at them without getting up--but she just didn't care. This is the same dog who a week ago was barking in fear at people standing in their very own yards, fifteen feet away from her, while we walked by. This is big stuff!

We did have one easily manageable barking incident near the end of the evening, but it wasn't a surprising result. A group of three or four (I can't remember now) talkative older adults were approaching us with two excited, fast-walking dogs, and they were spread across the whole sidewalk. I could see that they were going to have to pass very close to Mabel, so I held on tight to her, despite the fact that B. was convinced they would move over a little bit once they got to us. They didn't, and they let one of the dogs come right over to Mabel and Chance, and all of this was fine, but then in addition to the whole big group getting very close to Mabel, one of the men very sweetly remarked, looking at Mabel, on how well-behaved she was. The combination of so many bodies passing her at once, so close, and one of the people slowing down next to her, looking at her, and talking to her was enough to make her nervous, and she backed away and barked. But they kept moving, and Mabel quickly returned to a calm state. When subsequent people and dogs passed, she remained just as unbothered as before. This is a big deal. A week ago, if something or someone had scared Mabel, then everyone else following would have scared her and sent her barking too. But this time, she was able to experience a moment of anxiousness, get over it, and encounter subsequent people with a clean slate.

We didn't go to the park yesterday morning because of prepping for an afternoon family gathering or last night because we had training class (more on that later), but if the heat is bearable, we'll try again tonight. This kind of experience and exposure is proving to be even better for Mabel than I'd hoped. When she has these kinds of breakthroughs, I feel like my chest will explode with happiness for her. This isn't just about making her more adoptable; a life with less fear is simply going to be a far better, happier life for her.

Mabel and Humans: Overcoming the Fear

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 03:08:00 +0000

It looked like a pretty serious conversation. "Look," says Chance. "You think way too much of these two. They're nothing special. The rest of those bipeds out there? They're OK. Do something cute or look at them all wide-eyed, and a lot of them will even give you the good treats that these freaks never let us have at home. I mean, come on--carrots? They think carrots are treats? You've gotta learn to suck up to the other humans, Mabes. Seriously, butt on ground, bark held back, treats in mouth. Learn to work the system. "

Update, 7/4/08: We did the same thing again last night, and despite encountering several people in close proximity, she didn't bark at anyone. Not once! She was still nervous, but she didn't even start to bark at anyone. We were so proud. :) She did really well again this morning when we took her out among people, but she did have one scared barking incident, when two men suddenly came out a storefront entrance, on Mabel's left, just as we were passing it; they were much closer than others have been so far, they came out on her blind side, and they paid attention to her, leaning toward her a bit and talking to her and us--all things for which she wasn't ready and which terrified her (she tried to run into the street to get away from them). We're not walking tonight because of all the 4th of July noise (which also scares Mabel), but tomorrow, we have a date with a bustling park.
----

Tonight we began doing what we should have started doing weeks ago. *sigh* We've been too overwhelmed to think. Too much has been happening with both the humans and the canines and felines in this house for me to keep my head on straight.

Here's the thing: Mabel is scared of almost all people. Really scared. As in "I don't care if you look like Stephanie's gentle G-rated grandma and lie prostrate on the ground and hold out the the world's biggest, best, smelliest treat and sing lullabies; I'm going to bark at you nonstop and hide behind my foster mom's legs until you back the hell away" scared.

Yeah. It's a problem.

She was terrified of us at first too, but she was sick and in desperate need, so she was kind of forced to trust us relatively quickly. But note that I say "relatively quickly," not "immediately." You may recall that actually getting a hold of her and getting her into our yard and then, dear god, getting her across the yard, down the basement steps, and into the house was an absolute horror. It involved half an hour or more of lying down in the dirty alley with treats and food while Mabel repeatedly got within a couple feet of us and then scurried away, then another ten minutes of literally half-dragging, half-carrying her back to the yard, and finally another long process of coaxing her across the yard and into the house--getting her down the steps and in the door involved her running back up the steps a dozen times before we actually got her in and got the door closed behind her. But then, miraculously, after just a minute or two inside, she loved us. She didn't bark a single time that night, but I think that's because at that time, she was just so weak and sick that she didn't have it in her, and she probably was just beyond terrified and knew on some level that she needed help.

But look at us now! Like I said, once she was inside, everything changed, and since that first moment when she started licking our hands and faces 6 1/2 weeks ago, she hasn't shown an ounce of fear toward us again, not even once, and there's never been any aggression. But the only other human with whom she's had repeated, close contact is her often-mentioned beloved vet, who is wonderful with Mabel beyond belief and who too earned her trust quickly. Most other humans still get the bark-and-hide treatment when they try to get--or just happen to end up--close to Mabel. And though we fully, absolutely trust her to warm up to other people with time and patience, and though she has no interest in hurting anyone and just wants to run away from people, it's still hard to expect or ask other people--those who don't know her or trust her yet and who just hear that awful bark--to trust us and just sit there for half an hour and let her bark at them until she decides they're OK.

We've started realizing, though, in the last week that one of the reasons Mabel hasn't made much progress with other humans is that she just hasn't been around them. She's seen other humans at the two training class she's attended so far, but (1) they've kept their distance, and (2) they've been attached to dogs for the most part, and I've really started to believe that she's inherently less frightened of humans who are attached to dogs than humans on their own--as if the presence of those dogs and the humans' kindness toward those dogs provide proof to her that the humans aren't going to come over and hurt her. And as noted, she does pretty well at the vet's office. But otherwise, she's had only infrequent exposure to other people. Beyond these relatively few instances over the last 6 1/2 weeks, Mabel's only daily close exposure to non-us humans has been via the people who walk down the sidewalk past our yard. And that's an entirely different matter--that's a case of people walking in Mabel's territory, so she just barks and barks and barks at them while running along the fence.

We walk Mabel daily, but it didn't occur to us until just recently that we have not been walking her in the right places. We don't pass very many people on our walks. And this dog needs to get used to seeing people. Lots and lots of people. Close by. I mentioned this to Brandi last week--that we needed to start walking her in busier areas--but life continued to be chaotic, and we quickly forgot this plan and continued walking our usual, quiet, automatic routes. Then a friend whose advice I sought regarding how to help Mabel get used to humans and become trusting of them reminded me of the obvious again today: "I would suggest taking her to public places as much as you can . . . Walks downtown . . . parks . . . busy, bustling places. She'll get more comfortable with it."

So that's our new priority. Tonight, we headed toward the Macklind Avenue Deli, where we knew there'd be a crowd of people sitting outside, drinking and eating. A block from home, Mabel barked at two strangers who were walking door-to-door selling security systems. A block from the deli, she noticed an older couple sitting on their front porch and barked at them (they were friendly and took it quite well). And then we approached the deli on the corner. So many people! She let out one quick bark right as we approached and was visibly freaked out by all the bodies and noise (her tail moved between her legs immediately), but she didn't stop and bark. She allowed me to keep leading her on, and as we rounded the corner, walking down the other side of the deli's patio, she tried to speed up and get away from the people as fast as she could, but she still let out only a little half-bark. It took her another block to feel safe again--her tail remained tucked, and she kept swinging her head back and forth, looking around frantically, as if to make sure no one was going to sneak up on her--but I still say she made progress even on this first attempt. She kept walking and didn't freeze, and she didn't bark nonstop when the people were so close. On the home stretch, when we saw a woman in her front yard, Mabel didn't even start to bark at her--she tried to speed up a little to get past her, but she didn't bark.

We'll be doing this every evening that we can now--walking by places with outdoor seating and frequenting busy parks--and I'm optimistic that this is going to help significantly and maybe even quickly. Every time we pass a group of people, and those people fail to hurt her or even notice her, a little bit more of her fear will slip away. And soon enough, she will realize that not all people are like the people who hurt her after all, and she'll be ready to give the species a second chance. And the rest of the humans will be so lucky then--not because she's any kind of danger to them now, while she's afraid of them, but because everyone who meets her will more quickly get to experience her loving affection once she knows it's safe to give it to them.

Getting Back to Normal

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 18:08:00 +0000

I picked a bad spot, where she was hidden in shadows. And she picked a bad time to yawn/sneeze/make one of her crazy noises. This photo was doomed.

OK, so "tomorrow" turned out to be "the day after tomorrow." Sorry.

Mabel is almost back to new! The skin on her belly is (apparently) extremely itchy right now, and she's been scratching it like crazy since yesterday, leaving it raw, so we'll be asking the vet about that. But her energy and spirits are back up, which is so good to see. The moments in which she seems morose are much rarer now, and today when one of us sits next to her, she's back to doing just what presurgery Mabel always did--she wags her tail, licks our faces, and cuddles up against us. For several days, she was weird about mealtime and wouldn't eat if we weren't in sight, but this morning--though it initially appeared we were going to have a repeat of this scenario--I came back into the office (which, you may recall, is where she spends most of her daytime hours with me) after an absence of a few minutes to find her scarfing down her food. Whew.

We'll probably take her in to have her stitches removed on Thursday.

More to come later . . . dramatic stuff, positive stuff, in-between stuff--all sorts of stuff.

Chance and Mabel Pose for Treats

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 02:36:00 +0000

Sorry for the lack of updates. It's been crazy around here, and Mabel's foster mom (who feels the need to refer to herself in the third person for some reason this evening) has been overwhelmed. Updates will resume tomorrow sometime.

In the meantime, enjoy a buddy photo. :)

Another Surgery Recovery Update

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 03:26:00 +0000

Sweet Mabel is still in the process of recovering. Some behaviors (and some moaning) tell us that she's still feeling some pain, and there are parts of the day when she looks and acts really despondent, but she's certainly better than she was, and just-like-her-old-self moments of happy behavior and abundant affection are coming back with increasing frequency. And her mood always and immediately perks up when she gets to be around the other dogs (I should clarify--the other other dogs: she's with Chance the corgi lab all the time, so though she adores Chance, that's nothing special anymore, and what really gets her tail wagging is seeing Sara the black lab mix and Ella the greyhound, especially Sara). But of course, she's still moving very slowly. And she's not eating completely normally yet--both yesterday morning and this morning, she ate only a little bit before stopping, but she finishes her food if I give it back to her a couple hours later; late at night and early in the morning seem to be her roughest times.

Today's first photo was taken during one of her happy moments in the last day. Oh, how she loves to roll in the grass. The second one, below, is from the day of her surgery. As soon as Brandi set her down on the deck (after carrying her all the way from the car, while I ran into the yard and house to open all the gates and doors), Mabel pathetically trudged directly through the back door, through the kitchen, through the office, and into her crate to curl up her in bed. I don't know what the hell I was thinking taking a picture of her--the last thing she needed was a flash going off in her face (though, in my defense, her eyes were closed when I started to take the photo). I'm too much in the habit of trying to document everything.

Quick Recovery Update--More Tomorrow

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 03:55:00 +0000

She's better. So-sweet Jen was right--I left a message for the vet this morning, and when she called back late in the morning and listened to all that was going on here, she immediately said, "Let's get her some more meds for the pain and the nausea." Brandi zoomed off to the vet's office (I'm still desperately trying to meet a deadline amid all this, so Brandi worked from home today to help out) for three medicine-filled syringes--one for pain, one for nausea, and one antibiotic--and Mabel took the shots like a champ, not even flinching (I, predictably, did flinch--I am obviously not the one who actually gives shots around here; Chance needs them every other week, and I just can't do it). An hour later, Mabel was getting up and walking around for short bits at a time, and with the pain and nausea apparently under control, her appetite returned. Watching her eat, seeing her tail wag, and getting her to go down into the yard without having to drag her out of her bed--all of that brought much relief and lots of smiles. She's still a little slower than usual, and she's not as happy and overly affectionate as usual (though she still graced us with a couple instances of face-licking this afternoon and evening), but that's to be expected--she's going to need more than one day to recover. Possible emotional stuff aside, this wasn't a simple or easy surgery, and Mabel's body has been through a lot (the substantial puppy complication aside, I think people tend to forget that even a standard spay isn't a minor matter--it's so routine and recommended that its status as a full-fledged organ removal, a hysterectomy plus removal of the ovaries, isn't always kept in mind). But when, this evening, she started drinking water again and a couple times wandered over to the side of the deck to bark, like usual, at passersby, I knew she was going to be all right.

I so love this dog.

Mabel's Saddest Day

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 14:27:00 +0000

From yesterday morning, presurgery.

I wrote the following yesterday afternoon and last night but didn't post it. Her night was restless, and as of nine this morning, we still can't get her to drink or eat anything. She's drunk only a tiny bit of water between early yesterday evening and now, but she's thrown up twice--once when we took her outside before bedtime and again about half an hour ago--since the first time she threw up, in the car on the way home from the vet's office. The absolute disinterest in any and all food wouldn't worry me so much if she weren't also displaying a complete disinterest in--and refusal of--water. Normally, this dog would drink a river dry if you'd let her. We're worried about her.

***
6/23/08
6:00 p.m.

When I took Mabel to the vet’s office Friday to have her sore paw checked out, at which time we also found out she had a bad case of colitis (by chance, I saw her do her business in the yard as we were on our way out to the car to leave, and I noticed that it looked bad, so I took it in as a sample), I asked the vet what he thought about our pregnancy hypothesis. The overall exam was a pretty quick one, as was the check to see if she was pregnant. But he was sure she wasn’t; he couldn’t feel any puppies, and because she had to be at least 5 weeks along if she was pregnant (and a dog’s gestation period averages only about 63 days), he should have felt something. So, we determined, Mabel was dealing with a false pregnancy. I chalked up her weight gain in the area to false-pregnancy hormones and the fact that we’d been feeding her quite a bit to help her gain weight. (Note the “he” in this paragraph; we didn’t get to see Mabel’s much-loved usual vet.)

I took her in this morning for her spay surgery, and when we went to pick her up late this afternoon, her vet—the usual one we love—pulled us into an exam room to talk about how the surgery had gone. She looked like she’d had a long day. I’m glad I hadn’t yet told you (like I’d already told several other people) that Mabel was just having a false pregnancy.

When the veterinarian performed the surgery, she found nine puppies, she told us with emotion in her voice. Two of them were already dead, and their bodies were doing what bodies do once life is over and could have made Mabel very sick if the pregnancy had continued. The other seven, the doctor said, were very small. Given the shape that sick and starving Mabel was in when we found her and all the intravenous and oral medications she’s had in the last 5 1/2 weeks, there’s really no telling how many of the puppies would have made it in the end or what kind of condition they would have been in upon birth. Carrying the litter to term could have been extremely dangerous for Mabel. And we know too that caring for and finding homes for the surviving puppies likely would have been just impossible for us when we’re so drained already just caring for Mabel and all the other animals we have now. And of course, there are so many dogs, pit bulls especially, out there looking for homes already, adults and puppies alike.

But it is still a terribly sad day. We know that ending the pregnancy was ultimately best—best for Mabel; we can list all the logical reasons in support of that. But for her, our hearts are still heavy, and our eyes are still filled with tears. I believe that she knew she was pregnant. I believe that her heart and her body both were preparing to care for the little lives inside her (indeed, we witnessed some telltale behavior). And I believe that she can now, or will as she comes more and more out of her grogginess, sense that those little lives are gone, and I believe she will mourn that loss, if she isn’t mourning already. So much, so much—she has been through so much. And now there is this, this suddenly having something so natural and good taken from her, an experience that was solely hers, an experience she was anticipating. There are so many reasons that this is what had to happen, yet the guilt I feel is tremendous because I still can't help but feel that today we took from her something that we did not have the right to take from her. Some selfish, abusive humans didn’t get the puppies they wanted to sell, and they'll never again have Mabel to exploit. But Mabel didn’t get the puppies she wanted to love.

She is moaning and crying a high-pitched cry as I write this. I am crying as I write this. It is a room full of pain and sorrow.

***
10:48 p.m.

It is almost 11 p.m. now. I wrote the preceding account several hours ago. The night has been really rough for Mabel, and we haven’t been able to coax her out of her bed for anything. Even getting her outside before bedtime and then—much worse—back in was a nightmare; it turned out to be a matter of forcing her rather than “getting her,” which is incredibly difficult when she’s just had surgery, and we can’t simply or easily pick her up, especially when she won’t even come out of a lying-down or sitting-down position. She is simply refusing to move, and when she was standing outside in the yard, still as stone, staring at me as I begged her to come to me, she looked just like she did the night we found her—frozen in pain and fear. Both when we were trying to get her out of the office and through the kitchen to the back door, to encourage her to go outside, and when I needed to move her from the office to the living room, so that she could sleep next to me (there’s no way she was going to make it to the basement bedroom tonight), her bed had to be dragged across the house with her in it. She’s had very little interest in water tonight and zero interest in even a small amount of food or treats, and a series of efforts to get a Rimadyl down her throat to help with the pain were completely unsuccessful.

More later.

"Now what?" she says.

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 23:01:00 +0000

Mabel goes back to the vet tomorrow morning. This will be her fifth visit in under five weeks. (And the humans here have been to the vet's office for her seven times; two trips involved picking up meds sans Mabel.)

When I let her outside before dinner, I noticed immediately that she was walking with a distinct limp and frequently holding up her back left leg while she stood. Upon inspecting her paw, I found oozy stuff between her toes (and trooper that she is, she handled the inspection very calmly, just slowly pulling the paw away when I touched the part that hurt). So it looks like we have an infection on our hands. She's been off antibiotics for the last few days for the first time since we found her. Back on 'em, we go, I'm sure.

In other news, become of some bodily changes, we're worried she might be pregnant. She was in heat when we found her, but because she was apparently in the proestrus stage, it seemed very unlikely that she could have become pregnant yet, so we didn't give this possibility much thought in the beginning. We're giving it lots of thought now. Her spay surgery is scheduled for Monday. Oy.

First Day of School

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 13:56:00 +0000

Mabel attended her first training class last night (the humans all met last week, prior to bringing in the dogs), and I must say that we were proud! We were among the first to arrive, so the surroundings were still quiet and peaceful (or as quiet and peaceful as is possible when the dog park is located next to the interstate) when we entered the park and greeted two other sets of dog parents and their dogs, and Mabel remained very calm. She cautiously but happily sniffed the other dogs' faces and seemed oblivious to the proximity of the dogs' people (this was before the teachers came into the park and asked us to keep three feet between all dogs at all times, so it was Mabel's first and only chance to interact with the other dogs on this particular night).

We received confirmation that she still feels at ease more immediately with other dogs than she does with other people, and she needs slow introductions to people, ideally in calm environments, but she still did very well. She became scared of approaching people a couple times and so barked a bit and hurried to hide behind us, but she also calmed down with the assistant teacher and let her get close two times after initially barking and hiding (the first time the assistant teacher approached, it was just as an influx of dogs and people suddenly came flowing into the park and toward Mabel, which seemed to overwhelm her). Beyond other factors, last night's events were all happening in a new, busy environment that probably still felt overwhelming to Mabel even by the end of class. When the teacher, who has many years of experience with dogs, came up to Mabel for the first time while she was lying completely down--and thus perhaps feeling too vulnerable to the approach of a stranger--Mabel barked and hid behind us. But a couple weeks ago, when my sister who is not very comfortable with or knowledgeable about dogs came to the house and walked right up to her, Mabel--with Chance at her side--didn't seem to mind at all and just happily stood there waiting to be petted, tail wagging, so it seems likely that her reactions and feelings of fear and safety are strongly influenced, understandably, by the environment in which the introduction takes place and by her physical preparedness to engage in that introduction. I have no doubt whatsoever that this class will help her become more comfortable with and trusting of other humans--we just have to give her time to learn that the vast majority of people want to love her, not hurt her.

But overall, Mabel did great! We've known for a couple weeks now that she's a quick learner, and she showed that again last night. I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it plenty more times: she's eager to please. She demonstrated all the homework behaviors we'd practiced in the past week (and the ones we've been practicing on our own since we found her) very well--even despite our sense that we hadn't done enough practicing with her because of the chaotic nature of our lives right now. She calmly and quickly did the things we asked her to, and she seemed completely unnerved by the presence of the other dogs, even when a dog near her repeatedly became excitable and talkative. When we were in the large circle, practicing behaviors, one dog-human set at a time, I could see only one noticeable behavior that differentiated Mabel from the other dogs--the rest of the dogs stood next to or in front of their people and looked out into the circle, facing the other people and dogs. Mabel, however, always stood, sat, or lay facing us. It was as if she didn't give a damn about what was happening behind her--her priority was keeping her eyes (or just "eye," I guess) on us and making sure we didn't go anywhere.

We're excited to see all the progress we know she's going to make in the coming weeks. And just one clarification for any prospective adoptive families out there: I want to point out, as I've done before, that even when Mabel is scared, as in the instances I just mentioned, her instinct is not to be aggressive, not to growl, not to snap, not to lunge forward--her instinct is simply to bark a bit and hide. She doesn't want to go at the person of whom she's scared; she wants to get away. She's not aggressive, just scared, and time, patience, love, and continued exposure to people who want to care for her rather than hurt her are alleviating and will continue to alleviate that fear.

Walking, Sitting, Healing, Cuddling

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 18:22:00 +0000

Have I mentioned that given the opportunity, she will climb all over you and lick your face raw?

We've been using the Gentle Leader for a week or two now (I can't keep track of the time anymore!) on walks, and though Mabel hasn't given up tugging entirely, especially when we first start out down the sidewalk, walks with her are definitely more controlled than they were once we reached the end of her first week here. When she first arrived, and we first started walking, pulling was not a concern at all. She was so baffled by the concept of taking walks around the neighborhood or was so afraid that we were going to run off and leave her when she wasn't looking that she moved very slowly and stayed close to us--too slow and too close almost, stopping and turning her head around or looking up every few seconds to be sure we were still there and causing us to run into her sometimes in the process. But once she felt safer and more comfortable, she started tugging when she wanted to get further ahead to the other dogs or just move faster than we were going. She was anything but thrilled with the head collar at first, but she's tolerating it pretty well now, only rarely pawing at it or rubbing her face against the sidewalk in an attempt to get it off--for example, maybe once or twice during just one of the day's walks instead of every six feet on every one of the day's walks.

She has taken to the "sit" command easily too. She sits when told to much more quickly and consistently than the other dogs around here, and I'm not surprised; she is nothing if not eager to please.

She hasn't tried to jump on any couches or beds in over a week (maybe two weeks), and I'm damn proud of her for that too, especially given that she regularly sees Ella and Sara on the love seat when we corral all four dogs into the living room in the evenings (allowing Ella and/or Sara up there is just about the only way we can keep everyone in the same small area while also giving everyone enough personal space; it also minimizes the chance of whining or wrestling from Ella). It's not that we wouldn't love to have her cuddling next to us--she is a serious, serious cuddler--and hopefully, her permanent family will indeed welcome her onto their couches, but for now, we don't want her to have any habits that might put off her future family or make her transition into their home any more difficult than necessary. For her sake, in terms of other people's reactions to and expectations of her, we want her to jump up on furniture only when she's invited to and not just whenever she feels like it. So she just curls up at my feet on her bed, periodically sitting up so that she can rest her head on my lap or on the couch next to my legs for a while.

And no, I did not misspell "heeling" in the title. I really am talking about her healing, not any kind of training. Her ear flap, a week out from removal of plastic and stitches, looks great. The wounds on her leg and head, including the ones she sustained after joining our household, such as when she took a scary tumble down the deck steps a couple weeks ago (see earlier posts about her left-eye blindness and general clumsiness), are looking much better--another week, and I bet they'll be barely noticeable, if visible at all. She has gained weight steadily and as of a week ago needed to put on just a few more pounds. And the antibiotic that she's been on, without pause, from the beginning--first to fight her ear infections, then to stave off infection in a small leg wound, and now to help clear up a possible skin infection--are doing their thing. The couple small spots where she's had lesions aren't yet covered by hair again, but the skin is no longer red and inflamed. And with our newfound knowledge of her compromised sight and her increasing knowledge of and comfort with her surroundings, I'm relieved to report that there haven't been any more major stumbles or head bangings.

And best of all? She's as happy and funny and loving a dog as ever. She probably won't be quite as happy as usual for a few days next week--she's getting spayed next Wednesday--but I've no doubt that she'll recover quickly from that too; nothing keeps this girl down.

Pass the Soy Cheese, Please

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 17:17:00 +0000

Mabel does not like peanut butter. At all. No other canine around this house ever passes up the stuff--in fact, I'm not sure I've known any dogs who do--but Mabel does. She right away turns up her nose (literally).

She is a great fan, however, of Tofutti Better Than Cream Cheese and doesn't care at all that it comes with a giant antibiotic capsule.

Her Beautiful Eyes: They Tell Even More About Her Than We Thought

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 23:45:00 +0000

It may be that Mabel's a little clumsy. It's hard to say. We certainly have witnessed her simply not paying attention to what's around her when she's excited, but during a visit to get the stitches out of her ear today, I relayed my concerns about her seeming clumsiness and other matters to the vet who has been caring for Mabel since we found her (and who is remarkable in the patience and time she gives us; we love her, and so does Mabel). She listened to me and examined Mabel and was able to tell us within minutes that there's more to Mabel's issues than clumsiness.

Suddenly, her turning into walls sometimes makes sense. Suddenly, we realize why there are times when she acts surprised by something for no apparent reason. There are half a dozen habits and behaviors and incidents on which we are reflecting while saying, "Of course--how could we not have noticed?" because watching her now, it's just so painfully obvious in all of her movements. And I'm horrified now by the number of times I've said in exasperation (as if she could understand me), "Mabel, would you watch where you're going?"

Mabel is blind in her left eye. And normally, even if she'd gone blind in the eye, Mabel's pupil would still constrict in response to light shining into it, but it doesn't; this indicates that the eye is blind as a result of optic nerve damage--which the vet tells us was likely caused by trauma.

Every time we think our hearts have broken for her as much as they can, we figure out another little piece of her sad history.

Now that we know about the blindness in her left eye, we can approach her needs better both in and out of the home (e.g., making sure that when other dogs or people approach to meet her, they don't come from her left and startle her), and we're so sad for her, but we know that she's OK and that there are worse diagnoses. We don't know how long she's been blind in that eye, but she's done fairly well so far, we're sure that she'll get better and better at compensating as time goes on, and now that we know, we can be better about not creating or contributing to circumstances that could be difficult for her. For example, I'm now thinking back to one of the instances when she stumbled down the deck steps--she likes to keep me in sight at all times, and I was accompanying her down the steps on her left side. When she stopped partway down and turned so much that she stumbled down the last step or two, it was because she was trying to see me and had to turn her head and body that far to do so.

Adding another injury to the list of known injuries that Mabel has suffered was not what I wanted to do today, but we're glad to now know what's going on. It will be better now. Everything will be better for her now. That, we are promising her.

The Calm After the Storm

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 14:23:00 +0000

She's been here 2 1/2 weeks now, and I'm amazed at (and grateful for) how much life with Mabel has calmed down. Our routines are not nearly back to normal, and B. and I still haven't both left the house for any real length of time (twice, we've taken walks around the neighborhood while leaving Mabel in her crate to see how she does: the first time, she calmed down after a while; the second time, she was still howling away by the time we had to come back inside). But it's definitely, absolutely better today than it was two weeks ago. This week, for the first time since she came to us, I feel like I might even be able to work a halfway normal schedule, without falling too much further behind. She's clearly feeling at home these days, and she's calmer. Tomorrow, her stitches come out, and the plastic comes off her ear flap. Then we schedule her spaying.

We're learning more about her every day, but what has become more obvious than perhaps anything else (beyond her sweetness) in the last couple weeks is that this sweet dog is an absolute klutz. It's as if she has no concept of space, no realization of what surrounds her. She steps on--and sits on--Chance (and is lucky that Chance is so laid-back). She turns and shakes her head right into walls and door frames. She tumbles down the steps from the deck to the yard. She made herself bleed twice over the course of just 5 or 6 days. The first time even required a late-night visit to our regular vet (not the vet who usually sees Mabel, whose office was closed), who--perhaps overhearing me mention the possibility to Brandi just before she came into the exam room--said she didn't see any signs of neurological problems. I'm not entirely convinced that there isn't something more going on, but it does seem possible that Mabel really is just clumsy and awkward--and so curious and excited about what's happening around her that she just doesn't pay enough attention to what's stationary around her or to where her body is going.

But she's getting a little better--at least with the steps. With help, she's learning to take them slowly, one step at a time, and I'm doing my best to make sure she's not distracted while she goes down them. She hasn't fallen down or stumbled on them in at least a couple days, which is definite progress. But she's still periodically sitting on Chance.

More of Mabel (Or At Least More of My Underwear) Than You Ever Wanted to See

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Fri, 30 May 2008 21:39:00 +0000

As I've mentioned before, when Mabel arrived almost two weeks ago, she was still in the part of her heat cycle during which she discharges blood. And on her first full day here, we decided that we had to do something to keep her from dripping all over as she walked around the house.

Brandi asked if I had any old underwear. I did. I had an old pair that I hadn't worn in a long time in part because I switched to a more comfortable style at some point and in part because the material was torn from the band in one place.

So with some scissors, a bread tie, a menstrual pad, and my unmentionables, we made Mabel a diaper.

She looked ridiculous but, luckily, didn't have to wear the contraption more than a day. I never thought I'd be posting photos of my underwear on the Internet, but I'm sure Mabel never expected to be wearing them either. The poor girl looks humiliated, doesn't she?

(By the way, the makeshift diaper wasn't on quite right in these photos. I fixed it later. And as it turned out, that hole between the fabric and the band was the perfect place for Mabel's tail to stick out.)

Mabel's Debut

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Fri, 30 May 2008 15:33:00 +0000

Yes, I did it. I gave Mabel her own blog. The posts that first appeared on my Vida blog are now copied here too. I may continue posting her updates on Vida as well, but here, all the Mabel posts will be featured together without interruptions by posts about family, food, environment, or other non-Mabel topics.

The Jingling! The Jingling!

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Wed, 28 May 2008 18:45:00 +0000

Mabel has a tag now--which must be a first because it completely freaked her out for the first five minutes she was wearing it. She was a dog on high alert as she threw her head about and zoomed around in circles trying to figure out what that jingling was. Where the HELL is that coming from?! said her wide, confused eyes. Twice she gave up and settled down, only to be startled up onto her feet again by her own small movements. It was a tiny bit sad, but also hilarious. I wish I could have captured her reaction on video; still shots don't do it justice. That was a couple days ago. She doesn't even notice it now (the freak-out really did last only a few minutes).

By the way, yes, we've settled on the name Mabel. I still like Maybelle (as in "May beauty") better, but B. doesn't, and Mabel is better than Maybel (Maybull wasn't ever seriously in the running). We hadn't really decided on this, but suddenly, we were purchasing her tag and realized we had to put a name on it--a name, not multiple names separated by slashes. So . . . Mabel. Unless I decide to get her a new tag. ;)

Maybelle/Maybel/Maybull the Pit Bull

noreply@blogger.com (Stephanie E.) — Thu, 22 May 2008 18:45:00 +0000

The night she appeared in our neighborhood, she remained terrified while a neighbor and I kept her constantly in sight and worked to get close to her. She wanted to trust us--wanted to come to us--and would periodically get oh-so-close before panicking and skittering away again. The situation wasn't helped by the fact that she early on moved into the alley that runs behind our house, so every time we'd make some progress with her, a car would appear and scare her off again. Probably 30 minutes into it and one street over, we were able to get a collar and leash on her while she was inhaling a bowl of wet food that Brandi had run home to get. Subsequently getting her down one block, around a corner, and partway down another block to our yard involved our neighbor lifting and carrying her back end while I led her along with the leash, essentially forcing her front two legs to go forward; she had planted her butt firmly on the ground, too terrified to even move, as soon as we'd started trying to lead her with the leash. (We were surprised that she let us move her the way we did--she didn't show even a hint of aggression--but we figured that picking her up might be pushing it and freak her out too much.) She cowered at the back of the yard for a while, as far as she could get from where we sat in the grass, and we let her have that time. We finally coaxed her, gradually, into the basement with another bowl of food, and once inside, she was all over us within minutes--this is a dog who wants and seeks love and affection more than any other dog in this house.

She came to us scarred physically as well as emotionally. Sores and abrasions were scattered across her face and front legs. She had serious infections in both ears. Her left ear flap was swollen like a balloon with a hematoma. She had fleas. She had a hard bump of jutting bone underneath her jaw, indicative of a break. It turned out that she had hookworms. She was too, too thin. And she’d had puppies recently.

That first night was long. There was no way we could bring her in to sleep with us and the other dogs that first night--forget the overwhelming smell and the dirt and the blood drops (from being in heat) and the fleas; we just couldn't take the risk of introducing her to all the dogs that night. She was so scared, it was dark, our dogs were anxious, and we were inside in close quarters. We first tried getting her to sleep in the adjacent dog room (with multiple dog beds and a cozy, blanketed mattress) by herself, but "no freakin' way," said Maybel. Every time we left the room and closed the door, she started howling and crying like someone was beating her. It was horrible. So we had to take shifts sleeping with her. (She even cried and had to be calmed every time just one of us left a room the first couple days.) It was among the worst nights of sleep I've ever had, not only because of the uncomfortable surface on which I was sleeping, but also because a stinky pit bull kept trying to climb on top of me.

We applied Frontline to her back Saturday night. We took her to Pets in the City for a serious flea and odor bath Sunday afternoon and bought her a big bag of food that is helping her gain weight. We went to the vet on Monday. And again on Tuesday and Wednesday. We are scheduled to start her in a training class in early June; Maybel’s training will be free for us because she is a fostered rescue.

When we took her to the veterinary clinic used by a local rescue organization, which is paying for her medical bills, a doctor whom we liked instantly (and who has her own pit bull at home) confirmed for us what we'd suspected--Maybel's jaw had been broken at some point, and she did need surgery for the hematoma. When we came back for Maybel in a few hours, she was bloody not only around her ear (which was drained and which currently has a piece of plastic stitched against it to flatten it) but also around her mouth—the vet had found three broken, infected teeth that needed to be removed too. There was even something (the vet thought it was possibly a piece of wood) jammed up in the root of one of the teeth. My god, broken jaw, broken teeth, nasty ear infections, cuts and scrapes and sores, fleas, hookworms, malnourishment. How miserable and overcome by pain was she for how long? So much pain, so much sorrow, so much fear for an animal who's lived only 1 1/2 to 2 years.

The couple nights following the first were only slightly better. Having her sleep in the same room as everyone else was rough initially (and almost traumatic at one moment), but it's getting better. Bedtime involves just-before-bed interactions outside; two baby gates; and hawk-eye vigilance, a leash, and a spray bottle (she tries to jump up on the bed, which gives her dominant access to the dogs on the other side) until she's settled down in her bed. We're learning, and so is she.

Over the course of her first few days with us, circumstances grew increasingly more complicated, and we feared several times that we were in over our heads and that we absolutely couldn't do this. And truthfully, we are in over our heads. But we're still going to keep trying. Day by day, she's making progress. We've had some setbacks, sometimes frightening ones, but often, those setbacks have been largely the result of mistakes or poor judgment on our part, the result of our doing something the way we're used to doing it without thinking about how it might play out with Maybel, who is still new here and who is still recovering from whatever awful things have happened to her.

But the quickness with which she gifted us with her trust and the affection and sweetness that she displays say something about her resiliency and personality both. This dog will be a wonderful, loving, loyal, long-term pet for someone. She just has some injuries, both physical and emotional, that need to heal.

We are currently working on crate training (we moved furniture between floors so that we could put the crate in the office, where she, Chance, and I are spending most of our time for various reasons, including convenience and the location of the other animals), and though she’s not yet OK with being left in the room alone with the crate’s door latched, she started using the crate almost instantly, without any coaxing or training. The first time I put the bed that she uses both day and night into the crate, she immediately went in. I’ve been teaching her “go to your bed,” and most of the time, she follows the command pretty well. Better yet, several times a day, she crawls into the crate all on her own to nap in her bed. And yesterday, I even got to shower without someone else here to keep Maybel calm. Big stuff. I latched the door and let her watch me walk across the hall into the bathroom, and she was mostly fine. I could hear her whimpering a little bit, but she didn’t bark and howl and cry like she’s been doing when I try to actually leave the house or go downstairs. Progress.

We go back to the veterinary clinic in about two weeks to have the plastic and stitches removed from Maybel’s ear. We go back in about three weeks so that she can be spayed. And then, once she has healed from the spaying, she will be adoptable.

It’s astounding to think that our beagle night was just a month ago. We haven't even recovered from that yet. We've still been thinking about that surviving beagle and looking for information about her every day. But now our hearts and thoughts are full of Maybel too. Barring any catastrophes, even if it takes every ounce of energy and patience and emotional strength we have, we're going to make sure she gets the life and home she deserves. She just wants love. And I don't think that's too much to ask.

P.S. Want to vote on the spelling & pronunciation of her name? ;)