Who knows what happened to Roxie?

When I got her, she was so afraid of people and dogs she would go into attack mode. Her motto: “I’ll hurt your before you can hurt me.”

She snapped at Ken’s hand when he tried to pet her too quickly. She snarled and lunged at Riley, my next-door neighbor’s 16-year-old, half blind, totally deaf Shih Tzu. In the dog park, when I wasn’t paying attention, Lacey, a gentle rescue, came through the gate and Roxie bit her.

I’ve learned.

We never go into the dog park unless no one’s there. I watch that line of hairs that go up on her spine, my first clue that she doesn’t feel safe. My job is to let her know it’s not her job to protect me, it’s my job to protect her.

Roxie and I first worked with a trainer who tried every sort of collar that exists. Roxie pulled so hard on the leash that I had to walk with the leather lead behind my hips, using my body weight to keep her from running off and me from falling over.

I thought she was being headstrong.

I was wrong.

She was petrified.

Trying to run to safety.

We went through a standard collar, a ‘gentle leader,’ a harness, another kind of collar, and then, a metal collar with bent spikes. Roxie still pulled, and I worried about neck punctures.

The trainer said, “Maybe this is as good as she’s going to get.”

The second trainer used an ‘e-collar,’ which “delivers an electrical stimulus to the dog.”

I was wary, but the trainer explained that if you shock a dog with it, you’re using it wrong. The stimulus should feel annoying, not painful. Distracting, like a fly buzzing at your ear. The purpose of the stimulus is to take the dog’s attention off the thing they’re afraid of and return it to you.

The e-collar settings go from 0 to 99. The trainer said most dogs start out at about 10, but since Roxie was reactive, we’d start at 5.

The first time Roxie disobeyed a command, the trainer corrected her verbally. The second time, the trainer gave the command and used the e-collar, set at 5. Roxie leapt, all four legs off the ground. The trainer took it down to 3.

Over the months, as I walked Roxie, I thought about what it’s like to live as a dog that freaks out when it encounters something that’s only a 3-level threat, when other dogs don’t freak out until they get to 10 or more. It would be like me having a meltdown if I heard someone sneeze.

It would be like me having a meltdown if someone criticized my work.

Roxie’s not the only one who’s hypersensitive.

Roxie’s nervous system has calmed down. A setting of 3 is meaningless to her, as is 5. She’s now at an 8 before the e-collar gets her attention.

I’m glad Roxie is calmer. I think part of the reason is I’m calmer, too.

Sometimes when we’re on a walk, I’ll stop and she’ll sit at my side and we’ll stay there, just to prove the point: we can be outside, we can see people nearby, and dogs in the distance, and we can be calm.

Chewing the Cud of Good

Thankful that neither Roxie nor I gave up.