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mararupners

I lost her last Wednesday. It happened so shockingly fast but, let’s be honest here, should not have really been a surprise. Ogs is a GSD/pit/foxhound (!!!) mix with serious prey drive. And she needs to fulfill that drive. Bad. So I walk her in the woods whenever feasible. But her recall is spotty and with the bite history off leash is not an option I’m comfortable with, so I’ve started using a long (30ft) lead in places where I know we are extremely unlikely to run into people or other dogs.

We went out around 3pm, and were doing GREAT. Using the dog whistle and working on recall and stop commands with the long lead. Getting in lots of good sniffs. But it was cold, and dark comes early, so we were heading back to the car when suddenly…deer. Those goddamn deer. She saw them before I did, which is where things went wrong. When she sees prey, everything we’ve worked so hard at goes out the fucking window. Sometimes if I see them first I can recall her, rein her in, grab the handle on her harness. Other times I literally run around the closest tree with the leash so the tree helps me hold her back. (And, yes, I fully realize this is insane.)

But nothing worked this time. I was too late to react. She froze – ears up, tail up, every muscle tensed and I knew she was about to go for it, and after a split second, she did. The force almost took me down, the leash that was wrapped around my wrist and my hand multiple times just came loose, almost taking a couple of my fingers with it. And she was gone. Deeper into the woods, across the county road that runs through the park, up a ridge and then out of sight. I called. I blew the whistle. I listened. Repeat. Repeat. I crossed the road and started bushwacking in the direction I last saw her. Whistle. Call. Wait. Nothing. FUCK.

And then I took a breath. I was not on a trail anymore. It was about an hour to sunset, 90 minutes until I had to pick up my son at after school care. It was cold and I needed backup. I called my husband, who is home these days, on week 10 post-knee replacement surgery. (OK, so, not really ideal on the backup front, but much needed emotional support.) I walked back down to the road to meet him. We made a sort of plan. He started circling the park in his truck calling for her and I drove home to get better gloves and a headlamp. I went back and parked near where I lost her. Whistle, call, listen. It was getting close to the time where I knew I would need to take a break and go pick up my son, and I decided to make one last loop, this time going not in the direction she ran off, but retracing our original route back to where we had first parked. And sure enough. Whistle, call – and there it is – terrified, whiny, howly barking. So, like a game of Marco Polo – whistle, call, insane barking, walk toward barking. I found her about 5 minutes later. The lead was all kinds of tangled, she was stuck, but she was safe. Smart girl had tried to head back to where the car originally was. Holy shit. I even made it to aftercare pick up.

And I am going to have to rethink this long lead in the woods thing, which I really though was genius. Damn.

Our Story

Some days are just ordinary days, and some days are the kinds of days on which, without warning, everything tilts.

Friday, January 6, 2023 was one of those kinds of days.

I was working from home. My husband Aini took our two-year old dog Ogle to the dog park. It’s their thing. She gets a bunch of exercise and he gets to chit chat with his dog peeps.

They were gone for a long time. And when he got home, he came into my office. Pale. Shaky. He sat down. And proceeded to tell me that Ogle had chased down and brutally attacked another dog. There were multiple deep bites; the other dog was taken to the emergency vet. Ogle didn’t have a scratch.

The next few days were a blur of tears and severe anxiety and text message exchanges with the other owner. The other dog recovered. We drained our savings and borrowed money to pay the vet bills.

We looked at our dog with new eyes. We looked at ourselves with new eyes. What the hell had just happened? And what the hell do we do now?

True confession. After much soul-searching and research, we did try to rehome her. We had visions of her living with more competent owners, on a couple of acres of land, with fewer stressors. A place where she could be who she is. But…an adult dog with a bite history. Who would want to take her? Turns out, nobody.

So here she still is. And here we still are. And this blog is a reflection on our continued journey with this intense, wonderful, complicated, smart, anxious, beautiful and incredibly challenging dog.