Not much is known about my pal Joe. He is about six years old and before he found himself in the care of my local dog pound he had lived with a couple who had serious alcohol problems. Neighbours believe that, for approximately two years, he was kept in a toilet, without any company or toys and only occasional food. When Joe’s dad died, it is thought they were alone in the house for a couple of days.

So how would you go about helping a dog like Joe? A dog who hasn’t met other dogs?

A dog who doesn’t know where or when his next meal is coming and has had to use his own space as a toilet.

Having spent only three days in the local pound, Joe was released to his rescue Mum, Carol. Now Carol is a long-time dog owner and her own dog had passed away almost a year before. She was looking for a new friend to love, feed, cherish and walk. Joe’s handsome yet skinny frame grabbed her by the heart and pulled hard. He came home, was bathed and had his first “at home meal” in a warm kitchen all the time being told he was a “good boy”. That night he followed Carol up to bed and has slept on her bedroom floor ever since. Surprisingly, he was clean in the house from the start and not possessive with food. Oh but with other dogs… He didn’t know what to do.

The work begins

For months, every time he met a dog, he would lunge at them trying to “mouth” the way a puppy would. But a big puppy with six-year-old teeth. He would bark and pull on the lead making it necessary to hold on with two hands. Our boy, who was great on the lead from day one, would become a barking, frenzied dog who couldn’t pay attention to anything else and who frequently caught his handlers in his mouth. He didn’t bite hard. He just didn’t know what he was doing. Friends started getting their dogs out of the way when they saw him coming and after three months, Carol began to wonder if he’d ever “get it”. On the advice of a friend (with an agility dog team) she started serious work on his recall using treats and several leads tied together to increase his return distance. Every time he came back he got a hug, a “good boy” and a treat. His outbursts were treated with a strong “No” and he was held to the ground to be still, being released as soon as he relaxed.

During the winter, Carol’s sister became ill and had six weeks of treatment, five days a week. My mum took over the afternoon walkies, working on his profound affection for people by crouching down behind small bushes or grass clumps and shouting “Joe Bug. Come sweetie.” He started returning every time after a couple of days, always to be greeted with a fuss and a hug and lots of praise.

Anyone who’s had a spaniel will know about the full body wag. At this point Joe was body wagging for pretty much the entire hour and a half but still, meeting other dogs was a fearful time for everyone. The idea was to grab his long chain of leads to allow some contact but to be able to rein him in if necessary. He was praised and given a hand to smell (a favourite acknowledgement) for good behaviour and if it had gone badly, pulled away to wait until he calmed down. This was a very physical process but slowly, it began to work.

Joe’s a dog who loves people and company and successfully rehabilitating him relied on this natural affection, to help overcome his inexperience.

Through December and January, a change began to take place. He met some BIG pups. Labradors who wanted to play and whose size worked in their favour. The number of dogs he could rough and tumble with grew. They were all mouthing and would yelp if it was too much. He had begun his dog language tuition and he was a quick learner.

By the end of February, he and Carol were ready to move on to the big guns. Me. From our first meeting, he was too much. He was nipping me and mouthing me and bounding about in front of me. I hated him. We would meet and I would pull away dodging around trees just to get away from the sight of him. But, you know Mums. We started with distance meeting with us both on leads and handlers shouting across about eight feet of clear space. A few weeks of this led to five-minute walks with me off lead and Joe on lead. Within a few weeks of this we were both off the lead but still he wouldn’t stop running in front of me and asking me to play. No matter how many times I said “No”.

Help comes in a plastic bottle

Around this time, we discovered “stones in a bottle”. Take a normal water bottle, put in a handful of small stones and shake. Boy it’s a noisy tool! At home, each time he had a barking outburst (no Joe the bin men aren’t stealing your stuff and we like the postman), Carol would shake the bottle near him, say “No Joe, No” and he began to respond. As soon as he stopped, which is now at the sight of the bottle, he was praised.

It’s now about eight months since he came home. We can walk together and he has given up on asking me to play.

He’s responsive and (mostly) obedient, happy and playful. He knows who carries treats on the walks and will sit patiently with five or six other dogs waiting his turn. He knows who likes to play, who will throw a ball and whose ball not to steal! He knows his next meal will come and that the postman isn’t breaking and entering.

At home, so long as the interior doors are open, he will happily lounge on the landing and greets visitors like long-lost friends bearing cash.

It took love, empathy, consistency, persistence, good food and a lot of tears but he’s now one of the best loved and most handsome boys on this block. So take heart.
 

All pictures courtesy of @JaneSoup

Tagged as: Dogs, rescue dogs, Springer Spaniel