Honey, I broke the dog

Here's a strange little story for your consideration:

A few weeks ago, I came home from work on a Friday night. There was nothing extraordinary about this Friday night. I wasn't especially late nor unexpectedly early. I came in the door to my regular welcome home: Jan, in his upstairs office called down "Hello" and Bella, from her perch in the kitchen came bounding into the bedroom to greet me.

Bella and I did our routine little 'snuggle snuggle kiss kiss' and all seemed well. Although in retrospect, Bella did seem just a tad more excited to see me than usual.

I'm not 100% sure of exactly what happened next but I ended up with my hand petting her neck and she screamed in pain. And then she lunged at me.

Oddly, Bella often seems to 'know' it's me even when she flips out and the very second her mouth connected with my hand, she stopped herself. By this time I was standing (I am not as dumb as I look after all) but I did not raise my voice or my hand. She was obviously hurt or scared and reacting to protect herself. She immediately went into a very submissive posture and was trying to cuddle as she cowered next to me.

Posing with her "Peace and Paws Rescue" calendar.

Safety first

I wanted to check her out to see what the heck I had done to hurt her so I quickly grabbed her muzzle and put it on while yelling up to Jan to stay upstairs.

Bella has been trained to accept a muzzle for safety purposes but she's not crazy about it. Still, if there was any possibility my checking her out would lead to her mouth on my skin, she was going to get checked out wearing her muzzle.

And indeed, when I gently ran my hand over her neck, she screamed in pain again and had another little flip out, although not one involving teeth. And again, immediately she was back near me, submissively cowering at my feet.

As an aside, there are no words I could ever find to describe how unspeakably heart-breaking and devastating it is to see her in these moments. There just aren't.

I have never, ever in our history hit Bella. And yet, I have hurt her on two other occasions in the past. Under these exact same circumstances: coming home from work, a happy, excited, little greeting turns into Bella howling in pain at the most inoffensive touch. The really strange thing is it has been while I was touching different parts of her body each time - once on her "croup" (the top of her butt area near the tail) and the other time on her hind right thigh/flank.

They all think I'm nuts

I have tried to recount these situations to vets we have seen in the past about various ailments but they have looked at me like I was losing my mind. I don't know what it is and I don't know what to do about it. I can say that I'm glad, at this time, it has only happened to me and that Bella recognizes me enough to restrain her bite. I do not want to think of what would happen were someone else other than me to trigger her trouble spot.

In fact, I don't even know if it's even possible for someone else to trigger it. This has only happened when she's been interacting with me and all 3 times after I've come home from work. Is there something in her anatomy that gets "tweaked" when she gets so excited? Is she pulling a muscle or pinching a nerve? Is a vertebra slipping out of place? I don't even know what the possibilities could be.

Then again, is this part of what has been happening between her and Jan? While I don't believe there has been any of the "screaming in agony" as part of their altercations, could it be something we have missed?

I do believe there is a component to Bella's issues with Jan that stems from her fear of being hurt rather than any actually pain endured. And yet, in the situation that has happened with me it feels clear that I did in fact hurt her even though I have no idea how or why. And even though I may have actually hurt her, still she moderates her reaction.

Oh Bella, it's a good thing you're cute. 

Bella is a complicated girl and I spend an awful lot of time trying to figure her out. But at this point, the vets don't seem to have any answers and I don't honestly know what to do about an issue that has manifest itself only 3 times in the last 5+ years. If anyone has ever experienced a similar situation or has any insight at all into what is going on here, I welcome all counsel.

A story of hope and progress (For Miles)

There's a story I've been wanting to tell about Bella's progress for a while now but so many other things kept taking precedence. Then something rather serendipitous happened this weekend that made the telling a priority. Let me start with that and then I'll get onto Bella's story.

---

I woke up Sunday morning to the most interesting message that had been left at Bella's Facebook page. It was from the hu-mom of a dog in Australia named Miles and Miles, it seems looks a LOT like Bella. Acts a lot like her too, from what I can tell.

See, Miles' hu-mom had been writing on a local shelter board to find stable, 'bomb-proof' dogs that would be willing to help Miles get over his fear of dogs when our friend Jet over at jet's furkid palace told her about our Bella.

Miles has dog-reactivity just like Bella does but with a slightly different story. I haven't yet asked permission to share his story here so I'll save that for another day but I wanted to write about one of Bella's recent stories to give Miles' mom some encouragement about what these fearful dogs can do with a little time and a lot of patience.

Hi Miles! Nice to virtually meet you!

---

I've written recently about Bella' shoulder injury that had us traipsing all over town for various treatments and examinations. Back in March, we took her into Boston for the first time to visit noted neurologist, Dr. Allen Sisson at Angell Animal Medical Center. I had never been to Angell before and have to say, I was incredibly impressed.


The place looks like a well-funded big city hospital: big, clean, modern, high-tech. The waiting areas for the animals are spacious and separated: dogs in one area, cats in another, yet a third for birds and exotics. Even better, there were two areas for each!

I, now the master of scoping the world for imminent Bella danger, chose the area to the left of the entrance which was empty and hoped against hope it would remain so until we could get Bella into an examination room.

Nice thought.

We were soon joined by a couple whose beautiful yellow Lab was waiting with them on a gurney. Poor old guy was really sick (although we did see him leave of his own volition later in the day) so I knew he was no threat to Bella. She knew it, too. But they were soon joined by another yellow Lab whose owner was more interested in talking to the sick dog's owners than watching her own.

I knew what was coming and knelt down in front of Bella to get her focus on me and doing our training. "Bella, look." Click. Treat. Good girl. "Bella, down." Click. Treat. Good girl.

I'm doing all this quite loudly and obviously - trying to make a point to the other owners that my dog needs special attention when all of a sudden, I feel the telltale sign of a dog's breath on the back of my neck. Not MY dog, this lady's dog. He's so close to us, I can actually feel him sniffing my hair!

"Bella, look." Click. Treat. Good girl. "Bella, down." Click. Treat. Oh you remarkable girl!

And finally "Can you PLEASE get your dog away from my dog?"

Insert gratuitous picture of pretty dog here.

I am not one for conflict. In fact, I avoid it at all costs. But in my time with Bella I have learned that I am the only advocate she has so I have learned to speak up on her behalf. I'm sure many people have decided I'm just plain rude. Surely this woman with her beautiful, stable, friendly Lab walked away with that impression.

But here's the kicker. This dog, in this strange and stressful place, got within a couple of feet of Bella, with me in between and how did Bella react? With a small, quiet growl. As soon as I spoke up, she stopped, laid down and looked at me.

Oh Bella, you are a remarkable girl.

I was so proud of her.

The folks in the waiting room probably thought we were the most awful people they'd ever met with a dog who didn't deserve to be out in public. But I was over the moon with pride at how my little girl handled herself. Was she happy? No, not really. Was she scared? Yeah, probably some. But did she handle it all without causing a scene? Absolutely. And I couldn't have been prouder.

---

So Miles' mom? I know you're going through some difficult times right now. I'm sure you want to die of embarassment at times, weep in frustration at others. Hang in there, though. You can do this and so can Miles. Patience and practice.

And if you ever need encouragement, stop in here or a few of the other blogs we know who are dealing with similar issues: Life with Desmond, Rescued Insanity, Oh My Dog! and Adventures of a Cattle Dog. We all know the pride and heartbreak of life with a crazy dog (or two or three).

If nothing else, you'll discover you're not alone. Maybe you'll even decide to start your own blog letting us follow Miles' progress. In any case, please drop me a note again someday to let me know how it's going. I have a lot of faith in you, your boy and your dog. You can do this. And I know Miles is worth every frustrating minute of it.

What a difference a drug makes... Pt. 3

When we first met with Dr. Dodman to address Bella's aggression towards Jan, we were most concerned, rather obviously I suppose, with the aggression aspect. But in our dissection and discussions, our researching and reading, our observing and opining and (Oh I'm sorry, are you still reading this? Bella tells me she's gone out for coffee and returned by now.... Moving on...)

My point was, as we started thinking things through, we were able to come up with patterns and identifiers as to when Bella was going to short-ciruit on us. And it was all, drum roll please: fear/anxiety-based.

This isn't a huge revelation, to us or the veterinary/behavioral profession. Most aggression in dogs is fear-based. But while we were focusing on her aggression, we weren't paying attention to the effects fear and anxiety were having on her temperament. The "Fly Incident" made us all re-focus on what was sending Bella over the cliff rather than just focusing on the cliff itself.

And thankfully Dr. Dodman had one more tool in his pharmaceutical toolbox for us: Clonidine.

Clona-who?

We had been giving Bella Clonidine on an 'as needed' basis for thunderstorms since we first started seeing Dr. D. He now recommended we try giving it to her every day to see if it helped with her anxiety. We had a .2 mg Rx for Bella to handle thunderstorms already with the instruction to give 2 - 4 tables up to twice a day. HA! HAHA!

We made the mistake of giving Bella 2 tablets twice in a day during the "Snowtober" storm of 2011 shortly after first getting the prescription from Dr. Dodman. It worked but the second dose worked so well, Bella actually wet the bed while she was sleeping she was so sedated by it. NOT what we were looking for. Poor drugged baby dog.

So this time, after a bit of discussion with Dr. D, we started by giving Bella 1 tablet in the morning and 1 tablet just before going to bed.

Unfortunately, Clonidine only works for about 4 - 6 hours and we found we had a considerable gap in the late afternoon/evening time-frame. We also noticed that giving Bella a whole Clonidine in the morning just left her sleepy (a positive for its continued use in the evenings however).

We needed to balance out the fact that she was sleepy in the morning but still anxious by the evening. We found giving her 1/2 a table with her breakfast, 1/2 a tablet with her dinner and then a whole tablet just before bed seemed to offer us the greatest benefit.

It took a few weeks for her to adjust to it but every week as we took her to agility class, our trainer Carolyn could see more and more improvement. Seeming a little sluggish in the first few weeks Bella was gradually getting back to her spunky self just without all the anxiety attached.

It has turned out to be our miracle drug.

For the first time in her entire life with us, Bella wasn't running from the room at the drop of a pine cone. She wasn't trembling at the sight of trees blowing in the wind. And, finally, it seemed, Bella was going to earn her "Sato ears".

Who are you calling Dumbo?

Satos in general have ridiculously big ears and they tend to either stick out to the side of their heads or straight up. Honestly, I can often identify a Sato from a block away just for their adorable, crazy ears but Bella never had them. Her ears were so often pinned back to her head due to stress and anxiety, I didn't even realize she should have them. I just assumed her ears were supposed to be that way.

Until she started on the Clonidine and her Sato ears began making appearances.

Just occasionally at first but more and more over time. Bella's ears don't always stick straight up, they are floppier like a Labs ears but more and more often I have found them sticking out to the side or popping up in the air. They are so freaking cute.

But what really has me over the moon is that it is not just something we think we're seeing in her behavior that proves she's feeling better. We can actually see in her physical appearance that Bella has moments in life now where she's not scared. That may sound extreme to someone who hasn't lived with a fearful dog and it probably makes us sound oblivious and stupid to not have realized earlier just how much distress she was in. But if all you've ever seen are flat-back ears, how do you even know there's anything different to work towards?

Bella's progress since adding the Clonidine has been extraordinary. She still has some cranky moments but a few weeks ago Jan did something she didn't like (he might have stepped on her foot, I think) and she barked at him. That may seem inappropriate to anyone with a 'normal' dog but it was an enormous step forward for us. I believe dogs have a right to tell us when we're doing something they don't like. And that's exactly what Bella did.

She didn't overreact from living in constant distress with a hair-trigger temper. She barked. I'd have been happy with a growl. She didn't lunge. She didn't bite. She barked. She's learning that she has a voice and it will be respected and listened to. She's beginning to understand she doesn't have to fend for herself and treat every transgression as a life-threatening attack.

She's beginning to trust.

Without medications, I don't think we would have ever been able to bring Bella to this point. We would never have gotten her "below threshold" so we could teach her more appropriate ways to react, improve her confidence and see those Sato ears. We are still figuring so much out about her and she is still growing by leaps and bounds to our utter amazement. I will never trust her to be alone with a child, that's a given, but I am so proud of how far she has come.

I'm sure there are people who think medicating dogs for fear and anxiety is a cop-out, a quick-fix in a world that seems too dependent on instant gratification and simple solutions. I believe I waited too long to help Bella because I was worried about exactly that: worried I was seeking easy answers to complex problems. I can tell you this, none of this has been simple. And after a year and half of working with behaviorists, trainers and vets, it has certainly not been a quick fix. But it has been a life-saver.

Bella will never be a social, out-going dog. But last week we took her to a major city animal hospital and she survived both the waiting room and being handled by any number of staff with, if not aplomb, at least a modicum of dignity. She is a smart, sweet dog who just needed a little patience and understanding to bring out the best in her and we are thrilled at her progress.

We have experienced any number of milestones in the last year with her that I hope to relay in future posts. Bella's story is a long way from over but I hope you've enjoyed reading about her journey thus far. I know I'm looking forward to seeing what she's going to do next.

What a difference a drug makes... Pt. 2

Hi all, sorry about last week's cliff hanger. I hadn't meant to do that but our crazy dog has come such a long way since I started telling you her story that I didn't want to short-change the best part. Hence, this 3-parter.

But enough of that, let's get right to part 2, or what I like to call "The Curious Incident of the Fly in the Night-time" (With all due respect and admiration to Mark Haddon).

---

Folks who follow us on Facebook may remember last April we began having trouble with these horrible, ugly flies that sometimes appear out of nowhere. They are officially called "Cluster Flies" and I now know more about these horrid little beasts than I ever cared to. They are harmless, if gross and disgusting, but they buzz. Loudly. And a lot.

Back during our very first visit with Dr. Dodman in the Fall of 2011, he had recognized, and diagnosed, Bella with "insect phobia". I didn't even know that was a thing. Apparently it is and Bella has it.

So we knew this but hadn't thought much of it for a while since here in New England there's generally a distinct dearth of insect activity during the winter months.

But when we brought Bella back to see Dr. D after Bella bit Jan again in February 2012, we were talking about her increased anxiety and the subject of insects came up again. In fact, while we were discussing Bella's fear of all things buzz-worthy, Dr. Dodman made a 'Bzzzt' noise in his office and Bella almost lost it.

Seriously, you could see her immediately react to the noise: running to us, cowering and shaking and trying to escape. It took several minutes for her to get over a sound that lasted less than a second. We talked about drugs that would specifically address noise phobias but had decided, since we were already looking to increase the dose of Prosac she was receiving, we'd start with that and see what happened.

And so, as I left you last week, we were able to get Bella to the higher dose of Prosac easily enough, she showed no negative side effects. But it was slowly becoming clear to us that, while the Prosac was helping with her aggression towards Jan, it wasn't relieving Bella of the constant stress and anxiety she suffered from noise phobias and insects.

This became strikingly obvious to us, not to mention our Facebook followers, last April when Bella started having trouble sleeping thanks to those horrid little aforementioned flies.

April 16, 2012

"Oh yay, it's time for another exciting episode of 'Let's figure out what scared the dog out of the bedroom so we can get her back in here and go to sleep.' Maybe we can just bribe her with some chicken......?

Oh darn, it's a fly. It's going to be a long night." Bringing up Bella on Facebook, 4/16/2012

We figured it out and Jan and I chased, swatted and vacuumed flies out of the bedroom for a few weeks in April.

But it became a nightly occurrence and finally, I couldn't stand seeing Bella so distressed all the time and on May 5th, I sent Dr. Dodman a link to a video of Bella completely melting down over 'something' in our bedroom. That something turned out to be a fly but it took us two days to find it because it was hidden in a closet 30 feet away. In the meantime, that left me and Bella sleeping in the basement because she simply would not come in the bedroom at night.

Our poor pumpkin.

Our poor me.

For the purposes of discussion of 'phobias', I want to share an event that occurred around the same time during which Bella behaved decidedly different.

Last May, we were wakened in the middle of the night to the sound of Bella barking ferociously at the door of our bedroom that leads out to our backyard. Most of you probably don't know that, while we live in fairly well-populated town, our house is surrounded by woods and we get more than a few wild visitors traipsing through the yard on a regular basis.

Last year, however, something happened in my neighborhood that never has never happened before: we were visited by a Mamma Black bear and her fairly well-grown cub.

We didn't know that the night Bella went all Cujo on us barking and lunging at the door. We found out about it the next night when my neighbor called us at midnight to warn us not to let Bella out as there were two bears sitting in their backyard munching away at their bird feeders. Oh. Well, that explains why Bella had jumped off the bed just prior to the call and threw herself at the door growling and snarling again. Nice to know. Thanks.

This never happens to us, honestly. By wildlife in the backyard, I'm usually talking about deer and raccoon.

But it really struck me as such a different reaction to Bella's response to the flies that I thought it bore mentioning.

What makes a dog willing to take on a bear but cower in fear at the sound of a fly?

Granted, Bella had a pretty bad experience with bees when we first brought her home to live with us but I think it is far more likely that her fear of the buzzing sounds is instinct. All indications point to Bella being born of a stray of a stray of a stray in Puerto Rico, a tropical island paradise (for people). It would have been in her best interest to learn to avoid things that buzz. Flies, bees and other insects can wreak as much harm on a small puppy as just about any other predator Bella would have learned to be wary of.

So I'm not sure: is this a phobia, "an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something"? Or is Bella just really smart? Smart enough to keep herself alive when all she had to depend on were her instincts? Are her genes responsible for what she has come to believe of the world? And do they really still play such a big part in her life that the 5 years she has spent protected in our home matter little in her mind?

You're talking about me again, aren't you?

Regardless of the answer to the nature vs. nurture debate, and personally I believe it's both, we needed to find a way to help Bella survive comfortably in our home. And next week we will do just that covering Dr. Dodman's recommendation of adding Clonidine to our pup's chemical cocktail and the effects it has had on the little wunder-dog's life. Stick with us.

As always, thanks for following the story of the crazy dog.

What a difference a drug makes.... Part 1

Hi everybody. Sorry about the unexpected hiatus - things here at Casa de Bella have been a little nutso. But I did want to finally finish up talking about Bella's experience with medications and our efforts with her at behavior modification. So here we are again.

The next few posts are going to cover a fair amount of chronological time but only 3 major events that changed, and significantly improved, Bella's quality of life (after it had become almost inconceivably mucked up.) This first part is about the realization that we hadn't quite gotten this whole Bella thing figured out just yet.

Part 1 - Bella bites Jan - again

I do love you, Daddy, I really do.
I'd love you even more if you gave me that chip.

We first put Bella on medications to ease her anxiety under the direction of Dr. Dodman in September of 2011. We had some ups and downs with the dosages through that fall and finally decided to keep Bella on a lower-than-recommended dose of Prosac. She became a member of the living dead whenever we tried to get her up to 30 mgs/day - the lowest recommended dosage for a dog her size. (Sensitive dog is sensitive.)

We had also changed her food to reduce her intake of protein and increased the amount of physical exercise and mental stimulation she was getting.

Bella had been doing very well with all the changes and her relationship with Jan was much improved. However, during the holidays that first year on the meds, her stress level began increasing culminating with a blow-out in agility class with Willy. Her cranky intolerance of any faux pas Jan made was also on the rise and finally came to a head with a very serious altercation in February 2012.

(Honestly, my husband is the most patient man on the planet and I love him dearly for putting up with this crap.)

---

Bella's relationship with each of us as individuals is complicated. Believe it or not, Bella sees Jan as her protector, seeking him out in times of distress. The problem is she sees herself as mine.

But it's really a little more complicated than that because I'm no shrinking violet whose dog thinks she can walk all over her. But for some reason, every now and then, Bella's fear of losing her most valued resource, that which she associates with getting her out of the shelter and into a home (me), takes over and she flips out.

Bella doesn't really have separation anxiety but this quote by Dr. Dodman describes what's going on with her perfectly:

"A recent study suggests that dogs suffering from separation anxiety are the pessimists of the canine world who always expect the worst in any situation. In the case of separation anxiety, their worst fear is presumably that their owners have gone, never to return." Source - Veterinary Practice News

In our case, I believe Bella's worst fear is that something will happen to me. So Bella lashes out at the presumed threat: Jan. It sucks but it is "understandable".

By that I don't mean it's excusable, I mean it's literally "understandable": we can understand the reasons for her overreaction. And if we can understand them, we can change them.

(Click to embiggen.)

In this case, we identified the following contributing circumstances:

• We hadn't quite gotten the right combination or dosage of the drugs yet,
• Bella's anxiety was ratcheting up again as she acclimated to the meds and our own stress levels rose over the holidays,
• It was winter and Bella wasn't getting as much as exercise as she had been through the fall,
• She had just suffered the altercation with her agility classmate, Willy, making her nervous and hyper-vigilant and finally
• When she lives under constant stress and nervousness, Bella's "trigger" point is much lower.

But while we may have understood all this, we had no idea what to do about it. So off we went back to Dr. Dodman.

His first line of advice was to see if we could get Bella back up to the higher level of Prosac (Fluoxetine). We were much more successful getting her up to the 30 mg a day this time around. She hadn't turned into a zombie, she maintained her appetite and her enthusiasm and everything was looking up.

But then we noticed something else: the increased dose didn't zombie-fy her but it didn't seem to be doing much of anything at all. She was still fleeing the room at every tick and tock and every drop of a pine cone on the roof. And not just fleeing but fleeing and trembling and cowering in fear.

Bella was doing very well with Jan. In fact they spent a week alone together while I was traveling for work which seemed to further solidify their budding relationship. But we still weren't confident another outburst wasn't waiting in the wings. Her anxiety remained at epic levels and, even if she never reacted badly again, we knew her quality of life was suffering due to her continuing to live in constant fear - of life.

---

Not a happy state for our little heroine but don't give up on her just yet. We'll be back next week with the second part of this, the final chapter in Bella's redemptive arc.

And here's just a silly picture of my little wack-a-doodle to remind you she's actually a good girl.

Two steps forward, one step back

Lest you think life with Bella has been all unicorns and rainbows since we started her on the 5-pronged approach recommended by Dr. Dodman including medications and her Agility for Reactive Dogs class in the Fall of 2011, life just never really seems to go in a particularly straight line.

Even while we were making progress training Bella over the various agility obstacles, and she was taking her prescribed medications, eating a low(er) protein diet and getting as much exercise as we could work into our schedule, in January/February 2012, Bella started showing signs of increased anxiety at home again. She began darting from the room at the slightest sound, not sleeping through the night and becoming even more frantic about storms and unexpected events.

What? Me, worry?

Things came to a head in February culminating in 2 events that made us realize not all was well in the state of Bella:

• First, Bella and Jan had another scuffle in February. I called Dr. D.s' office immediately but it would be April before we could get back in to see him for a follow-up.


• Then, a week or so later, we learned how quickly things can turn south in a classroom full of reactive dogs.

In the early days of class, our trainer, Carolyn, would have us walk the dogs around the room in a parade route fashion - each dog staying appropriately distanced behind the next to keep them under threshold. The idea was for the person following to be responsible for maintaining the distance behind the dog in front. But sometimes the dogs have other ideas.

Bella had been toodling right along in class for a couple of months when one night, while she was stalled admiring the alluring aroma of classmate Elmo's mat, classmate Willie decided to trot his way over the dog walk heading straight towards Bella at a pretty good and noisy clip. I, sadly without eyes in the back of my head, was watching Elmo in front of us and missed the signals Bella was most certainly sending me before she blew up like a mad dog in Willie's direction behind me. Hrumph.

Landing solidly on one of my knees and following that with my face, the best I could do was hold on (and pray I hadn't just broken my knee). Bella continued to lunge and growl at the end of the leash and Willie gave his owner a good tussle mimicking Bella's behavior back at her. It took a moment for everyone to realize I wasn't able to get up and suddenly Jan and Carolyn sprang between the dogs - Jan getting Bella back under control and Carolyn helping Willie's owner handle him and herd him back to his mat.

Sweet little Elmo remained rather oblivious to the whole encounter as he was now on the opposite side of the room.

Still not quite calm but getting better.

The trick that salvaged this situation was the the double leashes we use on the dogs in class and Carolyn's requirement that we wrap the loop end of both around our wrists. In my case, I often push the loop up over my elbow since my hands are small and I worry that the loops will slip over and out of my hand.

That practice may have sent me sprawling but it saved Bella from breaking free of my grasp and getting to Willie which would have been a disaster. (Willie had previously been attacked by another dog IN a training class. No wonder the poor guy has reactivity issues.)

The mark of a good teacher, in my mind, is the ability to read a situation, understand the needs and motivations of her students and change her teaching methods if and when they're not working for any individual. Carolyn is a very good teacher. And she has made several modifications to her approach in teaching us and helping our dogs over the life of our class.

After Bella's little outburst, Carolyn stopped having us walk around together in a circle and had us all line up along the same wall. Baby gates and sheets separating the dogs so they couldn't see each other at all except during controlled warm-up periods. Over time, as the dogs got better at that, we started working them on some of the obstacles during the warm-up sessions, first one dog at a time, then two and finally the whole class working together at the same time.

Bonding over treats and training.

So while we waited to get in to see Dr. D and get his recommendations for Bella's continuing anxiety, it was a great relief to be able to rely on Carolyn's experience and advice on how to keep working on Bella's reactivity and improve her relationship with Jan through the classes.

Jan and I learned we need to take turns as Bella's handler each week. Improving Jan's relationship with her is our highest priority but at the same time, we can't have mine suffer as a result. We could end up having the same problem but just reversing to whom it's directed. Everyone has a role to play in helping Bella heal and we each have to be a part of the solution if this is going to work.

Thank you, daddy, for teaching me.

Jan and Bella's relationship has improved over time and with a great deal of effort and patience. I am fortunate to have married the most amazing man in the world, one who clearly never gives up on those he loves. Bella surely is one lucky girl.

Agility for Reactive Dogs...

...and their spectacularly coordinated humans. (Uh, that would not be us, by the way.)

It's been a while since we've talked about the goings-on in Bella's life. But we are back and ready to talk about one of the most exciting and helpful activities we've undertaken in all our time with Bella.

October 12, 2011.

A day that changed Bella's life. The day we attended her first "Agility for Reactive Dogs" class at the "Dogs' Learning Center" located right here in our own hometown.

Having a forward-thinking, innovative training center not more than a few miles away from our house has been an incredible boon in our life with Bella.

Having access to a Karen Pryor Academy Certified Training Partner (KPA CTP) and Faculty Instructor with years of experience in agility as well as reactive dogs has been an absolute god-send.

Having two left-feet has been... Well, okay, yeah, that, not so much.

A note that came from our soon-to-be trainer, Carolyn, about our first class should have sent red flags a-fluttering and Robot arms a-flailing ("Danger Will Robinson!"):

Class will be run as a reactive class. Bring a mat for relaxed downs. We will gate/sheet as needed, use distance, etc.

Dogs should be on a head collar or front clip harness and another piece of equipment such as a martingale collar. With 2 leads or a lead clipped to both.

Bring lots! of small treats, clickers, mats, water/bowl.

Feels a little like this.

So just in case you didn't catch that, that's one dog, two leashes, a clicker and treats.

And we're going to take all of that and try to teach our reactive, scared-y dog to manage all the obstacles around an agility course while other reactive dogs try to behave themselves nearby?

Alright-y then.

In the year+ that we have been doing this, I am proud to say Bella has only sent me into face-plant territory once. We have, however, knocked over jump poles, gotten tangled in the weaves and tripped over each other with fair frequency.

And by "we", I mean me. The dog is fine, it's her owner who can't walk in a straight line.

(As for the other half of the human equation, let's just say that while Jan is considerably more coordinated than I, that's hardly setting a high bar.)

Reactive dog class basics.

Let's talk about some of the very most fundamental basics of reactive dog classes. I'm going to assume most of my readers have never attended a reactive dogs class or an agility class so please don't be offended if you already know all about this stuff.

A prerequisite for the "Agility for Reactive Dogs" class is that everyone must have attended a beginner class for reactive dog handling. We had and while we found out later that much of what we thought we learned in that beginner class was not quite right, it left us familiar at least with the terminology, the setting and how to enter and exit the building.

And the very first thing you learn in a beginner reactive dogs class is that reactive dogs class begins before you're even in the class. Because it's not like you can just go strolling into the building like you have a normal dog or something.

Negotiating the parking lot.

Nervously watching another dog on the dog walk.

Bella still has issues when she sees dogs while she's in the car, so we always park as far from the entrance to the building as possible. This is in an attempt to keep her "under threshold" as she watches people and pets come and go.

But basically there is no point at which Bella is not in full-blown panic mode about other dogs while she is in the car so we try to get her out of it as soon as possible when we arrive. If she's out of the car, her reactivity is less and she has something else distracting to do (sniff, pee, sniff, pee, sniff, pee and sniff some more...)

But the deal is - from the moment we arrive in the parking lot until we're driving home after class, every time Bella sees a dog and doesn't react like a snarling lunatic, she gets a treat.

Getting in the building.

Yup, there's a process for that. We wait outside while the class before us ends and the owners get their reactive dogs back in their cars and then we are called in. One dog at a time.

Again, class is already in session even when you're just entering the building. See a dog? Click, treat. Walking nicely? Click, treat. Go ballistic? Divert and distract. (We'll explain that in subsequent posts.)

Getting settled.

With reactive dogs, we use mats/towels to give the dog a place to associate as their home base, their "safe space". So while we're getting settled and stuff unpacked, Bella is asked to 'go to her mat' and is rewarded for sitting quietly. Lots of clicks and treats. If she can relax to the point of resting on one hip, she gets lots and lots of treats.

The atmosphere in the room is one of calm. Everyone speaks just loudly enough to be heard. And we all try very hard to get in and the dogs settled as quickly as possible without appearing rushed or getting the dogs too excited.

What's in it for me?

Not all dogs in a reactive dogs class have the same level of fear or a fear of the same things. Bella's pervasive fear of everything "unknown" meant we had to first get her to associate going to class as a good thing before we could ever address her fear of other dogs or the agility obstacles.

In the earliest days of class, we just stuffed Bella full of treats throughout the entire class. As long as she wasn't wigging out, she got treats. But to turn fear into enthusiasm, those had to be some mighty tasty treats.

In fact, the treats have to be something that the dog values more than she fears 'the big scary'.

We've tried everything from hot dogs to chicken to cheese and just about every training treat on the market. We've finally settled on Red Barn Naturals food roll that we chop into pea-sized pieces. They're soft and moist, which we find means they don't get stuck in Bella's throat quite as much as dry treats, and they're slightly less slimy than some of the other food logs we have tried.

(We do have another trick up our sleeve of an even more highly valued treat but we didn't need/learn about that until later in the course... Stick with me, we'll get there.)

With so much good food and all the attention she could ever desire, Bella was sold on class after the very first night. That she got to learn and jump was just a bonus. In fact, as time went on we had to work to calm her down, she was so excited to be going to class. Good grief. "If it's not one thing, it's another..."

---

So that's the (very) basics of the reactive dog part of our class. I'll talk more about the agility part of class next time.

I really struggled to write this post because I can come at the subject of this class from so many different angles - the reactive dog, the fearful dog, clicker training, agility training or even the role medication has played. If there's any aspect of it you'd like to hear more about, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments.

Understanding that I'm not a trainer and addressing fearful, reactive or aggressive dogs is way above my pay grade, I will share with you what we've learned and offer lots of Bella stories along the way. This class has probably been the most influential activity we have pursued for Bella's mental health and the rewards have been absolutely inspiring. I hope you'll find our journey interesting as well.

---

Thresholds and medications, oh my!

Some recent comments and conversations have questioned why we went the route of medication with Bella.

We've had Bella for a little over 4 years now and during that time we've become all too familiar with the the language of fearful dogs. But before I had a scared-y dog, I didn't even know there were such creatures - never mind that they had their own language.

As a result, I tend to find myself writing from my current place of reference. And I can forget that some of my readers may not be familiar with the terms one learns when living with fearful dogs. Most are likely living with nice, normal dogs at home.

So here's a word I throw around like everyone knows what it is: threshold.

What is a 'threshold' when we're talking about scared-y dogs? Threshold is the point at which a scared-y dog becomes scared.

Why does it matter?

Because you can't train a dog until you can get their attention. And you can't get their attention if they are over threshold - when a dog is past the point where they are so afraid for their own safety that they can't focus on letting you teach them better coping skills.

The goal then is to approach every situation so that the dog remains within their comfort zone, not pushed past it. Keep them at a place where they are still able to concentrate, they'll still take a treat, they're still able to hear you and focus on you.

I've been in situations with Bella where I know none of that is possible. She does not hear me. She does not see me. She won't take a treat from my hand if I stuff it in her mouth. She is in a zone that I cannot penetrate.

That's over threshold.

The reason I'm bringing this up now is that, as we worked with Dr. Dodman and Bella's medications, we began to realize that Bella had never really been under threshold. Pretty much ever.

She lived her life in such a constant state of fear, hyper-awareness and hyper-vigilance that she could be resting on the couch but a pine cone dropping on the roof would send her skittering for safety. I couldn't get her to come back. I couldn't get her attention. I couldn't get her to stop running out of the room.

In her own home.

Her reactions to people were much the same. No one has been able to pet Bella except me, Jan and my mother. No one. In 4 years. Not her trainers, not her vets, not our neighbors whose dog she played with every day.

Because when Bella is that close to people, she is so far over threshold that we can't even teach her to 'say hi'. And if we can't get her under threshold when she is in the presence of other people, we can't teach her that people are not something to be feared.

So the answer to why we chose to use medication on Bella is to help her to get below threshold, at least for ordinary, every day living. It gives us the opportunity to teach her, to reach her and develop appropriate reactions to non-threatening situations. We still have to work to keep her under threshold during scary events such as meeting people and other dogs. The medication isn't a substitute for hard work, it's an aid.

---

When we embarked on the journey of medicating Bella it wasn't without thought. It wasn't without trying every other avenue available to us first. The use of prescription medications was an informed, considered decision. We hoped that the potential side effects were worth the risk and would avert our other, less favorable, options.

This post may be borne from a place of defensiveness and I apologize for that. If you don't know Bella's entire story, it'd be easy to think we bypassed the more holistic steps that could have helped heal her wounds and jumped right to the part that makes our life easier. I assure you, we didn't.

As amateur gardeners and cooks, Jan and I try to live in harmony with the earth and maintain a holistic life-style. We believe it is always best to try the least invasive, least damaging, least dangerous approach to resolving any challenge. If we all did that, our earth and our health would be better for it. But sometimes, you have to draw a line over what could be lost if you don't put up your best fight.

Bella is not merely a somewhat nervous dog. She's not just a difficult dog that we use medication on in order to make our life with her easier. She is a dog who can be aggressive in her fear and we don't want to lose her as a result. Her life is what we are fighting for.

What have we done?

"One thing that has me particularly concerned is (Bella) shows no interest in playing with me any more - in fact, she has little interest in me at all now. We used to play chase and ball a few times a day. She hasn't accepted a play invitation from me in over a week. On the bright side, she's not barking at every falling leaf in the yard but she's not barking at anything at all. She's not showing interest in going outside or chasing anything when she is outside.

I expected us to work with her to learn to control her chase/prey instincts but we haven't - this is just a reaction, I believe, to the meds. I wanted to be able to focus her so we could teach her some more appropriate behaviors but it seems she's a completely different dog. To some that may sound great but she wasn't a bad dog before, she just had too much stress. She seems to have lost her joie de vivre, her spunk (spirit) and her enthusiasm for anything that used to mean something to her.

To be honest, I feel like I've lost my dog."

-- Email to Dr. Dodman, Tufts Small Animal Hospital, 9/23/2011

---

Last week, I was telling you about Bella's bad reaction to being "left" at my mom's house for a mini-vacation. Just over a week after that event, I wrote the above email to Dr. Dodman.

Jan and I had been talking about Bella's change of demeanor but were also trying to remain upbeat and optimistic about it. "Could just be temporary..." "Maybe there's an adjustment period?" "Let's see how she does tomorrow..."

Comments in her diary leading up to this email show an increase in anxious behaviors (not sleeping through the night, wanting to go to her 'safe space' in the basement, not eating...) but the final straw that brought me to tears one night was that she no longer had any interest in play and I honestly felt that I had "lost" my Bella.

The Bella that, while always fearful, still had such an insatiable curiosity of life. When Bella isn't fearful, she's a wonder. She inquisitive, enthusiastic, eager and willing to try whatever I throw at her. She's a bit of a skeptic but once she's over her misgivings, she faces life with an incredible zest.

Three weeks on this new medication and she just seemed so disinterested in everything.

I don't feel so good...

We had been warned, we had thought this through, we'd talked about "revealing" her "true" personality. But this wasn't it. Everything I knew and trusted inside me said this was wrong.

Luckily, Dr. Dodman is a true professional. He wasn't so hung up on being right that he dismissed our concerns. He heard me and he believed me and he trusted that I knew my dog better than anyone else ever would. And he offered me hope.

My biggest fear in watching Bella's changing demeanor was that we wouldn't be able to get her back. I never wanted to change "her", I just wanted to change her behavior towards Jan - and even then only in some very limited, albeit terrifying, situations.

Dr. Dodman immediately recommended we take Bella off the Fluoxetine for a week and start her at a lower dose after that. I can't begin to tell you how relieved the following email made me feel:

"HI Leslie, I think what you said is right. Let's skip the next couple of doses of fluoxetine and then restart at 20mg per day - instead of 30 - when she is back to normal. We may need to go back up to 30 at some time but Bella seems very sensitive to side effects so we will have to go slowly. Nick Dodman"

(I don't know if I need a legal disclaimer for that or not but please don't have me arrested, okay? :)

---

Much to my relief, Bella's sparkling, if sometimes snarky, personality came breaking back through the haze after only a couple of days. It's very good to know that while we tinker with her doses, we're not doing any lasting damage to her personality. It has made us much more willing to make adjustments and give things time to work.

And, as Dr. Dodman noted, we have discovered Bella to be extremely sensitive to medications and have been quite conscientious in our management as a result.

We have yet to get her up to the recommended dose of Fluoxetine and other meds we've pursued have been administered rather conservatively. But having a behaviorist who listened to us, who trusted us and who was willing to work with us, gave us the confidence to continue our pursuit in trying to help Bella.

And time has borne out that approach. Stick with me over the coming months and you'll see what a little patience and a lot of perseverance can do to heal a damaged dog.

Jan and Leslie's Abbreviated Vacation

I mentioned previously that Jan and I hadn't been on a 'real' vacation in 7 years. That is true. We have, however, snuck away for a few 3-day weekends on occassion and were scheduled to do just that shortly after putting Bella on the new meds prescribed by Dr. Dodman.

The plan was to drop Bella off with my mom on Friday morning and pick her up again Monday.

My mom and I look very, very, VERY much alike. I'm not sure if this is the reason my mom is the only person besides me and Jan who can reliably pet Bella or not but it doesn't seem an unreasonable assumption. Bella has stayed with Mom before and everything went swimmingly. It never occured to me Bella wouldn't view this visit as her own little vacation stay at "Club Nana's".

But when Bella's not feeling good, it seems she really just wants her mom and dad.

During the first week we had Bella on the new medications, she had ups and downs in her demeanor and appetite. She'd have a good day where she seemed very much like herself but it would be followed by 2 days of begging her to eat her food.

But she seemed fine to me when I brought her down to my mom's - she even wailed in excitement when we pulled in the drive knowing Nana's always means a good time for Bella.

Then something strange happened when I left her in the house for a few minutes to get her stuff out of the car. She started to whine. And pace. And when I came back in, Bella acted like she thought I was never. coming. back. Portents of things to come?

Indeed.

I finally got Bella settled in with mom and Jan and I headed off on our mini vacation.

We spent Friday and most of Saturday in ignorant bliss. We got in too late Friday night and left too early Saturday to call Mom to see how they were making out. But I had left my cell phone # with her and knew if she ran into any trouble, she would call us.

Except I didn't count on the fact that we were up in Sticksville, Vermont and my phone wasn't getting a reliable signal. We had no way of knowing Mom had been trying to reach me since early Saturday morning. Uh oh.

Saturday night I made the phone call and found a frantic mother on the other end of the line. Bella wouldn't eat. She wouldn't settle down. She was whimpering some, pacing a lot. She would sit for a minute and then be up pacing again.

And since she wouldn't eat, Mom couldn't get her to take her medicine. She even tried to entice Bella by putting the meds in a little milk and corn flakes. (Because, you know, what dog doesn't love milk and corn flakes, right? Huh? Yeah, no idea where she came up with that one.)

Mom had tried every trick she could think of plus some I had given her. Nothing. This dog was just not going to take her medicine. Until I asked Mom to put the phone near Bella's ear.

I kid you not, the second this dog heard my voice over the phone, she laid down. Mom offered her the milk and corn flakes again and Bella began sipping it. Mission accomplished.

Until Sunday.

We got another call from Mom on Sunday morning and decided we would pick Bella up Sunday night instead of Monday if only to give my poor dear mother a break.

Bella was overjoyed to see us but on the ride home, even though she was with us now, she just would not settle down. We use a barrier in the car to keep her in the back seat but she kept trying to get up front with us, pacing and whining over the separation. Jan finally got in the back seat with her and held her for the rest of the ride home.

Oh little dog, what have we done?

To be continued....

So, where was I?

To those of you who may have noticed, sorry for the unplanned/unexplained hiatus. Things have been a little crazy in Bella's hu-mom's life as of late. But I'm not even sure that's the real reason I disappeared from writing for a couple of weeks. I think the reason I disappeared is...

I'm not really sure how to proceed?

When last we spoke, I had finished telling you all about our visit with Dr. Dodman at Tufts University's Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine Animal Behavior Clinic and the track we were going to take to try and heal Bella. We were making changes to her diet, her exercise routine and our communication with her.

The continuing pieces of the puzzle would be Bella's Agility for Reactive Dogs classes and the medications prescribed for her. I want to tell you about both but haven't yet figured out the tack I want to take to do so. Do I approach this chronologically, inter-mingling both as they arise in the timeline? Or perhaps it makes more sense to tell stories about each one separately?

I think I'm going to take a combined approach picking up chronologically from where we left off interspersing stories from her reaction to the meds in with her reactions to the agility class.

The blog is still running about 1 year behind 'current life' and I'm anxious to catch up with real life soon but I don't want to short-change these stories in my attempt to get to "today".

Part of me is very sensitive to losing sight of those stories in my memory though, and I feel at times like I'm living a dual life - the one we lived a year ago and the one we live today. (Admittedly, I've got to get better at keeping a journal for Bella than I am but that's why I started the blog in the first place...)

So anyway...

That's been my dilemma for a few weeks. Crazy days at the office, little time after work for sorting all this out and an unpredictable Mother Nature throwing everything into a blender just to add to the delight.

But in an effort to get things started, and force my muse to finally make an appearance again, tonight I'm just going to share a few details of what Bella's life was like a little over a year ago.

Bella began her medications on September 2, 2011:

Soloxine - 0.4 mg 2x/day (for thyroid)
Fluoxetine - 10 mg in AM and 20 mg in PM (for anxiety/aggression)
Clonidine - 2 to 4 0.2 mg tablets as needed up to 2x/day (thunderstorms and anxiety) ***

Bella's first week on the meds made for an inauspicious start: she was completely exhausted from the visit with Dr. Dodman, snarked at Gus when we took her to visit him and Molly at the dog park, got sprayed by a skunk and had to deal with thunderstorms. It's no wonder I remark in my notes that she seems "a little dejected".

And it went downhill from there. Yay us.

I mentioned in my first post about medication that meds are not a magic pill. And life with Bella after starting them has not been a straight line of progress. I'm glad I kept a daily journal so I could refer back to exactly what we were seeing with her when. I referred to it often in my follow up conversations with Dr. Dodman. The last year has been filled with ups and downs and sometimes we've just shrugged and decided we have no idea what drives her.

I've made adjustments in my expectations and desires for her:

• She doesn't have to be social, she just has to survive a visit to the vet without causing World War III in the waiting room.
• She's never really going to 'do agility' but she has so much fun running around the ring and the obstacles when there are no other dogs around that we will continue to take the class.
• And she's never going to be a therapy dog but she can survive family get-togethers.

She's still a wonderful, sweet and playful little dog who charms everyone she meets. So long as they don't try to pet her. ;)

I promise, next week will be more interesting...

*** I should note, as this will be important in her future, we gave Bella 2 Clonidine pills on 9/4 to deal with the thunderstorms and I noted in her journal: "Bella slept very soundly last night. Lots of dreams, didn't wake even when I put my hand on her chest to make sure she was breathing. Not like her."

Do I LOOK playful?

---

A question to the writers among us - have you ever gotten so completed muddled in what you wanted to say that you couldn't say anything at all? If so, how did you manage to break free of it and what helped you do so?

---

Better living through pharmaceuticals

Alternate titles considered for this post: Mother's Little Helper, Purple Haze, White Rabbit...

Now lest I totally date myself here, let me also add: Comfortably Numb, Dr. Feelgood and The Dope Show...  (That last one is kind of R-rated. Just sayin'...)

---

And so, we've come to the fifth spoke in our wheel: medication. This, along with Bella's Agility for Reactive Dogs class, is an ongoing story so this post will be brief (promises, promises!) but I'll be going into more details about how the drugs affected Bella, and what we did to accommodate and address various issues we ran into along the way for probably as long as she and the blog survive.

I had begun talking to a friend in one of the rescues I volunteer with about medication for dogs in May 2011. Actually, she started talking to me.

Her dog, much like Bella was an anxious and fearful dog and she had placed him on a low dose of Prosac about two years earlier. She was very empathetic to what we were going through and a real advocate for medication as a means to help our dogs cope.

It still took us 4 months and a bite before we set up an appointment to talk to a doctor about prescribing medication for Bella.

When mulling over the points I wanted to make in this post, two came to instantly to mind:

1. We shouldn't be so resistant to medications that are proven to help dogs who are otherwise suffering in fear, and
2. Medications are not a quick fix or magic pill.

I think point 2 plays in to the resistance referenced in point 1. It's easy to think yourself a failure if you 'resort' to medicating your dog. We didn't try hard enough, we didn't do it right, someone else would have been a better pet parent, we're taking the easy way out...

Well, let me tell anyone who is considering putting their dog on medication to help manage their fear and anxiety - it ain't easy. Jan and I have never so carefully evaluated Bella's every mood and manner. We keep a journal that tracks her meds, her food intake, her behavior and her temperament. Is she withdrawn? Lethargic? Is she eating? What do her stools look like? How much water is she drinking?

If this is a magic pill, someone forgot to add the magic.

Our goal in using medications with Bella was to simply get her "under threshold" long enough that we could begin to teach her other coping mechanisms. Dr. Dodman suggested we start Bella on a low-dose of Prosac (fluoxetine) for the aggression issues, soloxine for her hypothyroidism and clonidine to help her cope with thunderstorms.

Fluoxetine (Prosac) elevates the serotonin levels in the brain and can help reduce anxiety. Bella would start at 30 mg/day, 10 mg in the morning and 20 mg at night since serotonin levels drop in the evening. 

Soloxine is the drug we put her on for the sub-clinical hypothyroidism. It's a simple thyroid replacement medication. The benefit is that in controlling her hypothyroidism, to some degree her aggression is also controlled.

Clonidine acts to counter the flight or flight response. It's especially effective for managing thunderstorm phobia, fear aggression and separation anxiety.

We've had our ups and downs.

We've adjusted the medications Bella's taking and how often, four times in the year she's been on them. And we've adjusted the doses even more than that. She has at times broken my heart in fear that I'd lost my plucky, ebullient little girl and made me weep with joy the day she initiated play with me again for the first time in ages.

If I could offer a bit of encouragement to anyone considering medications as an option for their dog, I'd like it to be this bit of wisdom from Bella's first trainer, Sheila:

One day while discussing my concerns that medications might change my Bella's personality, that I was worried the meds would 'change' her, Sheila, dog bless her, told me, "If Bella's brain chemistry is out of balance and the medications bring that back into balance, then the meds won't be changing her personality, they'll be revealing it. The real Bella will emerge."

And so Bella's story continues...

Her 'real self' has indeed finally emerged and she is still just as sweet and adorable as she always was. I'll be sharing lots of details and stories about her agility class and our journey with medications as her story progresses. I hope you'll stick with us. We're finally out of the heavy stuff and on the road to recovery. This is where it gets good.

---

If I have been neglectful in thanking and praising the resources we have had working with us to help Bella, I apologize because we have no doubt had some of the best. From our vets to our trainers to Dr. Dodman and his staff, we have never lacked for empathy, kindness and consideration of Bella's situation. Every day when I see her act with more confidence, behave more like a 'normal' dog, when I see the stress and anxiety disappear little by little, I am thankful for the good work these folks in animal care do and give to us.

And I am grateful to our readers for not writing off the crazy dog at the first mention of teeth. Bella is a good dog. Yes, she has her issues and there have been times we've wondered if we really could 'fix' her but she is a sweet and playful soul who has been worth every moment of the effort and expense put in to helping her. I hope this series gives some hope to others who find themselves in similar situations. It is not an easy road but, with patience and perseverence, it is passable. Hang in there.

Peace.

---

Communication Breakdown

Jan and I were married in St. Kitts September 23, 2004. It was a beautiful, private ceremony held in the gardens of Romney Manor.

The photographer of our wedding bestowed a few words of wisdom on us regarding how to have and keep a healthy marriage. His words have stayed with me ever since. He told us to "talk to each other."

Both Jan and I nodded having, we thought, heard this advice time and again - yes, we need to communicate. But the photographer pressed that, in fact, we hadn't. He clarified:

"I don't mean communicate, I mean talk to each other. We communicate with everyone all the time - our eyes, our faces, our bodies communicate. You need to talk to each other. Talking is different. It removes the potential confusion and misunderstanding we communicate to each other when we don't talk."

Obviously, dogs can't talk.

They don't have the benefit of our wordy explanations regarding why we need them to do something, why something they're doing is wrong and why, as much as we'd like to stay, we have to go to work in the morning. But just like us, they do communicate. And they read our signals to them probably far better than we can imagine.

Bella is extraordinarily communicative. She is often very clear in relaying her needs and desires to us. We apparently lack her skills because we haven't yet been able to make her understand where she fits in our lives.

When we met with Dr. Dodman to help resolve her issues with Jan, we learned a few things about how to communicate with Bella:

1. Be consistent - in ways you never thought necessary.
2. Say what you mean and mean what you say.
3. You can't crown yourself king.

Let's take the points in order.

Point 1 was to both of us.

We know that dogs need consistency to understand what we want from them. If one day they're allowed on the couch and the next day they're not, they're going to get confused. What we didn't know is that some dogs can be so sensitive to our movements, motions and emotions, that even slight variations in our signals can leave them wondering what we want.

This was a lesson both Jan and I had to learn. The lesson was mostly that our dog is better at reading us, if she can see us, than we are at reading her. Dogs understand consisitency and some dogs, especially particularly smart dogs, can get confused if the sign you are using to communicate with them changes even a fraction from what it was previously. We had to learn to be very consistent and definite with our requests to her. Otherwise this could lead to insecurity based in confusion - What did we want from her?

It wasn't always thus.

As for her ability to read us, I've mentioned before that Jan has long hair, a beard and wears glasses. He also has a very soft, very deep voice. Even when he's over-the-moon happy, it can be hard to tell. In fact, if he gets excited, his deep voice gets louder but not really any lighter so it could be miscontrued as yelling if you don't understand the actual words he's saying.

In our conversation with Dr. Dodman, we were reminded how much dogs rely on our facial features and tone of voice to interpret our words. Yet when Bella looks at Jan, she can't usually see his eyes (she sees the reflection of his glasses), she can't easily assess his mouth (hidden to a degree behind his beard) and he's so quiet when he speaks to her most of the time that she may not be able to infer any tone at all because she can barely hear him. So the onus falls to him to read her a little better.

Dr. Dodman suggested Jan pay attention to the time of day (serotinin levels drop at night and she may be less tolerant, crankier), be aware of potentially painful situations (Bella may have some arthritis in her shoulders) and watch her ears, eyes and body posture for signs of stress and discomfort. It's also worth nothing that Jan does not hear quite as well as Bella and I do so visual clues to her current state of mind become even more important than usual.

Note to Jan: You need to up your drama queen quotient.

Correction: While discussing this history with Jan, I was reminded that it wasn't Dr. Dodman who talked to us originally about Bella's inability to read Jan due to his glasses and beard but rather our vet, Dr. Coldwell. It just reinforces what we already know - it takes a village to raise a scared-y dog. ;)

Point 2 was specifically to Jan.

Jan's biggest lesson was the second point: say what you mean and mean what you say. If you ask your dog to do something, expect her to do it. Don't let her get away with half-ways or not-at-alls.

Jan didn't grow up with dogs. The two dogs he shared his life with prior to bringing Bella into our home were adult dogs who had already been trained. They were also pretty 'normal', well-adjusted dogs who, even if they hadn't been trained, weren't going to have the types of issues Bella has. So he wasn't well-versed in all things dog. He wasn't familiar with "Nothing in Life is Free" and he certainly didn't know he should only ask for a behavior once so he had some learning to do there.

But believe me, this is hardly Jan's fault. Bella is a master manipulator. You cannot believe the lengths she will go to in her 'but I'm adorable' box to get what she wants. She can be hard to resist but Jan is learning to set expectations with her and not give in just because she bats her eyelashes at him.

Point 3 was one for me to learn.

When Bella first lunged at Jan, I stepped in between them. I've been stepping into the middle of dog fights my whole life and I didn't really think she would do anything. (I know, I'm not too bright. It's been said.) However, the research I turned up on the web largely suggested that the person being aggressed needed to control the situation. "Stop." "Turn away." "Ignore the dog."

Bella snuggling up with Jan
back when she was just a babe.

This approach however, actually kind of pissed Bella off (pardon my language). I felt like I was watching "Fatal Attraction" and Bella was doing her best "I'm not going to be ignored", Jan! routine when he turned away from her only without the humor we can look back on it with now.  It was scary. She wasn't dialing it back when he turned away, she just ran around and got back in front of him again.

And then Dr. Dodman said something that really struck home. For whatever reason, Bella has crowned me queen of the castle and deemed herself the queen's guard. It was not up to Jan to place himself above Bella - it was up to me. Anytime Bella made an aggressive advance towards Jan, I had to intervene. (See, maybe I'm not so stupid after all?) I had to be the one to break up the altercation.

This totally goes against all the behavioral advice I found online but maybe they're talking about situations that hadn't yet escalated to this degree? At any rate, it was up to me to control the situation and I have done as good a job as I know how. If Bella got on the bed in the evening, I had to usher her off. If she and I were cuddling and she grumbled at Jan's approach, I had to end the snuggle-fest.

It's been hard, I'll admit. This is the hardest of all the things I've had to do. A good part of me feels like I have let Bella down. That I've weakened the bond she and I shared. But I also know that I would never risk Jan's safety in lieu of a little snuggle time with the dog. Interestingly enough, my bond with her, while changed, has not really suffered. And her bond with Jan has increased exponentially.

The two most influential components of our work with Bella are coming up in the next few weeks: the meds and her 'Agility for Reactive Dogs' classes. I'm hoping to give a quick overview of both but they are long and on-going spokes in our wheel. I hope you'll stick with us for the continuing saga.

Post title credit: Led Zeppelin "Communication Breakdown" (Sorry for the intro advertisement. It's the best rendition of the song I could find on YouTube.)

---