The caregiver

Bob Tailed Catahoula. Rescued from hoarder and will be sent to Catahoula rescue.

Hi. Hello? Yeah, it's me. No, no, I'm fine. Fuck yeah. Everything's fine. Totally. Yeah. Yeah. Fuck yeah. That's all good. Fine. No. No. Yeah, I've been thinking about it. No. Yeah, I know we talked about it. Yeah. Sure. Well, I've been thinking that if I talk to the fuckin landlord. I know. I know. Fuck, I know.

What? The Yorkie? The Yorkie's fine. It had that fuckin episode but it's fine now. Yeah, totally. The Husky's good too. I know. I know. Look, I fuckin know it killed the other one but I'm keeping it away now. It's on its own. No, not in the house. It's in the storage shed. Yeah. No, fuck, of course not. It's in a crate. I don't know. Fuck I don't know. Fuck like, maybe thirty. Like maybe there's thirty out there. The ones in the shed are in crates. I don't know. I don't count them. How should I know? No one else is going to take care of them. What am I supposed to fuckin do?

No. No, you can't have any of them. Because I don't know what you're going to do them, that's why. I don't know that. I don't fuckin know that. That's what you say but I don't know. How am I supposed to know? I don't know what you do. Yeah, so you say.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I don't know. Inside the house? I don't know. I don't know. Fuck I don't count them. No. Maybe more. No. No. Yeah, maybe that. Maybe forty. Well, the ones inside aren't in cages. They just walk around so I don't fuckin know. Yeah, the whole house. Yeah, except the big bedroom. Why? Fuck, because the cats are in there. What do you think? Because the fuckin dogs will fuckin kill the fuckin cats if I let them out, what do you think? I don't know. Fuck they're hiding most of the time. I don't know. Yeah, maybe twenty. Yeah maybe. More. Maybe.

Puppies? No. No more puppies. I haven't bred anymore. No, not since that fuckin episode. I don't know. Maybe the fuckin Yorkie had 'em for a night. Yeah, probably just a night. Yeah, she was trying to fuckin nurse them. Fuck yeah. Fuckin psycho. I don't know. All at once. One at a time. I don't know. I didn't see it. Because there's too many fuckin dogs here that's why! There's too many fuckin dogs! But what am I supposed to do? Fuckin tell me. You give me a fuckin plan.

No. No. No. I got to talk to the fuckin guy. If I talk to him, he'll let me stay. I'm pretty sure. I'm pretty sure. Then it'll be okay. Yeah, how do you know? You don't know. I've been here for years. He's not going to fuckin kick me out. I just need to talk to him. No. No. I don't need a fuckin contingency plan. I'm fine. They'll be fine. Fuck.

What would you do with them? Yeah. How do you know? How do you know? Do you know these fuckin fosters? How do you know they'll fuckin take care of my dogs? What if they, what if they, what if they fuckin abuse them?

No, you can't have the Husky. No you can't have him. Yeah, I know. I hate the fucker. I know. Because he killed my ... . No, you can't have him. Because he was my sister's favorite. He was her dog before she ... No, I have to keep him. I know he's in a cage. I have to keep him.

The Yorkie? No ... I ... maybe. Maybe the Yorkie. No, the puppies are gone. I buried them. Which one? It was the Chihuahua. They belonged to the Chihuahua, to Lucy. Yeah, the Yorkie took 'em. I don't know. I don't know. I guess she just took 'em. One at a time, I guess. I don't know. Yeah, she must've shook 'em. She killed 'em all. Yeah, all of them. Yeah, then she fuckin brought them back to her bed and she fuckin tried to nurse them. Yeah. I saw her, trying to nurse those fuckin dead puppies. I know. I know. Maybe. Maybe you can take her. I've got too many fuckin dogs here. I don't know. I don't fuckin know, okay? How many? I don't fuckin know, okay? I don't know.

And if you take them, then what am I going to fuckin do? Eh? Then what am I going to fuckin do?

Update on Fiji and Riley

Sometimes things just don't turn out as planned. Over the weekend, Riley and Fiji were picked up and sent back to Quebec. They were hitting a wall here with almost no one interested in adopting them. They both have their problems but Riley, especially, is a highly trainable, people friendly German Shepherd. He has issues with other dogs, sure, but then so do most other dogs to varying degrees and it's just something that needs to be handled. People just don't seem to be that interested in GSDs at the moment maybe because there haven't been any good Hollywood movies made about them recently. Too bad Marley wasn't a GSD.

But the good news is that they should both be in Quebec rescues soon enough. Riley will be going to a German Shepherd rescue directly. He actually could've gone there sooner but with all the recent puppy mill busts, that rescue had too many unspayed females and at the time Riley was unneutered. Now that TAS has neutered him, he won't be a pregnancy threat.


Fiji will be going to a Catahoula rescue but is still waiting on an opening there. The rescue is located in Ottawa so it's not such a bad thing for her to be held temporarily in Montreal at the SPCA. Fiji's still got leash issues but that's certainly a fixable problem with proper training.


Their journeys aren't over yet.

Cruel to be kind

There's a Catahoula Leopard X named Fiji at Toronto Animal Services in adoption. She's a very striking dog, a real attention getter. Yesterday I took her out of her kennel for a walk and as we were walking down the stairs to the first floor, she started biting on the leash. I stopped and gave her a firm no and she stopped so we continued but by the time we reached the bottom step, she was biting the leash again.

Now usually when I'm taking a dog out at TAS and it bites the leash, my main concern is that it might actually chew through the leash and run off. I've had a wide-eyed and innocent looking Beagle chew through a webbed nylon leash once in five chomps, all the while giving me a look-how-sweet-I-am stare, and though it luckily didn't take off, it made me always careful not the let that happen again. For me, then, stopping a TAS dog from chewing the leash is more a practical exercise in preventing escape than it is a training exercise in getting the dog to behave better. It's a subtle difference but it puts me in a different frame of mind.

Some people incorporate a training session into all their walks. That's cool too. That's what I do with my own dogs every day even though they hate the homework. But when I'm at TAS I feel, especially when there are lots of dogs that need to be walked, that I just want to let the dogs enjoy themselves and get as much of their yayas out as possible before I return them to their kennels. That means that as long as they're not crazily running in every direction or barking nonstop or biting the leash, I don't do much correction. It means I'm not usually in the frame of mind of trying to show the dog who's the boss.

I think that explains what happened next.

Fiji started biting the leash again. I tried voice only to get her to stop but that was having no effect so I pulled on the leash to get it out of her mouth and then I kept it taut to keep it out of her mouth and to maintain control over her as she continued to try to grab the leash. After a couple of attempts, she relaxed so I took another step and immediately she grabbed the leash again and started shaking it. I pulled it out of her mouth again, more worried about damage to the leash, but then she started growling and snapping at the leash. She was working herself into a frenzy, not wanting to be controlled and instead trying to control me, and I wasn't helping the situation because I had been focused on saving the leash, not on correcting her behaviour.

Fiji was on the verge of getting aggressive and the worry wasn't that I was going to get hurt, it was that dogs deemed aggressive have a limited future at TAS and we were downstairs in the reception area and people could see and hear what was going on. I should never have let her behaviour reach this point.

Then the shelter supervisor, who had been watching, walked over.

"Let me have her," she said.

Now I was worried.

I thought she was just going to take Fiji back upstairs and I'd never see the dog again but instead she tried working the leash to control Fiji. That didn't work out very well. Fiji kept fighting back, maybe even got worse with more snapping and growling.

Now I was really worried.

Then one of the animal control officers walked through the entrance and when he saw Fiji, immediately said, "Oh she's a really nice dog. I've never had any problems with her."

Great, I thought. So it's me.

The supervisor decided to try a different tact and tried to calm Fiji down. She kneeled down beside Fiji and put her hands on the dog's body, keeping her still. That was better. Five minutes later Fiji was walkable again.

As she handed me back the leash, she said, "Do not let her do that again."

"I won't," I said.

As I walked out the entrance with Fiji, I was praying, please don't bite the leash, please don't bite the leash and then we were outside and the door closed and we were safe. Fiji actually seemed okay. She was walking calmly, ignoring the leash, sniffing the air. That lasted for about five steps then Fiji turned around and started biting the leash.

For me, there's a point in a dog's behaviour when the kid gloves come off. Now if this was one of my dogs - well, let's say a totally untrained version of one of my dogs - I'd either grab it by the scruff of its neck or have it on its side by this point. I'm not recommending this method to anyone. This is just what I do with my dogs specifically because I know what works with them. If they cross the line, they get in shit.

Fiji had crossed the line.

I whipped around and grabbed Fiji's lower jaw and held it tight. I could see the surprised look in her eyes as she leg go of the leash.

"Look," I said to her, "If you don't stop that and start behaving yourself, you're going to end up in the freezer in there you dumb ass."

Fiji was trying to back up, trying to pull out of my grip but I held on.

"And I'm not joking."

I let go of her just as she was starting to let out a whimper.

She was fine after that. It was like we were best friends.