Note: These events are a bit old - I've been waiting to see how things fall out before posting.
So The Girls settled in togther in a satisfactory manner - Not quite closest of friends, but tollerant of each other, and somewhat social, with occasional bursts of play. Life was good!
Then the wheels come off...
Dakota went counter-surfing, and got caught (I knew she was doing this, it was just a question of catching her in the act), and so was corrected. This seems to have set of a social reaction of disturbing proportions. At least, I believe this is the proximate cause. About an hour after being corrected, Dakota jumped Suka from behind, right at my feet. OK, Rule #1 for breaking up a dog fight: DO NOT GET BETWEEN THE COMBATANTS! Fortunately, I was immediately behind the combatants, and in place to use my favorite (and maybe only safe) tool for breaking up fights: Grab one of the dogs by the hind legs, and back up - fast. Turn as you do, to force the dog to side-step to keep on her feet - this keeps her too off-balance to turn and try to bite you, if she's so inclined.
Ideally, you should have two or more people - one for each combatant - to prevent one dog from following and continuing the fight. If you don't have enough people, isolate the dogs in seperate rooms, behind fences, or if not that, then take a lead, hook it to a collar, loop it once around the dogs waist, and tie it off to something solid. Then you go after the other dog... Ideally, you want to get the dogs out of sight and sound of each other.
Within a second, Dakota had Suka pressed to the floor, still upright. Suka had twisted her magnificently flexible neck around to engage, but was still at a terrible disadvantage. When I grabbed Dakota's legs and jerked her backwards, Suka was off like a shot - headed for her crate. One combatant I needn't worry about following up! Dakota whipped her head up to look at me - I daresay she'd forgotten I was present at all, and I literally hiked her like a football back between my legs, grabbing her scruff on either side of her head, just behind her jaws. That's 100 pounds of dog, all four paws on the ground, going backwards like a pigskin at the snap... Adrenalin is potent stuff! With her head immobilized, and her attention suddenly and totally focused on me, it was clear the fight had completely gone out her. I must've roared, too, at some point, as people came running from all corners of the house. (My wife says I'm scary when I roar. Go figure.)
Dakota's head still immobilized, I frog-marched her to her crate and shut her in. Suka, I had to literally haul from her crate, so I could inspect her for injuries... And there were some. A pressure cut to her lower right eyelid, and a minor puncture about an inch below that. Messy, but minor. She allowed me to give her a complete and thorough checking, though it was clear she wanted back to the safety of her crate. Put her back to her crate, then hauled Dakota out to inspect her, too. Again, I had to haul her out - She was clearly reluctant to face me, but put up with her inspection with proper manners. No blood, but a LOT of saliva on her throat - Suka hadn't been screwing around in defense - Any better angle, and Dakota'd have taken a serious injury.
A couple stitches, and everything is well, health-wise. I became the Fun Nazi - Only one dog out of their crate at a time except when I'm immediately present, and extremely close supervision even then.
Two days later, came a near-exact repeat, dispite the close supervision, only this time with Suka getting a solid piece of Dakota in return - A seriously bloody lip - with Dakota actually doing no damage to speak of. I was now the Fun Gestapo. No more than one dog out of their crate at a time, period, no matter who is present. Both dogs sleeping in their latched crates at night. Both dogs on-lead in the house.
Since that time, some time back, Dakota has been much more obedient. She apparently had some reservations about who was in charge. Not any more - Getting man-handled like she was a puppy seems to have made an impression. Since that time, she and Suka are both at once more snarky with each other, and more tollerant of each other, if that makes any sense - They express their opinions, but also seem to get along better. Certainly the 'play' aspect of their lives has improved. I suspect that the clashes, and my immediate and very dominant response, have sorted out the relative relationships.
In retrospect, I should've gone all 'Fun Gestapo' right out the gate. Lesson learned - they're both good dogs, but dog society and people society do not correspond exactly. I need to think like a dog, and I still watch them closely. People wonder why I don't let the dogs oiut into the back yard unsupervised. I don't, because I'm thinking like a dog - I'm The Boss, and I want to make damn sure that The Girls know The Boss is watching. Dakota is huge, powerful, and fast. Suka is if anything, even faster, and has very sharp teeth. They don't get the chance to get at each other without someone responsible and capable to stop them if they forget their places again. They can play, and run and pace, and bark, and all the rest, but they also know that if they step out of line, The Boss is right there to put them back in their place. It means less screwing-off time for me, but if I wanted my time all to myself, I would've never married, much less brought dogs into the house... :-p
Showing posts with label Discipline. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Discipline. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Meanwhile, back at The Farm...
Spent a bit of time down at The Farm, this AM. Didn't take Suka, as she's been exposed to Dakota, and whilst Dakota has a clean bill of health, you never know what mild, sub-clinical illness she might be harboring. It'd be some kind of serious rude to expose the rescuees at The Farm to some bug they'd never seen before. So - Suka stays away for a few more weeks longer.
Not as many dogs at The Farm as there sometimes are, and maybe that's a good thing - The economy has been having obvious impact on volunteer hours, and whilst the core work is getting done, it's a bit of strain. Some projects that need doing have been hanging-fire. Some key projects have been done, but more could be done, if there were hours available. Recently, there was a massive work day, and the bathing room was given a major face-lift. Some used, but still very serviceable medical holding kennels were added, and it's made a major imrovement on the quality of care for the dogs staging through the bathing room. Not to mention making things much easier to keep clean!
Well, today, I was put to the task of clearing out some blown appliances from the kennel house. A fairly straight-forward task, save that rats have been tearing at the infrastructure, so there was a bit of cleaning up to be done. Also, the dogs have been digging at the foundation again, and had created a completely undermined tunnel-like structure right at the cargo door - One that wouldn't hold my weight for a second, much less my weight plus a dolly holding a washing machine.
So... Find a hunk of heavy-duty plywood, bridge the gap, and work the appliances out to where I can get the dolly under them, then haul them out and into the play yard. Next, haul the equipment across the play yard, avoiding all the ankle breakers the dogs have thoughtfully dug for us there... Oh, and dodge the dogs, too... Including the pinheaded booger who has been so severely under-socialized and left so free of discipline that his idea of a friendly greeting is to bite you. >:-(
Finally, out through the dog-lock and then across the yard, over to the dumpster area. One washer, one dryer, both elderly and quite heavy. Then clean the mess left behind, and replace the washer - A reverse pilgrimage from above - whilst breaking up scuffles between Pinhead and the other dogs, and fending him off, too.
Also, moved some spare stainless kennels, to make space for a freezer, then moved the freezer.
That's all - About two and half hours, all told. Not my usual stay, but time was a bit pressurized; My hours are subject to squeezing by the economy too, and I've not spent near as much time down at The Farm this summer as I'd have liked to have done.
A word on the Pinhead; He's a young dog - Well under a year, and possibly a pure-bred. He's a classic black-n-white rough coat, and has fabulous teeth. Which I experienced quite closely. I daresay he's never experienced real discipline in his life. Certainly, once I lowered the boom on him, he shaped-up quite a ways... For me. I do NOT appreciate being greeted by a dog that tries to get my attention by pinching my legs right through my heavy jeans. Nor do I appreciate being punched by a dog that uses his front paws to practice kick-turns off my groin. So I had to drop a hammer on Pinhead, and he eased off - Though he kept almost forgetting, and spent a lot of time directly under my feet when I needed to be walking. He's in rescue, and there's NO DAMN REASON for it. Had the parents of the kids handling him paid some attention, and applied some basic discipline, there'd be no reason for him to be a pain in the ass like he was this AM. He could be a damned good dog for someone. Instead, he's an annoyance and nuisance to everyone whom meets him, and he's going to need a fair bit of detailed work to get back on the straight and narrow. No doubt, the HBIC will manage to fix his little red wagon, or will find a willing foster to sort him out, but he should have never needed to come to us in the first place.
Not as many dogs at The Farm as there sometimes are, and maybe that's a good thing - The economy has been having obvious impact on volunteer hours, and whilst the core work is getting done, it's a bit of strain. Some projects that need doing have been hanging-fire. Some key projects have been done, but more could be done, if there were hours available. Recently, there was a massive work day, and the bathing room was given a major face-lift. Some used, but still very serviceable medical holding kennels were added, and it's made a major imrovement on the quality of care for the dogs staging through the bathing room. Not to mention making things much easier to keep clean!
Well, today, I was put to the task of clearing out some blown appliances from the kennel house. A fairly straight-forward task, save that rats have been tearing at the infrastructure, so there was a bit of cleaning up to be done. Also, the dogs have been digging at the foundation again, and had created a completely undermined tunnel-like structure right at the cargo door - One that wouldn't hold my weight for a second, much less my weight plus a dolly holding a washing machine.
So... Find a hunk of heavy-duty plywood, bridge the gap, and work the appliances out to where I can get the dolly under them, then haul them out and into the play yard. Next, haul the equipment across the play yard, avoiding all the ankle breakers the dogs have thoughtfully dug for us there... Oh, and dodge the dogs, too... Including the pinheaded booger who has been so severely under-socialized and left so free of discipline that his idea of a friendly greeting is to bite you. >:-(
Finally, out through the dog-lock and then across the yard, over to the dumpster area. One washer, one dryer, both elderly and quite heavy. Then clean the mess left behind, and replace the washer - A reverse pilgrimage from above - whilst breaking up scuffles between Pinhead and the other dogs, and fending him off, too.
Also, moved some spare stainless kennels, to make space for a freezer, then moved the freezer.
That's all - About two and half hours, all told. Not my usual stay, but time was a bit pressurized; My hours are subject to squeezing by the economy too, and I've not spent near as much time down at The Farm this summer as I'd have liked to have done.
A word on the Pinhead; He's a young dog - Well under a year, and possibly a pure-bred. He's a classic black-n-white rough coat, and has fabulous teeth. Which I experienced quite closely. I daresay he's never experienced real discipline in his life. Certainly, once I lowered the boom on him, he shaped-up quite a ways... For me. I do NOT appreciate being greeted by a dog that tries to get my attention by pinching my legs right through my heavy jeans. Nor do I appreciate being punched by a dog that uses his front paws to practice kick-turns off my groin. So I had to drop a hammer on Pinhead, and he eased off - Though he kept almost forgetting, and spent a lot of time directly under my feet when I needed to be walking. He's in rescue, and there's NO DAMN REASON for it. Had the parents of the kids handling him paid some attention, and applied some basic discipline, there'd be no reason for him to be a pain in the ass like he was this AM. He could be a damned good dog for someone. Instead, he's an annoyance and nuisance to everyone whom meets him, and he's going to need a fair bit of detailed work to get back on the straight and narrow. No doubt, the HBIC will manage to fix his little red wagon, or will find a willing foster to sort him out, but he should have never needed to come to us in the first place.
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