The Story of Effie: Just Keep Swimming
October 30, 2013 | By Mellie Test
Our integration with Effie has gone amazingly well. Perhaps it gave me a false sense of confidence, or perhaps today was "just one of those days."
First of all, Effie and the vets have made beautiful progress. We graduated to removing the permanent leashes, allowing all three dogs to mill about the house together unsupervised, allowing all three dogs to play (or not play) together at their discretion, and introducing toys. For the first time, I took all three dogs in the car at the same time — and was amazed that Ronan peacefully wedged himself in the front seat with (on top of) Effie, where they continued to snooze together for the duration of the drive.
Effie and Ronan have been playing together, and while Effie and Stucky play, it's not nearly as frequently. Hence, the abundance of Ronan-and-Effie photos. Their energy levels and styles of play match well. Stucky, on the other hand, prefers to observe, and often positions himself out of reach, perching above the fray.
Perhaps I allowed myself to be lulled into the ease that seemed to surround us. As a careful and conscious pet parent, I am the first to feel guilty when something goes awry. And a close friend's screams that I was "encouraging dogfighting" when Ronan and Effie latched together this morning didn't feel supportive.
Effie and Ronan were watching the rain pelt down from underneath our tiny overhang, refusing to venture into the downpour to play. Because I've been successful thus far introducing treats (I'll have the three sit in a semicircle around me, and they wait patiently while I give each one a treat in turn), I thought nothing of handing each a crumbly treat (mistake #1) and turning my back (mistake #2).
I didn't see what actually initiated the fight; I can guess that one of the dog treats partially crumbled from mouth to ground and the dogs became possessive. I don't know who growled first or who snapped. All I know is that for the first time since day 2 of Operation Adopt Effie, the dogs were latched. Tightly.
After what seemed like an hour but was likely only 60 seconds, I was able to drag Ronan's back legs (if you haven't learned this lesson already,never reach your hands into a dogfight - I've been accidentally bitten in the past simply trying to grab for a collar), far enough to partially close the door on Effie, causing her to release her hold enough for me to close the door completely between them.
While the damage was relatively minor, Ronan received the most.
I'm hearing the voices of the naysayers already. I frequently find myself humanizing my pets, and I wonder if Ronan faults me for his scrapes. I wonder if Effie feels confused, locked in the upstairs bedroom once more. I wonder if I've completely undone the progress we've made, if I haven't been dedicated enough, if I'm lazy and careless or whether the Universe is giving me a sign.
I love these dogs. I'm committed. And I'm returning to a more cautious frame of mind. Abby warned me that I might not be able to leave the dogs alone together for months. Maybe I pushed them too far by allowing them to cohabitate sooner? Maybe I set them up? Regardless, I'll figure it out. Witnessing any dog skirmish leaves me shaken, but we're going to move forward.
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