How My Dog Taught Me to Be a Better Mom

* This post appeared last month in Circle of Moms' Blog. It has not yet appeared on my blog so with Circle of Moms permission, I post it for my readers:

 My daughter is twelve. She is my middle child and she's just starting middle school. The school change has caused some hick-ups. She's always been a child who resists new. She clung to her worn running shoes, her old bed mattress (begged us not to take it to the dump even though the dog peed on it one too many times). She was my only baby who rejected her first solid food. My other two babies were thrilled to taste the mushy rice cereal, as though it were Haagen-Dazs. Not my middle girl, she spit it out; only breast milk would do. 

 What I didn't count on is how her picky eating would eventually catch up to her in her tween years. She gets sick, often--cold viruses, stomach bugs, aches and pains. I've taken her to the doctor, had her blood tested. She is healthy enough, though she has become gluten intolerant--I blame this on her picky eating. Her favorite thing has been white bread products. I believe she over did it and has now become sensitive to wheat. While her body battled the gluten, her intestines became inflamed and she absorbed little nutrients. The outcome is that she has become, suddenly, anemic (very low in iron). I've been worried about my girl for months--she seems tired, weepy, less social, less focused. The girl who organizes everything with detailed lists and labels, suddenly began loosing jackets and hoodies at school. 

What started out as childhood pickiness is now effecting not only her health, but energy level and school attendance.

A picky, gluten intolerant eater soon becomes a too-thin, anemic tween. My daughter's eating habits were not going to change on their own. I had to change them. When doctors and self help books failed, I looked to my dog for the answer. Training my new puppy might give me ideas on how to train my daughter. My pup has behavioral issues, ones that could ultimately affect his life. At five months Pablo (my pup) demonstrated very aggressive behavior towards other dogs. I've spent the last six months training him with unflinching dedication in situations that are often terrifying and emotionally exhausting. I  must lead him. On his own, he is self-destructive. My daughter's eating habits have also become self destructive, I must lead her to a safer path. The training never ceases. It's not like we get it now, move on. No, the training is constant, vigilant. Each day is a new day with successes and set backs. But we're on the right path of strong leadership

She eats what I make her now. I keep everything gluten free and healthy. She must drink a super-antioxidant rich glass of juice each morning as well. She hates this, plugs her nose and gags as though its medicine. She is also on iron supplements. I insist she eat what I put on her plate. I am not cruel, I don't force her to eat things she absolutely has always detested, but I am unflinching, dedicated, tough. When my child is damaging her own health with picky eating, it is unflinching, parental  assertiveness that gives me hope that she will become well nourished and strong. How did I become this assertive parent?  Training my aggressive dog has made me stronger. I can lead, even the most obstinate child, to a safer path.

The Training of Pablo

The following photos are of my daughter, Tabs and my Old Boston Bull Dog, Pablo. Tabitha has a special bond with Pablo. She insists she gets to take him with her when she leaves for University (many years from now). I said, of course. 

I've had a difficult puppyhood with Pablo. He has special needs. His breed was cultivated to be fighting dogs. He has the instinct to act aggressively toward any other dog that shows any aggression toward him--he'll fight to the death. After seven solid months of vigilant and exhausting training, Pablo turns one year old. With his age comes wisdom. We've conquered some of our biggest training hurdles. He is extremely bright and learns quickly--this has contributed to the successes I've had in controlling his aggression. That and the Dogstra vibration collar pictured below. It's expensive but it works (in water too if we're in the lake). When Pablo goes into attack mode (towards another dog) I have to remind him to sit or come using the collar. I can now walk Palo and his dog-bro together again. They used to feed off of each other's energy and go ballistic every time we passed another dog. Not anymore, they heel and keep right on walking. If the other dog lunges at them aggressively, Pablo will lunge back but then I make him sit and stay until he is calm and we carry on.

Each day is a new day and I can never let down my vigilance as pack leader. Training a dog is like raising children; one doesn't master the job after a good year of dedicated work. The job is always there with new challenges and some old ones that need constant monitoring. 

Although I agreed to let Pablo leave with Tabs, I am sure he will have become the absolute perfect dog and I won't want to part with him. However,  I'll let him go with my Tabs, because, although she might like Pablo to be a part of her campus life, I'm sure good, old Mom won't be quite as enthusiastically welcomed.

* Have a beautiful September Sunday! I will post this and then wake up my youngest girls to walk down the mountain with me and the boys (our weekly hike down to the lake and back)--the mornings are cool enough now that Fernando (my black pug) can do the hike too, without over heating. My eldest daughter is out of town with a friend (helping at a Party for The Green Party--see you soon Mist!
Update: Just returned from the morning hike down the mountain and I am very sad to say that Pablo was horrible, just horrible *tears of frustration* He was determined to keep lunging at an aggressive Scottish terrier and refused to lie down for me to submit--tried to bite my hands. The training truly isn't over until its over--one no longer has a dog. Wish me luck as I realize our training journey has only just begun...sigh....sigh...weep...weep...

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My Deceivingly Handsome Boys

Pablo going in for a brotherly smooch.

Oh, if only this photograph portrayed an accurate description of our simple, uneventful life. Look how happy and carefree we all seem...

 The door bell rings after 9 p.m. I paused my movie and quickly pulled a hoodie over my nightgown.
A neighbor, yes, the one I often hear yelling "fuck-off!" to Fernando, is standing in my door way, agitated, trying to control his obvious rage.  The veins in his neck are bulging. He wants to talk to Peter. Peter's out of town. (Like he doesn't already know that) Peter's been away for a month--his car no longer in our drive. He obviously didn't really want to talk with Peter, the coward found it easier to vent his rage on me.

He's had it with my dogs--the fighting between Pablo and his dog and Fernando's barking. But that's not all, he's had it with the weeds in our yard and the mole holes that are in his yard and ours. Like somehow the wild moles are my pets and I'm breeding them back there. Seriously, when one purchases a lot that backs mountain wilderness, what does one expect? If you don't want moles, buy inner city land. Anyway, this same neighbour is the one whose giant dog used to crap in our yard and lunge at our children until we purchased and had installed a fence to keep it out (pre Fernando and Pablo days). And the one who smokes outside our master bedroom window each night so we can never leave our windows open in our bedroom or we are smoked out. Why are some people so intolerant? I've put up with him and his swearing/smoking and nasty dog for years without incident.

 I have done my best with the yard and I do the best with my dogs. It is obviously not enough for the guy with the anger problem. He is rather frightening in his rage. I really want an acreage or perhaps an apartment in Paris (Yes, this is the solution :D). What I know for sure is I am putting up a privacy fence to keep him and his obsessive spying eyes off of my property. I  awoke alone in the house the other night to the sound of a door opening inside my house. The dogs didn't bark but still, I was terrified that someone had climbed in a back window and the dogs hadn't heard them. When neighbors are aggressive and creepy, it makes one think twice about safety in the middle of the night.

Now, about those deceivingly handsome boys...I hit the wall with Pablo's behaviour last week. Came face to face with the option of finding him a new home. It took hitting bottom to awaken my Alpha mind. I awoke in a sense, became one with the dog--lol--for those who don't know me, I am not really serious but a little serious about this statement. I suddenly got what I needed to do. Who I needed to be. I understood what being a dog leader really meant. It meant letting go of my fears. My fears were holding me back from taking charge. I was terrorized by dog on dog aggression. Once I came to terms with my own fear, I was able to see what Pablo needs in order to behave. I realize that I cannot let him do anything I don't want him to--ever. Even if they are small innocent things--jumping on my bed in the morning etc. If I let him do things I've said no to before, he begins to ignore my demands even in a crises (when he wants to fight another dog). I get him now, as I get Fernando. I adore my dogs and realize we are stuck with each--for better or for worse.

As for my handsome Latin-lover-boy Fernando (a female pug was completely smitten by him the other day in the park), he has a mystery pain that flares up suddenly and causes him to cry and scream in pain--I cannot isolate its source and it comes and goes. So odd. Looking forward to Dr. Hart (my sis)  arriving this weekend to diagnose.

My darling Pip is asleep right now--we were returning from morning swimming lessons just an hour ago when she screamed that her stomach hurt. I pulled over to the side of the road and she vomited. Worried it was a major allergic reaction to the oat cereal she had for breakfast--oats have caused her stomach pain in the past. No more oats ever again! Tabs is glutten intolerant and now Pip cannot tolerate oats. Our house is pretty much grain free. May be a quiet day in our house.
I am just beyond happy my babies are back home with me. I missed them so very much. They make my heart sing every single day.

Raising a Bully

Pablo

I am attempting to raise a bully. Bully as in a bull-dog breed; one whose genetics stem from dog fighting roots, and before that, to bait bulls in Spain. I have learned so much since I adopted Pablo. As I stated before, I adopted an Old Boston Bull dog because I love the bulldog personality but not the health problems associated with the most popular breeds: British and French Bull dogs. I went for a rarer breed that is known to be very athletic, intelligent, healthy and loyal. The desire to want to kill other dogs was not something I counted on. This trait surfaced in Pablo early on (5 months) and it surprised me. He is good with Fernando although on occasion he will get all worked up and attack Fernando over food. When one adopts a breed that has a natural tendency towards dog-fighting, one has no choice but to dominate that dog into submission. Any dog trainer will agree that it is much easier to dominate a dog if you are big with a deep voice (if you are a male). For me, who is relatively slight for a human with a feminine voice and mannerisms, it takes everything I've got to dominate the beast named Pablo. I've learned that size matters. I would never adopt a dog breed that in the past was cultivated for aggressive genetic traits (guard dogs, fighting dogs) unless I was physically able to intervene and pull the dog off when and if it ever attacked. Having Pablo has taught me that although Pitt Bulls are similar to Pablo in temperament, their size is too big for me as a dog parent. I can barely handle Pablo who is going to max out at about 35 lbs.

I collapsed last night, on my bed, beyond exhausted, my mind unable to think clearly. Why? Well, as any modern parent will tell you, raising three children, having a partner and trying to establish a career is enough to exhaust anyone. But what is it that pushed me over the edge? As I lay in bed, feeling past any illusions of ever rising again, one word came to mind: DOG. Pablo has pushed me over. Every single day I have been giving every ounce of my soul to dominate that beast. Several times daily I must stop him from trying to kill the dog next door (if they happen to be in their yards at the same time). They fight through the chain linked fence like savage, crazed, murderous beasts. The other dog in huge (a husky cross). Pablo's face gets cut-up and bleeds from these fence fights. And if Pablo is not fighting, he is barking in the yard. That is when the odd, dreadful neighbor yells "shut that fucking dog up!" Inside the house, he is in the garbage or jumping up on kids non stop or occasionally attacking Fernando over food. I reprimand him constantly, making him sit and stay, putting him in his crate if he is particularly stubborn. On walks, if we pass another dog Pablo wants to kill it. I restrain him always and discipline him--make him sit, roll him onto his back if he is naughty, hold onto his collar for dear life. And the horrible thing is that Fernando encourages Pablo by also barking at every dog we pass. This gets Pablo frenzied. And when I prevent him from attacking, he's in such a heightened state, he decides to attack Fernando. Then, I have to haul his mouth from Fernando's neck and roll him over in submission, growling, shouting at him.

I am becoming so past being a giant, dominating alpha dog-woman. It's too hard to bully a bully all day. It is not my nature to yell, shout and bark orders non-stop. I don't have a deep voice and I always wear my voice out by the end of the day from trying to speak in a low, dominant voice to Pablo.

What will I do? Soldier on in any way I can think of. Today a dog day-school is getting the call. I'll try sending him to dog day care to see if it helps him learn to tolerate other dogs.  The day school also works with the dogs on obedience while they are there. Hope it helps. How can one beast turn a world inside out? Adopt a Pablo and find out. Fernando was also a crazy beast as a pup, but not crazy-aggressive with other dogs. It is that trait that tips the scales for me. And yet, I love the dog. He loves me so much, how can I not love him back? I feel he is very heavy cross to bare at this point in time but I cannot help but love him. Love is twisted.

Bark Busters

Kevin from Bark Busters with Fernando the Great. His technique is amazing--based on treating Fernando like the wolf he is. And basically training me to accept he is not human and can't be expected to act like one. Most importantly that I always be the Alpha wolf. That is the key. It is a much harder job than one would think. Being an Alpha wolf means something much different than being an Alpha human. I must ignore all his requests for play, attention--otherwise he is leading me. I must never let him lead going down or up stairs and he must never go through a door before I tell him it is OK. These are just a few of the things we are learning. My correction is a growl "BAHH!" Which, after an entire day, makes my throat raw. Also, by evening Fernando really starts to try to dominate and by that time I am spent. Evening are the hardest, I just want a break from being Alpha wolf. And Fernando senses this and pulls out all his tricks to try to gain domination.
Peter is in Vancouver.
I took the gals out to Tim's for breakfast today. Pip refused to go to preschool. After about an hour she decided she'd try it again. She said, "maybe I had cold mom. But now I all better, so I changed my mind!" I think it was that I mentioned that they'd be talking about pumpkins and doing Halloween crafts all day. When I dropped her off, a little boy ran over and hugged her and introduced himself to me, "I'm Carter." A little gentleman. Artemis was thrilled her cuz had decided to show up after all. She grabbed her hand and led her away from " that Carter." She wasn't going to have some boy steal her fav cousin away, when she'd only just arrived.
I am still recovering from a difficult emotional roller-coaster--feel like I'd been trampled by 100,000 stampeding bison. However, it means for me being more vigilant about my responsibilities and recognizing those that aren't mine. My appetite always plummets under serious emotional stress. But the anxiety fuels my energy so I'm up and at it working out. This is a good side effect. At least if my head falls apart, my body will still be fit.
And on a poo-poo note, the neighbors pulled out of wanting to split the cost of a backyard fence. Rather unneighborly and cheapskate of them, I do declare.