Beatrix, a very good girl

“B” for Beatrix, says her name tag

Beatrix! A very good girl.

This is my account of B’s first three weeks in my home. It is filled with my impressions and opinions. People have acted with the best intentions; I’m trying to disentangle the mess of emotions I’ve been through these three weeks.¹ I can only imagine the emotions the dogs have been through.

Day 4 with B. This is an example of one of the photos I’m posting every day on Substack’s Notes.

The daily photos of Uša and Beatrix I have been posting in Substack’s Notes belie how hard it has been to bring a second dog into the “pack.” Uša has always been a love bug. He’s about 8 months old and was in foster care since very, very young until I adopted him in October. He loves people and other dogs. He loves climbing on his people, snuggling, and giving kisses. He has earned the moniker, “Mr. Wriggler.” He greets neighbors with amity if not love.

Beatrix, or “Bee” or just “B,” has a different backstory from Uša. She was picked up as a stray late last summer (as far as I can tell). She was officially declared two years old but she may have been only one. Either way, she almost undoubtedly spent a winter on her own, owner-less. She, like Uša, is from South Dakota.

B has fears. She is afraid of puppy wipes and towels.² She growls at new people but her instinct is to run away, not attack. She and Uša met on a Monday and got along well. I came back a few days later, alone so that I could see how well she and I could get along. She didn’t seem to trust me much even though I gave her, piece by piece, two hot dogs in the “get to know each other” room at Paws & Claws Humane Society (PCHS). She let me put the harness on her and I took that as a sign of enough trust to adopt her. I buckled her into the back seat for the 1.5-hour drive home.

Suddenly a switch had been flipped: I was her new BFF taking her on an adventure. She tried to get in the front seat, on my lap, to me any way she might, but she couldn’t because the doggie buckle did its job. I had to stop once because she had tangled herself over it in her struggles to be closer to me. After this ride in the car, B didn’t stop wanting to be close to me, and she continued to show how sweet she is by wanting to share my office chair with me, snuggling, licking my hand, giving kisses, offering me opportunities to give her belly rubs. When she gets really happy and excited, she “digs” at my feet and softly bites at my hand and arm. (We’ve been working on toning that one down a little.)

The energy in the house for the first few days was puppy-level excitement. Uša couldn’t believe his luck that the friend he had made on Monday came to his home on Thursday. They played and played and played. By the end of Day 3, I noticed she was favoring her right rear leg, which she probably strained in the excited play. Amazingly, when relaxing on the couch, she would let me “examine” the leg; I touched her leg bit by bit to see if I could pinpoint the annoyance. Nothing. She seemed just to enjoy the massage. I should have curtailed the play and I should have kept them more separated the first few days, but things seemed to be going so well.

There were, however, a couple fights that did not shock me. Fights can be nasty. In the spirit of sharing as much as I can, a couple of their fights were. I didn’t ever see the precise trigger, but the sound of a real fight is unmistakable. They play fight but these were real fights where you know you need to separate the dogs immediately or somebody might get hurt. Twice B latched onto Uša’s collar and didn’t want to let go. They were short fights, ten seconds was the longest one.

The cause of the fights wasn’t clear. One day, one took place after a meal, so their bowls were distanced and the routine before and after meals was made more stringent to give structure so everyone knows they’re going to get their food in proper measure and with less stress. Another day, a fight took place just because play fighting went a little too far. Uša is, after all, still a pup who doesn’t know when to stop sometimes and B might have had some pain in her leg. Play fighting became subject to more stringent supervision and “settle” is a command they are learning means to stop and take a break.

“Can we always be this peaceful?” (Day 12 with B.)

I worried about the effect on Uša. But make-up time was short, too. I’d sit with both of them, petting and cooing and reassuring them they were good dogs. Within a few minutes, Uša would sniff at B’s nose and lick a little. If she didn’t snarl, I knew they were well on their to making up.

B’s leg seems strong, better. She loves to run as fast as she can in the yard and chase squirrels and rabbits. There are fewer squirrels and rabbits coming into the yard now. The three of us have gone on a few walks through the neighborhood and B’s ability to listen and walk nicely is unbelievable for a dog that so recently said goodbye to life as a stray.

The low point of these first three weeks was B’s first visit to the vet’s office to which I’ve been taking dogs for years. B had been in my home for two weeks already. I warned them, of course, of B’s temperament and I even said a muzzle may be necessary. They quickly decided that not only was a muzzle necessary but also two vet techs to hold her down while the vet gave her the shots she needed. They didn’t want me holding her and they didn’t examine the leg. A prescription for Trazodone was given for the next visit. When I shared the fact that the dogs had had a few quick but real fights, the vet seemed very alarmed and predicted that Uša would be traumatized and that B needs a behaviorist ASAP.

I almost cried thinking about my options, which seemed to be to go with this top-notch behaviorist the vet was recommending or to take B back to PCHS. By the end of the day, after learning more about the behaviorist, I had convinced myself that PCHS would be best for B. I wrote an email to my contact at PCHS, but I waited until the next morning to send it. Always best to sleep on it. In the morning I sent it. I suspected I wouldn’t get a response right away on a Saturday. I think they had an adoption event that Saturday, so I didn’t get a response until Monday, which is just as well because Sunday night, for the first time, B decided to sleep on the couch. I had tried letting her sleep outside the kennel before, but it usually ended with ill-feelings between her and Uša since he believes the privilege of sleeping closest to me belongs to him. And honestly it does. We three can nap during the day together, but at night the bed belongs to Uša and the couch to B.

The response from PCHS gave me a whole new perspective on the matter which nudged me back toward what I knew was true in my mind, heart, and gut: I need to honor the commitment I made when I adopted her. My contact at PCHS wrote to me that B hadn’t needed a muzzle or anything with the vet when they had her. B had tolerated new people touching her and giving her shots then. (She also wrote that it was up to me if I wanted to bring B back, but it would be a couple weeks before they could accept her.) This, I concluded, is a dog who can be helped to overcome her fears with time and patience. The Trazodone is going to help her and is only going to be used for very stressful situations. I ordered Wagwell’s Calming Chews, too, to see if they can help. I’m going to find a trainer(s) who will help me help her build confidence against those vicious puppy wipes and with meeting new people. It may take a while, but I’m on the search.³ If you know of a good dog trainer/behaviorist in the Twin Cities who you think would be good for B, I’d be grateful for the recommendation.

These have been my impressions and my imperfect and incomplete account of B’s first three weeks. Many different philosophies about what to expect from animals exist. Humans often expect too much from animals. Slowly, it’s becoming clearer and clearer to me which I agree with and which I don’t. The word “convenience” keeps creeping into my mind when I think about it. What’s convenient for the human seems to always supersede what’s convenient or even good for the animal.

When B has to run from window to window, sometimes onto the tops of couches, to keep an eye on the squirrels from inside the house or, when let out, has to run to the backyard to make sure all the squirrels are in the trees where they belong, I sigh and say, “We all have quirks. Let B be B and we’ll be we.”

B keeping squirrels where they belong, with Uša assisting but not really knowing what’s going on and wondering why they aren’t playing. (Day 5 with B.)

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1. The 3-3-3 rule seems to be true. Here’s a good explanation of it: https://www.rescuedogs101.com/bringing-new-dog-home-3-3-3-rule/.

2. I learned this later when the weather warmed up for a few days. She is afraid of puppy wipes, small towels, large towels, anything that one might use to clean her feet after she comes in from a muddy yard. Nope, she is going to act like that puppy wipe is going to kill her—she yips before it touches her!—and that mud is going to come off the natural way. So I put a towel on the floor and get her to sit on it, because she is learning commands well. We also play with the towel to make it less scary.

3. I’m not going to go with the “gold standard” behaviorists that my vet recommended because when I read through their processes and prices, the last item was an annual check-in costing over $300 that is required by state law. I am in favor of protecting animals, but B does not deserve a legal status that requires she be seen by a specific company annually.