Finally Home-Lessons on Life from a Free-Spirited Dog (2 page)

This particular one was about a year and a half and was a male. He was up to date on his shots, neutered, housebroken, and did not bite. His owner informed us, “His name…is Buddy.”

Buddy. We had to see him even just to play with him for a little while. Why would anyone give him up? That was the nagging question. There had to be something else going on. This opportunity was too good to be true. No one in his or her right mind would voluntarily give up a beautiful, young, and healthy golden retriever. After speaking with the dog’s owner, we made plans to go see him over the upcoming weekend.

That Sunday morning, we woke up early and stopped for some breakfast at the town diner down the block before making our way to the dog owner’s home in Long Island. As we drove down the tree-lined cul-de-sac, we pulled up to a beautiful, large Victorian house and parked our car at the bottom of the circular driveway.

Two young children greeted us at the door, and their mom trailed promptly behind them. We introduced ourselves and explained that we were there to meet the pup. The mother seemed friendly enough as she led us down the stairs to the secluded basement. We would soon find out that this was Buddy’s only room.

As we descended, we immediately noticed Buddy. He was utterly breathtaking, and it was easy to fall in love instantly. He was in the corner by himself quietly minding his own business and chewing on his slimy rawhide bone. That is until his ears perked up and he looked toward the stairs with his adorable eyes to notice us walking toward him.

Have you ever been in the ocean when the waves were so high you could not keep afloat, and it seemed like every time you caught your breath another wave came to knock you over? This is the best way I could describe Buddy’s initial reaction to us.

With his rawhide bone dangling out of his mouth, he started barking as soon as he caught eyes with us and then ran and jumped on us as if he’d never seen people before. For those of you who are familiar with that golden retriever smile, it was broader than I had ever seen. He kept tossing the bone up in the air a little bit, not quite letting go, but not quite wanting to hold it. He was indecisive about whether he should keep his bone or bark…so balancing the bone between his teeth, he did both. He was absolutely overjoyed.

We still could not comprehend why these people were getting rid of this bundle of love. His fluffy tail was wagging a million miles per hour and he was completely in his element. All this dog wanted to do was love and be loved. It was written all over his furry face. He was absolutely beautiful.

He developed this incredible tone in his voice that was not quite a cry, not truly a bark, but something in between. With his bone still in his mouth, he uttered a noise I had never heard before, which would soon become known as his trademark “Buddy-bark.”

To describe it would be somewhat ridiculous, and I am certain that spell check will not like it, but I will give it a whirl. It sounded something like “a woo woo woo woooo wooooooooooo,” the last “woo” carrying a somewhat higher, more intense, uneven pitch than the others.

As the owner struggled to control Buddy, she attached his chewed-up leather leash to his collar and began to give us some background on him. We could immediately tell that she was desperate to find him a home and that she had no control over this dog whatsoever.

She explained that they had tried to surrender him to Golden Retriever Rescue, but there was an extremely long waiting list and there was no room yet for Buddy. She was already his second and then his third owner.

His first owner had given him up because he was way too big for a small apartment. The current owners admitted that they had also given him up to someone who promptly returned him a day later. They regretted that they could not handle him and exclaimed “good luck!” as they returned him.

If we did decide to adopt him, we would essentially be his fourth owners. “If” being the operative word. If we did not take him, they were going to have to surrender him to a shelter. They were running out of choices.

The owners did the right thing by trying to find him a good home, but unfortunately they’d had no luck in their search. People had come to meet him and were immediately turned off by his neurotic mannerisms and excessive barking. He was getting too difficult to manage, and they were ready to give him up. It was the usual sad unwanted puppy story; his time was essentially running out.

Different shelters follow different rules, but there are some kill shelters that give the dog a certain period of time until they get adopted. If they exceed that limitation, they are put to sleep. There are just too many stray dogs and not enough facilities or financial means to accommodate all of them.

We needed to uncover what the catch was. He must have been vicious, and they were just not telling us. Or perhaps he had some extreme medical condition that they did not want to disclose to us. He appeared to be healthy and seemed like a normal yet overly energetic year-and-a-half-old pup. He did not act ferocious, although some dogs do tend to show their true temperament under different circumstances.

We asked some more specific questions, such as how he was with kids, dogs, men, women, etc. To all questions, she answered pretty much the same thing. He was “fine, never had a vicious episode, just a bit hyper.”

We inquired about his behavior while he was on walks and how he acted in the car. She answered that she did not know as they never got the chance to take him for either.

He was let out in their backyard but did not have the ability to run around at all to stretch his legs because there was no fence around the yard. On an average day, he was walked back there on a leash to do his business and then was immediately put back in the lonely and dark basement.

After questioning her on the personality of this dog and wondering what his main issues were, we were still not seeing the entire picture. We pressed on a little more to solve the mystery. He was definitely an excitable dog, but we figured it was only because he was happy to see new people.

She simply explained that they were giving him up because she and her husband worked long hours. It was difficult to entertain this dog after a long workday. In addition, he chewed a lot and jumped a lot.

“He jumps on the kids. He jumps on company. He knows his commands but does not obey them. He eats a variety of things that he should not be eating.”

She recalled how they came across him eating the children’s building blocks, crayons, and other objects they could not identify. He was a little wild and a lot out of control, so they had him on medication to calm him down—sort of like a puppy Prozac. He was a year and a half, still more or less a puppy.

The puzzle was slowly beginning to get pieced together. A puppy locked in the basement for twelve lonely hours each day without any chance to run free or release his energy. Hmm, wouldn’t you have acted the same way?

We were there long enough to take notice of their futile attempts at training techniques. When he jumped, they gave him a treat to get him down. When he mouthed us or anything else, they gave him a treat to remove his mouth.

We recognized an immediate pattern. The owners did what they thought was right in getting Buddy to behave. What they did not count on was that this dog was highly intelligent and realized exactly what to do to get a treat. Knowing this, he did the things he got rewarded for doing: good or bad.

Many unsuspecting owners might have done the same thing. It is a common mistake, and it happens all too often. You can’t fault someone if they are not used to dealing with an incredibly smart dog. The problem is that when a person tries to train an intelligent dog, the dog will easily learn how to manipulate any situation to get precisely whatever it is that they want.

The hard truth is that a dog acts the way that it does because it was actually trained to behave in that manner. Most people cannot accept this fact, but it is true. If you’ve had a dog since it was a puppy, you are the only master, aside from its birth mother, that the dog has ever known.

Unquestionably, this was the case with Buddy. He associated committing these bad behaviors with getting some yummy doggy treats! He was not necessarily a “bad” dog. He was just doing what he learned and interpreted in his little, intelligent mind to be “good” things.

After a few more enjoyable moments of sitting on the cold floor with this charming, playful pup, we thanked the couple for allowing us to visit with Buddy and went on our way.

Covered head to toe in dog hair and a good portion of doggy drool, we walked up the stairs and out of the house into the frigid December air. Buddy had been jumping and clinging to us on our way out, and we could still hear his desperate barking as the door closed behind us. I was thinking, “No way.” There was no feasible way we would be able to accommodate the needs of this crazy, disobedient dog. I was already onto my next thought of what to do for the remainder of the day and not even thinking that adopting him was a remote possibility.

When we reached the bottom of the driveway, I playfully posed the question to Michael. I just wanted to gauge his reaction and wholeheartedly expected him to laugh.

“So, what do you think?”

His answer was the complete opposite of what I was expecting. “Absolutely, let’s adopt him.”

When I heard his response, I got a bit lightheaded and immediately started to have a lack of confidence in my dog-training ability. To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I never predicted that would be his answer. I looked at Michael to try and determine if he were serious. Why was he joking like this?

I love all dogs, regardless of the breed, but Michael had never owned a dog. I thought this dog of all dogs would be a complete turn-off. I envisioned Michael’s “starter dog” to be somewhat calm, well-behaved, and easy to manage.

Instead, his reply was, “Let’s call them first thing tomorrow to let them know we will adopt him.”

While I was undoubtedly thrilled with the idea, I still had my concerns about handling such a crazed animal. Growing up, we had many family dogs, but I was the youngest in the family and never spent time training them. They just always seemed well-behaved. I usually spent time playing with them and never questioned it. This would be my first real test at responsibility, and we would have to figure out how to train him. He would not just “magically” become obedient. Was I up for the proposed challenge? Was Michael?

Still in awe and feeling mixed emotions of joy and trepidation, I made the phone call once we got home rather than waiting until the next morning. With an obvious tremble in my voice, I let them know that we would happily adopt Buddy. Little did I know that one phone call would be the one that changed our lives.

We made plans to pick him up on Thursday evening after work. I could not ascertain why, but I was nervous all week and could not wait to get him. I felt like I was expecting a baby—albeit an eighty-pound baby with lots of fur, but a baby nonetheless. I was also extremely happy. I don’t think I slept at all that week!

I recall that I had stopped at a local pet store prior to his adoption and walked up and down the aisles in a cosmic daze. Without knowing what he liked, I picked up a small bag of food, a variety of treats, stuffed animals, and various squeaky toys of different shapes and sizes. I could not concentrate in anticipation of adopting this crazed pup.

We cleaned the entire house and doggy-proofed it the best that we could. We had it all meticulously planned out. Michael, his niece, and I were going to take two cars. Michael would drive home in his car with the crate and all of Buddy’s belongings. Michael’s niece and I would drive home with Buddy. We would then have a few quality hours to spend with him during the night.  What do they say about the best laid plans?