Jasper, the One-Eared Dog

 

When Jasper first arrived at the shelter, we really didn't know what to make of him.  He huddled in the back of his kennel, pretty much sitting and glowering.  He wouldn't come forward to take a treat from me - even when I tossed it halfway across the kennel floor.  But he didn't growl, or give any signs of aggression, and the poor guy needed some water.  So in I ducked to get to know him better.

At first, he looked shy and confused:  one ear flat and laid back, the other standing semi-erect and forward.  Once inside his kennel, I could understand why a lot better:

My initial thought was that a previous owner tried to "ghetto-bob" his ears, and gave up after the first wouldn't stay erect.  After discussing it with some of the other folks at the shelter, though, it seems much more likely that something - something very large -  had gotten ahold of him at some point.  Jasper isn't a small fry by anyone's estimation, but whatever happened to him was very big and very scary, and it's left some pretty deep scars.  Not all of those are flesh wounds, either.

He's extremely frightened - almost never standing fully upright when he walks, ducking and shaking uncontrollably when he's touched too quickly or startled.  Yesterday, we had to cut short our walk because he was terrified of even the pigeons and grackles in the parking lot.  A little later, we ventured back out with Laney, a happy-go-lucky young boxer/chow/shepherd fellow, and Jasper found a bit more pluck and courage.

 

 I only had a chance to stop by for a few minutes this evening, but made sure to stop and say hello to Jasper.  He was a lot more relaxed, and nuzzled up under my arm contentedly.  I have yet to see him smile outright, but I have a feeling that he's not too far from it.

NOTE:  Time and weather allowing, we'll try to introduce him to our dog Amelia tomorrow -  she's no stranger to working with frightened dogs herself, and maybe she'll help Jasper locate his misplaced confidence.

UPDATE (2/11):  It snowed like crazy today.  Undaunted, Jasper and I went outside to hang out with Frosty, another dog on the "urgent list."  Someone was interested in both of them, so I figured it would be a good thing to see if they could stand each other first.  How did it go?  You be the judge.

 

And, at long last - Jasper smiled today.

UPDATE (2/13):  Jasper finally got to meet Amelia today - along with Rufus and Mia, when he came to stay with us for the next week!  Minnesota Animal Rescue pulled him (along with Frosty, and three other dogs) today, and he'll be heading north next weekend, health permitting.   So it looks like Frosty and Jasper could get used to this "snow" thing after all...

UPDATE (2/19):  Tomorrow is the day Jasper is supposed to go to a new foster in Minnesota.  We will let you know how that goes.  He's been a wonderful guest and I will miss his sweet little face.

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UPDATE (2/20):  Jasper's prospective foster did not reply to Tim's email, so Jasper is still here.  Our house is a bit too small and crowded now and so we are looking for another temporary foster for him until things are set for him in Minnesota.  He's super sweet and snuggly, and although he is being treated for URI, he's happy and energetic.  He does like to chase the cats and has a strong prey drive and should not be in a household with cats or other small animals unless supervised. He does not like strangers coming up to "his" house or gate and will let you know if someone's approaching.  Other than that, he's very observant of both his human and canine packmates and is eager to be a good boy, whatever that entails.  If you are interested in fostering or adopting Jasper, we can certainly arrange a home visit with your family/pack.  Email to onimusic@verizon.net.

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Rexa

Right next door to Winston is Rexa. She's quiet and gentle but very, very happy to meet anyone who cares to come visit her. She's not much for jumping up on you either, unless you let her know it's okay. Even then she's not too rough or rowdy. But she is a pit bull and far too many people who come into the shelter look past her on that point alone. She appears to know what "sit" means and also jumped up on the doghouse when I indicated for her to do so. She doesn't know how to fetch a ball, but she does love to play chase.

Rexa aims to please

Rexa is a stray that was picked up, but she does seem to have been taught good manners. I enjoyed walking with her because for once I had a dog that didn't try to drag me along behind. (Rufus, I'm talking to you...) and even though she didn't know me a single sniff, she had no problem with me entering her kennel, taking over her "bed" and glomping all over her our first meeting. She is an enthusiastic snuggler and the only danger you'll be in is that she just may steal your heart. She'll give it her best try, anyway.

She's not actually barking here, she's just making a funny face
after some goofing around with me in the yard.

UPDATE (1/21): Sophie and I decided that it was a shame for such a lovely dog as Rexa to be as dirty as she was - so we took advantage of the unseasonably warm day today, and gave her a bath. Although not too keen on hopping up onto the rickety bathtub, she didn't complain when we hoisted her up and strapped her in. She did complain once, very quietly, about the cold water; but so did we, so that's pretty fair. Like a trooper, Rexa let us suds her up, hose her off, ruffle her with some fresh-from-the-dryer towels, and walk around until the bright winter sun warmed her up and dried her out.

I will try to get some better pictures of her tomorrow if I can. It's difficult to see in our hurried, overcast-day snapshots, but Rexa is really quite beautiful: her "mask" and dark spots aren't black, but a warm, dark brindle. And although perhaps not as visually striking as Gilda, a sweet blue American Pit Bull gal at the shelter, Rexa has a classic charm to her that is hard to put into words and still pictures. Perhaps most endearing to me is what she often does when confronted by something odd, loud, or unexpected. Instead of breaking into gales of barking, she turns, looks me in the eye, and cocks her head to one side in an expression of "Well now, that's a curious thing."

I can't help thinking that Rexa's an extraordinary dog; one that deserves an extraordinary owner, and an extraordinarily happy life.

UPDATE 1/22: Rexa is still at the shelter and on the "blue" list. She's still just the best dog in the world and hasn't let the situation get her down. Today she lavished kisses and cuddles on a pair of little girls. She's fantastic with kids, shows no fear or aggression even toward barky dogs, yet no one seems willing to see past her breed. Rexa is too good a dog to let go. She would be the perfect family dog or a companion for a childless person or couple. She loves and trusts everyone. I can't stand to see such a wonderful dog languish unrecognized. If you know of someone who could use a calm, affectionate, considerate dog and who isn't prejudiced against pit bulls, please tell them about Rexa. She'll be the best friend you ever had.

UPDATE 1/28: Rexa has been pulled for rescue by K.A.R.E. (Kathy's Animal Rescue Express) from Minnesota. Our dear and tireless friend Christy has coordinated not only Rexa's rescue, but five other dogs (including Corina!) with K.A.R.E. and all boarding/vet fees are being paid by K.A.R.E. and Christy. If you can donate anything at all to this rescue mission, please click here.

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Homer

If you pick up a book about raising American Pit Bull Terriers, you'll probably run across the phrase, "Ambassador Dogs." It's sort of an ideal to shoot for: the best example of what a breed has to offer, and what they're supposed to be when brought up right.

When I first met Homer, that seemed a bit far from the reality of his situation. He was surly, mopey, easily startled, and didn't want to be touched. He even went so far as to shove my hand away when I went to pet him. Then he'd turn around and curl up in my lap. I wanted so much to connect with him, but he just seemed so out-of-kilter.

He seemed pretty affable toward the other dogs, though, and I thought he might be the one dog in the shelter who could keep up with Joker, a rowdy, fun-loving, athletic, and very bored dog who many of the volunteers are quite fond of. At first, it was a little tense... and then ensued a twenty-minute wrestling match of epic proportions which left both Joker and Homer panting, content, and grinning like idiots the whole way back to the kennels. It was the difference between "doggie jail" and "home."

A kennel isn't Homer's happy place, but it seems everywhere else is. He's vivacious, energetic, cuddly, attentive and gentle - and honestly, none of that is gilding the lily. Watching him roll around on the ground for tummy rubs, bound back-and-forth between Sophie and I because he couldn't decide which of us was more fun at the moment... I found myself thinking, This. This is exactly what a Pit Bull is supposed to be.

Between his sparkling personality and his velvety brindle coat, I kept thinking of Tige, the famous Pit Bull sidekick of Buster Brown. Honestly, if we had the resources and room, Homer would be sitting at home with us right now, likely thwacking an eager paw on my keyboard in an effort to help me with the blog.

It isn't often we run across a dog who'll run pell-mell across the playpen when you call, only to slam on the brakes and nuzzle or hop up and wait for you to catch his paws and snuggle him. Nor does every dog seem equally at ease romping like a maniac, then flopping down next to you for some quality hang-out time. Homer seems to be game for whatever you are, with enthusiasm and affection to spare. And I never would have guessed it, just watching him sulk all alone in his kennel.

UPDATE (12/24): Although tentatively "earmarked" for a rescue group, Homer wasn't picked up yesterday. He'll be spending Christmas in the shelter, along with Hershey and so many other dogs. At least they aren't out in the snow, foraging for whatever they can eat - but I still wish they were all somewhere warm, loving, and smelling like "home" to them.

UPDATE (12/28): Finally! Homer gets one step closer to having a home of his own - he was picked up today by a rescue group, and I couldn't be happier!
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Nick

The first time I laid eyes on Nick, my first reaction was something akin to, "American Staffordshire, huh? Yeaaaaah... We'll see about that." My skepticism was understandable - we see a lot of variations on many of the "Bull & Terrier" breeds - American Staffordshire, American Pit Bull Terrier, 'American Bully', Bull Terrier and Jack Russell Terrier. All of them are at their best a carefully standardized mutt (every domestic dog is), and at their worst a hodgepodge of unpredictable backyard-bred variables. I didn't have to wonder where on that spectrum Nick fell for long, though.

He's about as close to the "all-American dog" from the 1900's through the 1940's as I've seen a dog come - pretty much a banner carrier for all the good traits the American Staffordshire was bred for. He's by no means a small dog, and built to last. His brindle-and-white coat is quite dapper, he's got a smile to brighten the cloudiest day, and a cool disposition that holds up even under the Texas summer sun. In fact, he made such a good first impression, we've been using him as our resident "therapy dog for dogs" over the past week.

Nick hasn't been the biggest fan of games, preferring instead to walk around with us, or simply hang out in the lobby and meet people and other dogs as they come in. In fact, he seemed exemplary around children - putting up with a pair of extremely loud and rowdy boys running to and fro, and letting a flock of young girls pet, pat and glomp on him. All the while, he endeavored to be a rock of calm in a sea of chaos, and a good role-model for his less-than-bold sidekick at the time, Wendy.

In fact, Nick just seems to be a dog who wants the world to work as it should. I've seen him stand nonchalantly as a smaller dog menaced him, tell a bigger dog to back down and mind his manners, and handle frightened dogs with suprising gentleness and empathy. He even helped me usher one dog back into his kennel by gently nudging him along a few inches at a time. Not too shabby for a dog that's a bit intimidated and out of his element himself.

I wish there was a way I could take all of the frightened dogs and give them a shot of courage. In a perfect world, it would be instantaneous, painless, and infallable. In our world, though, I'm glad I at least have dogs like Nick, Engel, Remo and a genteel old spaniel named Clifford to lend a paw when others are in need. They're part of a special breed of dog - one that isn't measured by bloodlines or show-standard measurements and markings. And they're the ones that will always stay with us, in our hearts and fond memories.

Thank you all, guys. You'll never realize how awesome you really are.

UPDATE (7/8): Well, Nick is still at the shelter. And he's getting less shy, but more depressed each day. He was sneezing earlier, so I had to make a note for the vet to check for URI - better known as "kennel cough," a respiratory infection much like a cold, but for dogs. That makes him possibly ill, less outgoing, and a long-timer; quite a few strikes against him. Oh, and the proverbial "black spot" - he's a "Pit Bull" breed, so even if someone wants him, they might not be able to adopt him.

And I thought I had it bad getting up at 5am to go to work some days.

I sat with Nick for a few minutes today, and he curled up in my lap, his muzzle tucked under my elbow. Halfway joking, I rested my head and arm up on his sinewy shoulders to remind him that he might be sitting on me, but I'm still the boss. He looked at me inscrutably, then nudged my other arm underneath him so that I was hugging him (note: dogs really don't like being hugged, by the way). It was just about all I could do to keep from crying.

UPDATE (7/9): Today, a young couple came in looking for "a laid back pit bull." Tim introduced them to both Nick and another dog that fits that description, Baxter. They took both dogs out to the play yard and the pits had a lot of fun playing together and showing off for the humans present. It was a tough decision, but in the end Nick won them over. (His symptoms were simply a case of the sniffles.) He's going to be fine and we are so happy for him and his new "mom and dad." Congratulations, Nick!

Sam

The first time I saw Sam, he was sitting patiently in the hallway while a kennel was being cleaned up for him. I could tell right away that he was a freindly guy, and smart as well. He's waiting for his adoptable date right now (June 10th), and it can't come soon enough - the little gent has gone from excited to terrified, and is now acting a bit shy and depressed. In his circumstances, it's pretty forgivable.

Sam is curious and outgoing toward other animals, but has a major social handicap: his ears, or more precisely, lack thereof. A lot of people have their dogs' ears cropped, for various reasons. Many of them just want their dog "to look tough," which is a real shame in my opinion. And they don't take into consideration that a canine's ears are a major tool in communication with other dogs - the more they take off, the less they can express. Without cues from the ears, it becomes much more difficult to tell aggression from fear or submissiveness. Basically, it's like trying to communicate with someone who can't make facial expressions. Sam, sadly, has had his ears not so much cropped as removed. It probably caused him considerable pain and discomfort at the time, but now it's mostly just confusion as to why no one seems to understand him anymore. Even Remo didn't trust him at first, and it broke my heart when my pal tried to warn off the "mean stranger dog" walking with me.

Fortunately, Remo seemed a lot more relaxed with Sam around today, having had a night to talk things out. Although they're not the first things entering a conversation, Sam still has a wagging tail and a sappy, affectionate grin. What he really needs now is someone who will take the time to get to know him, and teach him to take his time when he meets others, too. Of course, they'll need to be able to withstand massive amounts of affection, as well - Sam's got a lot of it to share.

UPDATE: Sam and I went for a walk today, and spent a grand time just hanging out with some of the other folks helping at the shelter. The gate to the exercise yard suffered a broken hinge sometime yesterday, so instead of running amok we went inside and offered some encouragement to young Minerva (who will hopefully be picked up by a rescue group tomorrow). A short time later, Sam was put to sleep. He went out knowing that he had friends, and that he was well-loved.

Buddy

Volunteering at a shelter, one sees a lot of different - sometimes even unusual (see Remo) - crossbreeds of dog. Pit Bull Terriers are very popular, as are Labrador Retrievers; it's kind of a given that a lot of unexpected Lab/Pit mixes land on our doorstep. One such dog is Buddy.

His short, velveteen coat, white socks, and hardy physique are all praiseworthy traits of the American Pit Bull. His personality, on the other hand, seems to be that of a chocolate (brown) Labrador. It's a certain combination of playful, friendly, enthusiastic, and considerate that I've seen in several brown labs, and unlike just about any other breed I've worked with.

When I took Buddy out to try and get some photos, I wound up with a whole series of close-ups. He just wouldn't leave my side long enough to snap a picture. And it's difficult to write anything about him that doesn't sound like waxing poetic, because it seems like he's just an all-around good dog. If he received one bad trait from his Labrador genes, it would be his urge to jump up when he's happy and excited. It shows that Buddy came from a home with a lot of animals, too; he seems eager to meet everyone that comes by his kennel, human and canine alike.

UPDATE: Buddy's prospective adoptor from this weekend didn't show back up today, sadly. I'll try to follow Buddy's example and stay optimistic and upbeat, though.

UPDATE: Buddy ran out of time today. He was his happy, loving self to the end and the world's a little less sparkling without him. Our memories of him are full of his clowning around and exuberant affection.