I am sitting on the couch. Ziggy just came over, put her chin on the couch, I patted it and she jumped up and flipped her body around to lie against my thigh. I pet her as I continue to work on the computer.
Sometimes I forget how far we've come, but then I remember how when I first got her she would rather maul me. I couldn't sit and work on my computer on the couch without regular jumping and mouthing and scratching.
We have adjusted to each other. She now craves positive strokes and has learned how to get that.
In two weeks, it will be her "Gotcha Day." October 16 I took in this wild beast and she turned my life upside down.
For all the challenges though, she has become my best little sidekick. She is sweet and funny and finds delight in life where I forget to notice it.
She's now sitting at my feet chewing on a dog toy, completely ignoring the flip flops right beside her. She used to steal them and chew them, but now she looks in disgust at such actions. She really is such a good dog. She would never toilet inside the house or show aggression to a child. She's just ... intense.
But I've never known a dog who shares joy around quite like her. From her visits to the fellows at the nursing home where I used to live to sullen teenagers, Ziggy knows how to look them right in the eye and be happy to see them. And they're happy to see her, too.
In the hands of somebody better qualified than me, perhaps Ziggy would have moved past her reactivity and obnoxious inability to calm down when overstimulated. She wouldn't pull on the leash during walks or jump on visitors. I own it: I haven't been the best trainer. OH, I have taught her all the basic commands, but there's no way to get her to immediately come when called if there's something more interesting the other direction.
But I love her and she loves me, and because of our relationship she has come miles. She is happy and safe, and she greatly enhances the quality of my life. There's nobody I'd rather spend time with every day than her.
And honestly I think that loving her is more important than being a grade A trainer. I saw how she responded to expert trainers (before being expelled) - she refuses to learn from people she doesn't love.
Recently I heard a talk on PTSD and how the constant flooding of the brain with cortisol rewires it. They were talking about people, but it rings so true with Ziggy. Whatever happened in her first year of life made her synapses fire in a way most people would consider deficient. It makes handling her difficult because she just doesn't process information in a way that makes sense to me. So I remember a student I had once who had been horrifically abused and how she would overreact to things, and how she taught me to be successful with her.
Patience and love matters a lot.
Dog brains and people brains are different yet a lot of the same processes are at work.
And maybe Ziggy's brain will never be "normal," but she has made tremendous strides. Some days are better than others, and when she's overmaxed then I know to close the blinds and reduce her stimulus inputs. She can't help that her brain misfires. She doesn't want to be insane.
We have an appointment with the dog psychologist (veterinary behavioral specialist) in December, and I look forward to hearing from an expert. I may put her on meds to help her get through the tough times. I've always been resistant to meds because the people recommending that have her all mislabelled. She's not hyper, she's energetic with an inability to handle too much stimulus. When it's just her and me, she doesn't do any of the things people consider hyper. One friend was laughing at her ADHD, but her paying attention to every new thing rather than sticking with one focus makes her a good watch dog.
Ziggy is just a special dog in a lot of ways.
Sometimes I forget how far we've come, but then I remember how when I first got her she would rather maul me. I couldn't sit and work on my computer on the couch without regular jumping and mouthing and scratching.
We have adjusted to each other. She now craves positive strokes and has learned how to get that.
In two weeks, it will be her "Gotcha Day." October 16 I took in this wild beast and she turned my life upside down.
For all the challenges though, she has become my best little sidekick. She is sweet and funny and finds delight in life where I forget to notice it.
She's now sitting at my feet chewing on a dog toy, completely ignoring the flip flops right beside her. She used to steal them and chew them, but now she looks in disgust at such actions. She really is such a good dog. She would never toilet inside the house or show aggression to a child. She's just ... intense.
But I've never known a dog who shares joy around quite like her. From her visits to the fellows at the nursing home where I used to live to sullen teenagers, Ziggy knows how to look them right in the eye and be happy to see them. And they're happy to see her, too.
In the hands of somebody better qualified than me, perhaps Ziggy would have moved past her reactivity and obnoxious inability to calm down when overstimulated. She wouldn't pull on the leash during walks or jump on visitors. I own it: I haven't been the best trainer. OH, I have taught her all the basic commands, but there's no way to get her to immediately come when called if there's something more interesting the other direction.
But I love her and she loves me, and because of our relationship she has come miles. She is happy and safe, and she greatly enhances the quality of my life. There's nobody I'd rather spend time with every day than her.
And honestly I think that loving her is more important than being a grade A trainer. I saw how she responded to expert trainers (before being expelled) - she refuses to learn from people she doesn't love.
Recently I heard a talk on PTSD and how the constant flooding of the brain with cortisol rewires it. They were talking about people, but it rings so true with Ziggy. Whatever happened in her first year of life made her synapses fire in a way most people would consider deficient. It makes handling her difficult because she just doesn't process information in a way that makes sense to me. So I remember a student I had once who had been horrifically abused and how she would overreact to things, and how she taught me to be successful with her.
Patience and love matters a lot.
Dog brains and people brains are different yet a lot of the same processes are at work.
And maybe Ziggy's brain will never be "normal," but she has made tremendous strides. Some days are better than others, and when she's overmaxed then I know to close the blinds and reduce her stimulus inputs. She can't help that her brain misfires. She doesn't want to be insane.
We have an appointment with the dog psychologist (veterinary behavioral specialist) in December, and I look forward to hearing from an expert. I may put her on meds to help her get through the tough times. I've always been resistant to meds because the people recommending that have her all mislabelled. She's not hyper, she's energetic with an inability to handle too much stimulus. When it's just her and me, she doesn't do any of the things people consider hyper. One friend was laughing at her ADHD, but her paying attention to every new thing rather than sticking with one focus makes her a good watch dog.
Ziggy is just a special dog in a lot of ways.
