Georgia’s First Year With Me

The following is a rough summary of the progress she made in a year after I got her (June 2003 – May 2004), and it was written in May 2004. I’m putting this following Georgia’s gotcha day story because it seems like the best place to stick this in. Georgia is much much better now than is described here of course.

Upon arrival, Georgia found a corner of my living room and decided to stay there. So I set up her food and water station and wee-wee pads close by where she can have easy access, and littered the corner with various chew toys and squeaky toys. She learned to use wee-wee pads in her fosters because she was terrified of going outside. She still is. According to the rescue, the owners told them that once Georgia’s dad (Shepherd) found out something was wrong with her, he would bring her in his mouth and leave her outside in the rain. Georgia’s mom, on the other hand, would come out of the shelter and bring Georgia back in, but the dad would bring her back out again, and the mom would not come out to get Georgia the second time. So the rescue thinks that Georgia is terrified of going outside because she’s scared she would be left out there.

Another thing I found out later by the way, was that Georgia was not born with a deformed leg as told by the original owners, but cut by something like a lawnmower or something when she was very young and the owners didn’t treat her properly.

The next day when I came back from work, she was inside a cat carrier. Who would have thought a Lab/Shep mix would fit into one! To get her out of there, I needed to disassemble the carrier. She eventually got out of there and went into her crate. And she wouldn’t come out of it. She’d pee and poop inside the crate refusing to eat. I noticed she would come out to drink water if I seemed to be asleep. So when she got out, I quickly closed the crate door so that she couldn’t go back inside. Then she went back to her favorite corner of the living room where I set up the doggie bed for her.

For days, she would just sit or lie there. I could see her trying so very hard not to fall asleep with her bloodshot eyes. She would eventually doze off, but after 5 seconds or so, she would wake up and frantically look around. The only thing I wished for her for the first week I had her was for her to get a good sleep because it was so painful to see. She would not eat while I was in the same room, so I used to go into my bedroom and close the door for a couple of hours so that she could come out of her corner and eat, drink, and use the wee-wee pads.

I consulted a behaviorist who recommended me to do basically what I had been doing, which was to let her come out of her shell in her own time. Nothing was to be forced and just work on her to be comfortable in her environment first. Once she got comfortable without me in it, then I was to work on her getting comfortable with me. She was put on Prozac.

Day by day, I would find some evidence that Georgia was getting comfortable; by the rearrangement of things in the living room. And one day, I came into my bedroom, closed the door, and I heard a squeak followed by one bark! Oh how sweet the sound! I got out to the living room, and of course Georgia was back on her bed looking very scared, but one of the squeaky toy was tossed smack dab in the middle of a puddle of her pee on the wee-wee pads. I told that incident to the rescue, and we all cried. Nobody knew up until then if Georgia was mute or not because she had never made a sound before then. From then on, I would hear squeaks and toys being tossed around everywhere, and Georgia running around.

Georgia was getting more comfortable with me as well, so she approached her food while I was still in the living room. She lowered her head to reach for the food, but her eyes were moving in all directions. She took a mouthful, looked around frantically, ran back to her bed and started eating off the bed. This process would continue until the bowl was empty. Oh how painful to see that! Every single moment of her life, she was afraid for her life. She was afraid to eat, drink, sleep, pee or do anything. I don’t know how many times I layed next to her (who was trying to avoid looking at me) and talked to her, crying my heart out, “how can I make you understand it’s safe here and I won’t do anything to hurt you?”

But she was getting better. Slowly but surely. As she was getting more comfortable, I had to deal with more of scrubbing the carpet because now, instead of staying on the bed and pooping, she would run around letting her poop out. The thing was that when she poops out of fear, the poop isn’t solid at all and Georgia running back and forth didn’t help either. Her poop would be smeared all over and sometimes kicked onto sofas and things. Everything scared her, people talking outside, noise from upstairs, cars, everything… For a couple of months, I had to spend at least 3 hours a day scrubbing the floor. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming with my chronic back pain, and I broke down and cried a couple of times. But on the other hand, her poop was getting more solid, not as much, and she’started wagging her tail when I came back from work. She wouldn’t approach me, and she would still let some poop out, but she was happy to see me while being scared at the same time. Then one day she started to do this bucking horse impression – she was jumping from joy, but having only left front leg, she looked like a horse bucking in a circle.

Everyday since then was just like seeing a puppy grow up. When she made her teeth marks on my remote control rendering it useless, I was jumping up and down with happiness! When she started to take treats directly out of my hand, I said ‘YES’ so loud I scared her… oops. When she finally decided to come up to my bed and make herself comfortable, I shed tears of joy. When she started to pull my socks out of somewhere, I’d laugh and cry. When she play bit my big behind for the first time while I was cleaning up the wee-wee pads, I was as happy as a clam. When she finally decided that she wanted to sit next to me on the chair, that was heaven for me. When she play-attacked me when I was sitting down and watching TV, that was like playing fetch with her. When I was bitten by a dog on my hand, she sat down and licked my hand endlessly.

When my friend visited a few weeks ago, instead of hopping into the bathtub as she usually did when a friend came over, she decided she’d be right next to me! I don’t know if anybody coule imagine the happiness I felt!!!

Georgia is still nervous when I get up and walk around; she tries very hard not to be in front of me, but she does try to play-bite my butt! Well, who can blame her my butt is so big it’s so bitable! And yes, she still uses wee-wee pads and still poops if my friends visit, but she tries very hard to get to the wee-wee pads! How sweet is that? She comes to me if I’m sitting, to get a good scratch around her neck. She comes to me with her tail wagging when I eat French fries. She plays with her toys, and yes destroyed a number of them. And she’s off Prozac.

The founder of the rescue I got her from once told me that people were trying to convince her to put Georgia to sleep claiming that it’s the most humane thing to do in Georgia’s case because she didn’t want to live. She sent them video clips I took of Georgia playing with her toys attacking, tossing, and shaking them around. Did somebody say that Georgia didn’t want to live? — May 2004