When Training is Just Not Enough

This is Willie.  Willie died today.  It wasn’t his fault, but still, he’s at the Bridge now waiting for his person.  It’ll be another 40 to 50 years but one day they will be together again.  Willie will wait for him because he is a good dog.  He is sweet and loving and loyal and affectionate.  He is loved.  He has a family who is crying and will miss him forever.  So, why did Willie get only two short years on this earth?

He was in a high-kill shelter in Alabama when a rescue in New York pulled him off of death row.  Nobody is sure how he ended up there.  Considering that he had no manners it’s likely that he was feral and had to fend for himself for most of his life.  He was taken to a veterinarian then to a foster family before he was adopted by a family in New Jersey this past December. 

Oh, what a Christmas that must have been!  Mom, Dad, two kids and their existing dog joyously welcomed Willie into their family.  They bought him beds and toys and really good food and they loved him.  They loved him so very much.  As he settled into his new family he showed them his appreciation with affection and lots of puppy kisses.  He loved them as much as they loved him. 

And then it happened.

Willie bit Grandpa.  His dad tells me he should have been paying better attention and that he should have stopped it.  But then Willie bit again.  Then he jumped over the fence to chase a deer and didn’t come home until 4 AM.  He was out for a walk with his Mom when he lunged at another dog.  Willie’s bad manners and scary attitude started rubbing off on the other dog in the house.

Willie’s parents had a serious talk about if theirs was really the forever home for him.  They decided to send him to me for a couple of weeks of intensive training.  They so wanted it to work, they wanted him to learn good manners and to come back home confident that he would not to hurt people or animals and to stop escaping.  Their daughter sent me the sweetest note through her Dad’s facebook messenger:

Dear Ms. Semuta, Thank you for helping our dog, Willie.  I know you are going to teach him good manners.  Please don’t teach him not to lick our faces.  I like that.  Your friend, L*

Ever the teacher, I wrote back:

Dear L*,

I promise to take very good care of Willie and teach him all the very best manners.  I also promise that you want him to lick your face or your hands or your toes or even your bellybutton he will still do that!  You promise me that while Willie is at school with me that you will work hard in school at home and when you are all back together you will both be so proud of all your hard work. 😊

Your friend,
Zia

Willie arrived on a bright and sunny Saturday morning.  I had coached his family through muzzle training him so that I wouldn’t be another hand on his rap sheet.  We took him for a walk in the park with my dogs and another graduate of the program.  He was amazing.  He wasn’t sure what to think of the collars I put on him but he caught on and was soon enjoying his new friends without the muzzle.  His Dad drove back to New Jersey with my assurance that he would be a well-mannered gentleman by the time he returned in two weeks to pick him up. 

He was amazing.  For over a week he fit right into my pack and learned the rules.  He obeyed my commands and passed all of his milestones.  He earned privileges and began setting an example.  I kept wondering why his parents sent him to me.  He was such a nice boy! 

On Day 10 Willie showed me why he was here.

He attacked another dog.

It’s that simple.  He was not provoked.  He was not in fear for his life and as much as I wanted it to be something I missed he did it because he snapped.  He gave me no warning, gave no indication that something was wrong.  I so wanted it to be my fault.  I wanted to have made some mistake because if it was me then I could fix it.  The other dog was taken to the vet where they cleaned him up and gave him some anti-biotics. He is fine and Willie went right back to his happy-go-lucky self. So, no harm, no foul, right? 

Wrong. 

Now, I didn’t trust him.  Now, I was afraid. I replayed the incident over and over in my head. I kept trying to remember some little twitch or tell that I had missed. I had missed it before, what if I miss it again? 

No more group class or lessons for Willie until I did some research.  I reached out to my peers on the internet for their thoughts, I spoke at length about him with Jeff and JoElle from Solid K9 Training when they came to visit my class a few days later.  I kept searching for the thing I missed that could have stopped it from happening.  I really wanted to have missed something.

There was none. 

I hadn’t missed a sign or a twitch or a tell.  Willie gave no warning, he just attacked.  I set him up.  I created an environment in which he was likely to react the same way again.  He fell right into my trap.  This time, I saw his tell.  He was obviously loading and I corrected him using the nuclear option.  He passed the next test with flying colors!

Again, no harm, no foul, right?  Willie was fixed.  We found the problem and we fixed it!

No.

See, here’s the thing.  No matter how well I taught him manners and how well he passed the tests I set up for him I could not shake that nagging feeling that he never gave me a warning before he attacked the other dog.  He just didn’t.  I could not look his family in the eye and tell him that he wouldn’t do it again.  I wrestled with my conscience but kept thinking about the little girl who wrote me that sweet note and the little boy who was afraid that when Willie left he would never come back.  And I thought about their other dog and their Mom who was so terrified when she took him for a walk.  He had learned all of his commands and even graduated but I took a long, hard look in the mirror and then I spoke the words out loud.  The kindest thing for Willie is to euthanize him.

I couldn’t recommend he goes back to live in a family who was now afraid of him.  I could teach them all of the commands and how to use the e-collar properly.  I could coach them on high-risk situations and how to balance praise and discipline.  The one thing I could not do is tell them why he did it and how to tell when he will do it again.

His Dad and I spoke briefly about re-homing him but I couldn’t ask another family to take on that risk, either.  I still can’t tell when he might snap again.  A sanctuary, perhaps?  A dangerous dog rescue?  For this 15# little terrier mix who wants to snuggle and love 99% of the time, is that a life?  Isolated in a kennel with minimal human interaction?  His little mind and soul are already tormented; that environment will only exacerbate the problem.  It’s not only about who Willie might hurt next but also about how badly Willie himself is hurting. The stress and mental torture of needing to fight the urge to be violent is astronomical. The kindest thing for Willie is to release him from his demons and to let him go. 

He’s now at peace.  He is no longer in pain.  His demons have been exorcised and his little soul is free.  I was there; Pony and I took him home to New Jersey and we spent the day with him and his Dad.  When the time came, I went into the hospital with them and I enveloped him with as much love as I had to give.  I bore witness to his crossing and I was in agony.  I ugly cried tears of anguish when his little soul slipped out of his body as his heart stopped beating. 

It was the right thing to do.  It was the hardest thing but it was the right thing.  I wish I could have given him a better life than whatever it was that affected his mind so severely.  I really, really wanted to fix him but he was just too far gone.  All of the obedience and love in the world could not unbreak his psyche and so letting him go was the last thing we could do for him.  Willie died today and he took a little piece of my heart with him.

Love & Belly Rubs, Zia