Therapy Dog

I had my first therapy dog visit with Max.

It was a disaster.

We went to an adult family home for people with dementia. This is a place in our neighborhood that we have passed on our walks and I would say to Max, "Some day when you're a therapy dog, we're going to visit there!" And so I went and visited the manager last week. She was very sweet and delighted to have us come.

On Friday I washed and brushed Max. Did the same with myself. It was a beautiful sunny day. Janet met us at the gate and showed us how to open all the locks and gate handles. We walked in and she introduced us. Smiles from all the staff. Most of the residents were quietly looking off into space or down at the floor.

So how was I to know there was a cat behind the Barcalounger?

The cat peeked his head around the corner and Max saw him. Max went wild barking and the cat streaked across the room. I felt as if I had a Tasmanian devil on the end of the leash. Some of the residents looked over at us and more distressing, some of them were completely unfazed.

I apologized profusely and took him out. I felt like a parent whose child is throwing a tantrum in the grocery store. Now I understand why parents give in and hand the child an open box of Lucky Charms. Anything to stop the madness.

I calmed him down and we returned to the house. That is I thought I calmed him down. There was a terra cotta pig sitting by the door and Max saw it and began what I can describe only as "scream barking." After a few seconds he stopped as it dawned on him the pig was not real. Now it was his turn to be embarrassed.

The manager was completely unruffled. She invited us to come to another one of her adult family homes a few blocks away. That visit went better as there was no cat, but one of the residents kept trying to feed Max a pine cone. He made the biggest impression on the staff, all of whom want us to visit again.

We will. As soon as I recover.

Attack!

A terrible thing happened last Sunday night. Max and I were out for our usual evening walk and he was attacked by a pit bull terrier.

We have walked past that house hundreds of times and I have never seen this dog.
I found out today that he was in the garage and his owner opened the garage door and he shot out. He didn't growl or bark, but I heard him coming, turned around and he attacked. It happened in a heartbeat.

The next thing I know, he has got Max in his mouth and OFF THE GROUND. Of course scrappy little Max is fighting like crazy. I did not know what to do. Honestly, I'm great in an emergency. I can do CPR. I took life saving and could probably rescue someone from drowning. But Sunday night was different. And I remembered what Max's teacher Judi said about how terriers will fight to the death. (Max and Wes and I are in a class for him to be a Therapy Dog.)

It was like two Tasmanian devils and all I could do was scream. And I screamed and screamed and screamed. I was afraid to let go of the leash because I thought then he could run and I wouldn't be able to find him. After a while I couldn't even watch any more. I was sure Max was being killed. This was one of the most horrible and violent experiences I have ever had.

I screamed so loud and so long that a couple on the next block leaped in their
car and drove over. Finally a young woman came out of the house, pulled her dog
off Max and punched her dog in the face and shouted, "What are you doing?!"

I have NEVER in my life been hysterical. Until Sunday night. I picked up Max and was sobbing uncontrollably. All I could say was, "Oh, my God. Oh, my God," over and over again.

By that time lots of neighbors came out and one of them screamed at the woman
about the dog. The dog owner said, "This dog is going to the pound tomorrow!"

One of the neighbors said, "That's what you've said before!"

I walked under a street light and put Max on the ground. He could walk and everyone said, "Oh, he's okay." But then we saw all the blood. Janet and David, the nice couple from the next street over took us to the emergency vet on Lake City Way. The pit bull owner never even came out to see if we were okay. She just disappeared.

I called the police and they came took a statement from me. They went to the dog's house and talked to the owner. Gulp.

Max spent the night in the hospital. Poor Wes arrived around midnight to all this craziness. But I had a sexy hoarse voice from all that screaming! So you know what we did? No, no, we were way too upset and exhausted for that. We opened a box of chocolate truffles and began eating them one by one!!! So therapeutic. Life saving, actually.

When they brought Max out to me the next afternoon I almost fainted. Thank God Judi was with me. He was shaved from the shoulders down and had five Penrose drains in him. I had no idea how many lacerations he had. He looks like someone took a knife to him.

He is such a little trooper. He never made sound, not a whimper. I'm happy to tell you that today is he is doing well. Well, right at this moment he is okay because he is sitting in Wes's lap. Yesterday was another story.

He was shaking and shivering and crying and we thought he was septic. We went back to the emergency vet and they thought his wounds looked fine but that his pain was out of control despite the meds I gave him. So they put on a Fentanyl patch and now he is totally stoned, but feeling no pain. I'm still applying the hot compresses every three hours to let the wounds drain.

Animal Control came over today and had me write down what happened. While I was doing that they went and took the dog. Then came back here and I had to go out to the truck to identify him.

Oh, my God, I had no idea how upsetting that would be! First of all, it was creepy to see the dog, but then I felt so bad for him because he was scared and whimpering and pooped in his cage and had bad owners who didn't train him.

But you know what? They told me that both this dog and their other pit bull already have one report on them. They got out and attacked a dog in it's yard. That is so sad!!!! The owners would not voluntarily let this dog be put down, so I asked Animal Control to issue a citation. I'll go to court to keep this from happening to anyone again. My guess is that once owners realize that they have to pay kennel fees to animal control while we wait for a trial, they will agree to euthanasia.

So we have LOTS for which to be thankful. If Max hadn't fought back, he'd be dead. If I had let go of the leash, the pit bull would have carried Max off and killed him. He had puncture wound right under his eye, but not in his eye.

And, oh, yeah--the next day I went to see my oncologist and found out that my MRI was clear, my osteoporosis is a teeny-weeny bit better and that my Amazing Boss was incredibly understanding about me taking the week off to stay home with Max.

We are blessed.