The Dog Days Of Winter: A Twisted Tail (Tale)...

In case you missed it, on January 9th I came into the kitchen to find my beloved Billy, 13.5 year old terrier, doing a rather poor job of being alive. This is the exciting sequel, a journey that took more twists and turns than expected.

Rickey Hounderson

We always knew there would be a “next dog” and so instead of just grieving and moping over the unexpected loss of Billy, that same morning I began searching for possible rescues we could meet.

In Woodland (near Davis) there was an adorable looking 18 month old labrador retriever who went by the name Rocky. Long story slightly shorter, we took him home and renamed him Rickey Hounderson.

His first full day with us was 24 days after the passing of Rickey Henderson. Coincidence? Well, obviously. The two Rickeys were never going to be confused for one another as the dog version was not much of an athlete. Not only did he track a fly ball worse than Esteury Ruiz, he didn’t even know how to walk quite right even though he ran with ease — but he splayed his front legs out more than necessary.

So I asked his foster, who is also a vet, what that unusual gait was about and she casually replied that she thought it was a neurological issue perhaps relating to lack of oxygen at birth. She said we should watch for seizures. Apparently the day we adopted Rickey, Sesame Street’s secret word was not ‘disclosure’.

Meanwhile, Rickey showed some troubling characteristics. He adjusted almost too well to our home as if he didn’t really mind where he was or with whom so long as he could eat, play, and run. He didn’t bond with any of us, nor did he seem at all like a lab in terms of caring what we wanted. He was wild and not very trainable. Likely this was part of a bigger neurological glitch.

To cut to the chase (and he loved to chase), while the baseball player’s career was 24 years (there’s that number again!), the dog’s career with us lasted only 11 days upon which he was traded to the Yankees (the Woodland Yankees). He sealed the deal with “the incident” with Crumpet...

Crumpet

Crumpet is a 9-month old, 12 pound mix of terrier and miniature schnauzer who was hanging out in Clayton (near Walnut Creek). Not unlike the British toast this dog is “jolly good!” and we brought him home one week into the “Rickey era” — our first foray into being a 2-dog household.

A bit skittish and unsure at first, Crumpet quickly adjusted to us and his new home, and initially he and Rickey were fast friends racing around the house chasing and playing. If anything Crumpet, though much smaller, seemed like the one who initiated play a lot of the time.

Then came “the incident” when the two dogs were, as they had done before, playing by tugging at opposite ends of a chew toy under the kitchen table. Suddenly, Rickey snapped and gave an aggressive lunge at Crumpet, causing Crumpet to yelp repeatedly in fear and take refuge behind us. The rest of the morning — Rickey’s last hours with us — Crumpet would not go near Rickey.

Crumpet is easy to love. He’s friendly, full of life, cute and cuddly, and he has a lot to say. Now about that 2-dog household...I guess once you subtract a dog you may as well go ahead and add one...

Lobo

Lobo is a compelling story. We understand his owner’s house burned down in the Palisades fires and he was surrendered to the local shelter. But with the preponderance of homeless pooches displaced from the fires, this 3-year old terrier — known as “Wolf” at the shelter — was scheduled to be euthanized to make room for a wave of “fire dogs” who were arriving.

“Wolf,” renamed Lobo (“wolf” in Spanish), was rescued by the Milo Foundation in Point Richmond where I saw his adorable photos and sad tale and arranged to meet him. His foster explained that he was quite shy at first and took a while to warm up, to which I thought, “Eh, we just went through that with Crumpet, it’s no big deal.”

We took Lobo home last Thursday and it was a couple days like no other. Lobo was like a frightened cat, scurrying desperately away from any of the 3 of us and in a house as big as ours it was easy to get away.

I tried luring him with pieces of meat and while thankfully meat is very tempting for him, at first the best I could do is get him to come halfway to me if I left the treat on the floor. Our first breakthrough was when in one of his attempts the flee the horror of my love and food, Lobo went into the downstairs bathroom where the far door was already closed.

So when I put myself in the doorway, Lobo was trapped. I got down on the floor and slowly inched closer, wondering if a trapped and frightened animal would bite me. But he didn’t. He reluctantly let me get close enough to reach out slowly and touch his belly, which I then stroked, followed by the famous “earsies”.

As successful as that was, when allowed to Lobo scurried off and the next time we crossed paths he took off like I was the euthanizer. Eventually I lured him with a piece of meat he came all the way to take from my hand and we had another love fest, after which he ran away from me for the next few hours. This repeated about 4-5 times.

2 days of this and then slowly but surely changes started to happen. At night he jumped on my mom’s bed and decided that’s where wanted to sleep, even though he had treated her like the dog catcher by day. Then he stayed on the couch when one of us sat there, even if he slid over the outer most reaches.

Crumpet and Lobo’s first walk together, on a Point Pinole trail, was the next key turning point. When we parked the car Lobo was eager to jump out, and at first I wondered if he was motivated by “getting away” but then I noticed his tail was wagging furiously. No, he wasn’t keen to leave the car or us so much as he was keen to explore the trail.

And that entire walk, he actually acted like a dog. He sniffed, he marked, he explored, he relaxed. It was almost as if we had adopted a dog.

And then he decided to go “all in” with me, almost like a switch flipped. Over the weekend not only did he let me approach him, he followed me everywhere seeking love and attention and wanted to know where the heck I was if I left. Considering he has still been here less than a week, I can say, with relief, that he is going to be ok.

In the article’s photo Crumpet is on the left, Lobo is on the right. The Eyeball Scout report is official: “Both are good dogs, yes they are!”