DogTown (24 page)

Ann Allums and Meryl’s bond is instrumental to helping Meryl become more comfortable with new people and new situations.

Even so, Meryl would reveal to John and Jeff a frightening side of her personality. As part of their on-site evaluations, John was walking Meryl on a leash to see how she reacted to several different situations. During the assessment, the pair came upon Jeff, who reached down to pet Meryl on her head. Suddenly, she lunged at him and snapped; Jeff quickly pulled his hand away in time to avoid a bite.

In other circumstances, after an incident like this Meryl might have been branded a dangerous dog and euthanized. But the Dogtown team made a great attempt to understand the incident from Meryl’s point of view. Luckily for them, a videographer from Best Friends was on-site and caught the encounter on tape, giving animal behaviorists a way to study what might have triggered Meryl’s attack.

The footage showed how Meryl and John were walking together and then approached Jeff, who reached down to greet her. Moments earlier, Meryl had been wagging her tail and checking people out, but when Jeff lowered his hand near her head, her entire body froze. Then Meryl lunged and snapped as Jeff pulled his hand back. It was clear from the tape that Meryl felt threatened by Jeff’s seemingly harmless gesture. Though people often reach over and pet a dog on top of the head, many dogs, especially fearful, traumatized ones like Meryl, may be threatened by that movement. In the past, it might have meant that someone was coming to grab their collar.

But something else became obvious when the videotape was shown: Meryl was surrounded by a group of men, all towering above her—not unlike the situation in a typical dogfighting ring. It scared her, and she lashed out. The assessment revealed that one of her triggers was fear of strangers. Despite this incident, Dogtown remained committed to Meryl and her rehabilitation. She made the trip from Virginia to Utah without incident.

PASSING THE BATON

When Meryl first arrived at Dogtown, it became clear that strangers scared her; she showed a lot of fear-based behavior when a new person approached her dog run. Behind the fence of her enclosure, she paced and then threatened with loud, aggressive barks and snarls. The sight of Meryl close to her fence, barking and growling, was, to say the least, unsettling. Meryl’s scary behavior, called barrier aggression, may be triggered by two things. First, it may be based on her frustration at being trapped behind a barrier and unable to get out. Second, in addition to being the source of her frustration, the fence may have given her some added bravado, since she knew she could snarl, bark, or lunge against it without actually having to deliver on any of her implied threats. This sort of classic barrier aggression, which is at least partly a function of the fence, often results in dogs’ being put down in shelters. Potential adopters are intimidated by the barking and overlook the dog.

Another troubling aspect of Meryl’s behavior was that she continued to be distrustful of most people even after her arrival at Dogtown. She would warily eye anyone who approached her, and in a few instances, she even snapped at caregivers. Because of Meryl’s fear of new people, Dogtown staff went to great lengths to make sure that strangers did not deal with the dog. She wore a red collar, signifying that only staff (and not volunteers) could handle her. Seeing that Meryl had a lot of fear to work through, the Dogtown team decided to take it slow with her, to help build up trust and confidence.

One bright spot was that Meryl had learned to trust one person, John Garcia, during the three weeks he had spent working with her before the move to Utah. Frightened of most people, she became attached to this one particular person because he took the time to build a relationship with her. But John was not going to be Meryl’s main trainer at Dogtown; because of her positive attitude, fun methods, and gentle manner, Ann Allums had received the assignment. So from the first day he arrived back in Dogtown, John began working to transfer the trust he had developed with Meryl to Ann, in a process like a relay racer handing off a baton.

Ann welcomed the chance to work with Meryl, as she, too, had a special fondness for pit bulls. “I’m just all the time blown away by how sweet pitties are with people,” she says. “And friendly. They just want to please you, they want your attention, they want your petting. They want to just get in your space and sit in your lap and kiss your face, for the most part.” But Ann knew that it would take time to bring out the loving side of Meryl, who would have to become familiar and comfortable with her new trainer before she would blossom.

At first, Ann just watched Meryl from a distance, and she noticed two big things. First, she could see how frightened Meryl was of this new place and of all these new people; Meryl still seemed uneasy and uncomfortable, always on guard when strangers were around. The second thing Ann observed was that John was the only one Meryl seemed to welcome or feel comfortable with. Ann noticed Meryl watching John wherever he went. If John started walking away from the dog, she would panic as if she were thinking, Where are you going? You’re my person! When John approached her run, Meryl would get so excited, Ann remembered. “But John, of course, couldn’t be looking after Meryl 24/7. He needed to start passing that trust along to me, right away.”

For Ann and Meryl’s “first date,” John took Meryl out for a walk and invited Ann along. Ann just quietly walked along beside John and Meryl. She took things slowly, not trying to interact with the dog by petting her. She didn’t even look at her, because that could have been threatening to Meryl. The strategy was to slowly get Meryl accustomed to Ann’s presence, so that she didn’t see Ann as a stranger.

“I am patient,” Ann said. “I didn’t want to rush the situation.” (Ann is perhaps a bit too modest. Dogtown vet Dr. Patti Iampietro once said of Ann’s ability to train dogs: “If they had opposable thumbs, she could teach them to do the dishes.”)

Gradually, Ann’s strategy began to pay off as Meryl got used to her being around. After a few days, Ann took the leash from John and walked along with Meryl. She still kept her hands off the dog because she didn’t want to scare Meryl and knew that such an action could overwhelm her. A few times, Meryl turned around and gave Ann a look that seemed to say, Who are you? I don’t know you. Ann just dropped her eyes and remained calm.

Ann knew well enough that the best way to show a dog like Meryl that she was a nice person was by just leaving her alone and respecting her space. Eventually, in good time, and when Meryl was ready, she became curious about her new friend. She started by cautiously sniffing Ann. A day later, when she sniffed Ann again, her tail started wagging. Ann had shown, through patience and reserve, by waiting until Meryl came to
her,
that she was a friend, not a foe.

As Meryl’s confidence has grown, she has become friends with more and more people.

Ann’s next step was to start giving Meryl treats through the fence, in the hopes that Meryl would associate good things, like food, with her new trainer. It seemed to work. Before too long Meryl started wagging her tail when she saw Ann coming at a distance. The walks and treats continued until Ann felt that Meryl was ready for the next step: having her enter the dog run.

The first time Ann stepped into the enclosure with Meryl, she was “cautiously realistic,” she said. “I took it really slowly.” The dog was, after all, a fighting dog who had been neglected and abused, and had a history of lunging at people and being fearful of new situations. Ann was not a new person, but her presence in Meryl’s run was new. It was best to proceed with caution for everyone’s sake.

At first Meryl just stood still, looking at Ann head-on. It was a tense moment, but Ann stayed relaxed and loose. Meryl stood her ground while Ann talked and murmured at her, not moving either, patiently waiting for Meryl to approach her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a treat but did not move any closer. Then it was Meryl’s turn, melting out of her rigid stance, dropping her head and moving close enough to take the treat out of Ann’s hand. “Good girl, Meryl,” praised Ann, rewarding Meryl with a treat and a compliment. Meryl relaxed and before long was following Ann around with eager eyes. Built on a safe history together, they’d begun the next stage of their partnership and were ready to move forward together.

The handoff of trust was complete.

OVERCOMING MERYL’S FEARS

Ann understood that fear was Meryl’s biggest obstacle and the cause of some of her scariest behavior. Even though she had formed a strong relationship with Ann, Meryl was still afraid of new people, and she was afraid of her new surroundings. Even when Ann picked up a new object—a silly Sponge-Bob SquarePants stuffed toy or a grooming brush—Meryl would shy away from the object at first, and only after some coaxing would she lay her ears back and lean in very slowly to investigate. Meryl’s body would stay tense, as though ready to bolt at the slightest threat. It was more than a little comical: the pitiless “superpredator” getting ready to flee from a plush, squeaky toy.

“I definitely see Meryl as a dog that we can help,” Ann said. “Because everyone she comes in contact with here is good for her. We’re gentle with her. We’re not threatening to her. And she’s a real staff favorite. We’re teaching her things that are going to make her a great pet for someone someday, a great companion.” Teaching Meryl to overcome fear would be Ann’s primary task as a trainer, and Meryl’s primary task as a potential companion animal living in the world of humans.

The first step, now that Meryl trusted Ann, would be to develop something called a Life Care Plan for her. The basic idea of a Life Care Plan is simple: to do everything possible to enrich a dog’s life for however long he or she stays at Dogtown.

The Life Care Plan documents the activities in the dog’s life: how often they get out with volunteers and staff, how often they are walked and taken on outings and car rides, and all the training aspects of their life as well. It documents the dog’s progress in learning basic skills, what kinds of rewards they like (treats, toys, etc.), and the speed at which they make progress. If the dog’s caregiver moves to some other part of Dogtown, the Life Care Plan, in the form of a fat file, stays with the dog. When a new caregiver takes over training of the dog, he or she can read the chart and pick up where the previous trainer left off. It’s an attempt to collect and share information with the large number of people that may be working with any dog, and to chart all the dog’s training progress, activities, goals, and plans.

Of course, at Michael Vick’s Bad Newz Kennels, Meryl and the other fighting dogs also had a “life care plan” of sorts. It’s just that the life care plan was one of sadistic aggression training, fear, deprivation, and punishment. Animals were kept chained in kennels, isolated from contact with dogs and humans alike—not really a life at all. They were taken out of their kennels only to breed, to train, or to fight. This plan taught the dogs to be fearful and aggressive and to expect nothing from life. The most remarkable thing about it was that so many of these dogs emerged with their spirits and the ability to trust humans intact.

But when Meryl came to Dogtown, still fearful, jumpy, and mistrustful, her trainers began designing a Life Care Plan for her that would help her to become all she could be. “If a dog is going to be here for their whole life, or just a few weeks, or even a few days, we’re going to do what we can to enrich their life,” Ann said. “This isn’t just a place to warehouse dogs. We’re going to make sure that we meet their needs, that we’ve worked with them, that we give them a quality life. And so the enrichment involves everything from quality food to medical care, physical exercise, mental exercise, rest, socialization, and going to new places. We try to provide that for every dog here.”

The Life Care Plan was something Ann was instrumental in organizing at Dogtown. She helped develop a system to organize information about each individual dog, and then this system progressed into a way of providing each dog at the sanctuary with an individualized, customized life plan. “Every afternoon, the caregivers sit down and talk about each dog and chart in their plan how they’re progressing. We share with each other, ‘Oh, I saw this today in Willie, I saw this in Meryl.’ And all of us are interested to hear what’s going on with the other dogs, with different people and different situations. It’s just a great learning experience, a great sharing experience. We make sure we’re on the right track for enriching their lives, and for sharing the good news about a dog’s great success on that particular day.”