DogTown (3 page)

In the first half of the 20th century, pit bulls—like Pete the Pup from the
Our Gang
movie series—were considered ideal family pets.

As John and the rest of the team first observed the Vick dogs, it quickly became obvious that few had ever been walked on a leash, much less washed, groomed, or shown large amounts of human affection. In effect, they had been living in something like solitary confinement, through no fault of their own. Such undersocialization had left the majority of them full of fear and anxiety.

As a group, the dogs were “incredibly shut down and traumatized,” John said. Some also demonstrated what he called “fear-based aggression,” meaning that their belligerence was largely rooted in their sense of fear and anxiety. In short, they were scary because they were scared. They also demonstrated almost no socialization with other dogs. They’d been kept on chains or in kennels, apart from all other dogs, trained only to fight other dogs to stay alive. They were neglected, abused, brutalized animals forced to express only a narrow range of “emotion”: ferocity and aggression.

Even so, John said, “Dogs are very resilient—
way
more resilient than humans. I’ve seen dogs that have come through horrendous experiences, from the dog pit to the war in Lebanon, but if you give them food, water, shelter, and love, they’ll do anything for you. They just seem to be able to get over things. People give up much more easily. But dogs can be tied up on a chain their whole life, and still be trusting and willing to please.”

Like many a good love story, John and Georgia’s began at first sight. As John observed the 22 dogs, making initial assessments of their behavior and personalities, his heart went out to all of them. But when he first saw the tawny brown female with the dark muzzle and white blaze on her chest, he took a shine to her immediately. But she played hard to get: John entered her enclosure, only to find Georgia aloof and distant. At first, she pretended not to notice him at all, as if she were so highborn that this lowly peasant was invisible. (John later nicknamed her the Diva.) But then their eyes met, and it was all over for both of them.

“And, I swear, it was like my heart just melted,” John recalled. Even though he was there to conduct an assessment—and thus was being only a neutral observer of the dog’s behavior—he couldn’t resist reaching down and scratching Georgia behind her short, cropped ears. The big brown dog looked up at him with her warm brown eyes. Then she rolled onto her back with her paws in the air and presented her belly for more.

But Georgia’s affectionate demeanor masked problems that would threaten her chances of finding a forever home. She displayed severe aggression toward other dogs, which was probably caused by her past status as a champion fighter. Georgia literally had had to fight other dogs for her very life, and working through that trauma could prove difficult. Georgia also showed signs of food aggression, a form of behavior in which a dog will growl, snarl, and eventually bite to protect its food. She also displayed some problems with handling and would need to learn to walk on a leash. But Georgia’s love for John could be her salvation if it could motivate her enough so that these problems could be solved.

The Dogtown team spent several weeks in Virginia to continue to get to know each of the 22 dogs. The extra time helped give them a deeper sense of the dogs’ personalities and problems, while creating a bond that would help ease the dogs’ transitions when they were transported to their new homes in Utah. This remarkable group of survivors demonstrated the tremendous heart and soul of a dog. At Best Friends, they would come to be known as the Vicktory Dogs, as a nod to both their past and the happier, healthier life that awaited them at Dogtown.

On January 2, 2008, Georgia and the other dogs were loaded into carrying crates and stowed aboard a small cargo plane in Virginia. Everything went very smoothly during the five-hour trip to Utah. “I was more nervous than they were,” John said, as he went back into the hold to do visual checks every half hour. It was still daylight when the plane landed in Kanab, only a few miles from Dogtown. By the time they got the dogs off the plane and safely resettled in their runs at the sanctuary, it was two in the morning and John was exhausted.

In contrast, the dogs seemed newly revived—excited and somewhat unsettled by their new environment. But there was no mistaking Georgia’s mood. In the dim glow of the compound’s security lights, John could see her taking her favorite toy bone and flipping it up into the air over and over again. Once consigned to a kind of half life of isolation, blood, barbarity, and forced breeding, Georgia was now playing like a pup.

She was home.

ROAD TO REHABILITATION

Now that Georgia had arrived at Dogtown, she began the hard work of overcoming her past. For John, one of the primary tasks for Georgia’s rehabilitation was helping her get over her food guarding. When Georgia ate from a bowl, her stocky body lowered close to the ground while she scarfed down her food. If a person approached, she would look up, growl, and curl her lips back in a snarl, warning the intruder to stay away from her bowl. Georgia never attacked anybody from Dogtown, but her handlers still proceeded with caution. In fact, before the Dogtown team’s arrival, the ASPCA had made assessment videotapes by giving each dog a bowl of food and then trying to take it away using a mechanical arm. Georgia first snarled and then viciously attacked the false arm.

The playful side of Georgia has emerged since she’s come to Dogtown. Her bone is one of her favorite toys.

It’s not unusual for dogs to guard their food, John said. But if they are raised in environments where food resources are scarce—for instance, in a slum, a war zone, or a kennel for fighting dogs—their guarding behavior can be genuinely dangerous, especially when they transfer to a new environment, such as a home with young children. If a stray piece of food hits the floor, and both the child and the dog go after it, a tragedy can result. Since the goal is to find an adoptive home for Georgia and dogs like her, helping them overcome food aggression is a critical step.

The first technique John tried with Georgia was hand-feeding her her dinner. The theory is that instead of allowing her to associate food (which needs to be guarded) with the bowl, she would associate food with people (which reinforces the idea that good things come from people, not bowls). John explained, “You are controlling all the food in their life, and you can give it to them whenever you want. You can take it away from them whenever you want, but it’s always going to be available to them. They don’t have to feel like they always have to fight for it because it may not be coming again.”

In one of their first feedings, John carried a bowl of food into Georgia’s enclosure. Rather than setting the bowl on the floor, he dipped his fingers into the dog food and scooped it out into his hand. Instead of taking large gulping bites, as she would from a bowl, Georgia very gently, but enthusiastically, began licking the food off his fingers. When she finished, Georgia sat patiently and calmly, still watching John intently with her alert, intelligent eyes. John scooped out another batch of food, and dinner continued. Gradually, over a period of two months, this approach broke Georgia’s association between bowl and food, leaving her with nothing left to guard.

John also used another technique called trading up. The idea is simple: If the dog has a zealously guarded, high-value object, like a rawhide bone, you distract her with something that is even more valuable—say, a juicy piece of hot dog. You “trade up” to something more attractive and thus break the guarding behavior with that particular object. Every dog has different high-value objects, so a trainer must work with each one to find out what it is. Georgia responded to both these training techniques very rapidly. She was bright and eager to please. Today, said John, “Georgia, I’m proud to say, does not have any food-guarding issues with people that she knows.”

Still, he knows that his goal of rehabilitating Georgia, a champion fighter forced to kill in order to survive, will be difficult and slow. “In order to rehabilitate a dog with a traumatic past, you have to have patience,” John said. “You have to ‘go big or go home.’ You have to really commit to it.

“I feel so bad for her, put in all those terrible situations by people,” he added. But he is determined to change that. There’s no way to completely erase her traumatic past, but John can ensure that her future is a loving one. “It’s all about loving on her—that’s something she never experienced. Dog training is not all about love, but that’s a big part of it.”

As of this writing, Georgia is still at Dogtown. Her journey to adoption still has a few miles left to go, partly because she is still aggressive toward other dogs and not entirely comfortable with children. “Georgia and all the other dogs have a lot to overcome—not just behavior they learned in the fighting pit, but the fact that they’re pit bulls, they’re fighting dogs, and they’re Michael Vick’s pit bulls…. But tails, teeth, eyes, and heart—they’re all just dogs.”

LIFE AS A SPOKESDOG

Georgia’s rehabilitation has gone so well that she is becoming a leading spokesdog for the rehabilitation potential of pit bulls and other bully breeds. When making public appearances, Georgia dresses up for the occasion. Her everyday green collar and leash are replaced by a special matching pink leather collar and leash encrusted with Swarovski crystals. When Georgia wears her sparkly collar, people seem more at ease with her, as though the stylish accent indicates that she’s a nice dog. Georgia herself loves her pink collar and shows her exuberant side when she sees it, for she’s smart enough to know that when it comes out, something fun is going to happen.

The pink collar was in full view when Georgia wore it to the set of the
Ellen
show in December 2008. Host Ellen DeGeneres, a big fan of Best Friends and
DogTown,
had invited Georgia and John Garcia to Los Angeles to appear on her show. Despite John’s experience in filming
DogTown
for the National Geographic Channel, appearing on an afternoon talk show unnerved him.

“I was really, really nervous,” he said when he and Georgia were driven down to Los Angeles for a taping of the television show. But Georgia handled it like an old pro. Almost oblivious to the audience and bright studio lights, Georgia sat at John’s feet while slurping down treats from Ellen’s hands and then, somewhat greedily, looking for more. John recalled how Ellen “was obviously a huge animal lover, and she warmed up to Georgia right away.” And Georgia warmed up to Ellen and to the crowd. She exuded her calm, big-hearted, pit bull energy into the studio audience and across the airwaves into countless houses of viewers.

It was as though Georgia had come full circle. Instead of being goaded on by a crowd who saw in her only the power to destroy other dogs, she was now being cheered on by people who saw in her the potential to save other dogs like her. Georgia’s remarkable ability to love and trust people, despite all that she had been through, is a testament to the universal abilities of a dog to heal and to go on. Her partnership with John had come to represent all that is good in human-canine relationships. Having survived the unspeakable cruelty of man, she emerged victorious, seeming to return nothing but affection and a thousand licks.