First, at Last

“In nature, things move violently to their place,

and calmly in their place…”

                                                       Francis Bacon Sr.

         By Rita Sands

Over the summer I adopted a dog named Pepper. I found him in aGreensboro North Carolina shelter.  He is a two year old miniature poodle whose little body bears the scars of violence against him.  When I held him, he couldn’t look at me. He was shivering with fear. My decision was immediate: he was coming home with me to a peaceful and happier life.  

I felt certain that Pepper would find a nurturing friend in my other dog, Lily, a six year old mild mannered Golden Retriever. We would be a gleeful three-some, a group, a clan, sharing our days, our meals, long walks, trips in the car, enjoying life as it happens. 

Of course the two were cautious with each other when they first met, but I made certain to keep everything fair and even, protecting both,  paying lots of attention to each, love and kisses all around, along with the treats and the toys.  Thinking that Pepper was probably scared out of his mind I carried him everywhere. He melted with the pampering and I was happy to see him relax.

Once in a while, there was competition between the two dogs, but it appeared to be normal testing of boundaries. Swiping toys away from each other was common, but once in a while there were small acts of incursion. Now and then Lily would wait for just the right moment and steal Pepper’s bedding from his crate, and drag it across the room where she would then stand on it

One day I brought home two new identical toys.  I put them down on the kitchen floor in two separate places and turned toward the stove. Suddenly, war broke out. Lily and Pepper were fighting with a ferocity that shocked me, both baring their teeth, sounding off at the top of their lungs, writhing around in a frenzy - an 85 pound dog and an 8 pound dog. It was horrific.  I shouted and threw pots and pans to distract them and eventually they stopped. After examining both and calming everyone down  I picked up the phone and began the search for an expert on animal behavior who knew how to fix what was wrong  for the well being of both dogs.

There would be two more dog fights before I found Marcia.   Marcia Okabayashi. Originally from Brazil, she is a dog trainer with her own business in Greensboro, specializing in canine behavior.  Marcia returned my call immediately.  When I told her about the fights, she was concerned and arranged to make an emergency visit, even though she’d have to drive nearly an hour to get to us.

The next afternoon Marcia arrived.  I looked out the window and thought, “Well who is this sweet petite lady walking through the grass with a small piece of luggage on wheels?”  Lily, Pepper and I scrambled to the screen door to greet her; both of them were barking and running in circles at the mere sight of a stranger. Lily pushed ahead, as she usually does, jumping and knocking things down so she could get to our visitor first. I picked up Pepper to protect him.   

Marcia stepped in and without a word she tackled Lily to the floor. And Lily let her do it! With her free hand, Marcia reached out to a now hysterical Pepper, put him in his crate and locked the door. When he continued jumping and vocalizing in there, she delivered what I would later call her trademark utterance: a loud burst of sound that lasts just a fraction of a second, but in its wake is a mass of unsettled air that flattens all other sounds, getting the undivided attention it warrants. It’s a high pitched vocal dart that punctures any independent thought.  All 3 of us stopped what we were doing.

Within 20 seconds of Marcia’s arrival, there was quiet and order, where there had been none.  I was speechless….and wondering if she was going to make that sound again. “How do you do”, she said, getting up off the floor. “I’m Marcia, and your dogs now know I mean business”.   Well that was a fact.

She asked many questions to learn about us, but in the end we had much more to learn from her. Marcia explained the natural pecking order of living with animals, the reality of their lives, and what they need to be safe and to thrive in a domestic environment. When I pointed to Pepper and said “But he’s a rescued dog” Marcia said: “Get over it! He knows he’s here now. Let him learn how to fit in” She told me why that’s essential he do that alone. Her objective: that we build a sustainable and much more workable family structure.  I used to enjoy letting the dogs communicate to me what they wanted and when, giving them a great deal of autonomy. What they really needed more was structure.

Training began right then and there, with tools, props, books and articles to read, all coming from the mysterious luggage with wheels on it. Marcia warned that if we didn’t make a major change in the household, the dogs would fight again and again and that “Pepper might not survive the next time”.

Marcia spent several hours with us that first day, and worked intensely with my dogs in all sorts of situations both in and out of the house. She recommended I use different sounds as correction tools, and for expressing praise.  It’s been interesting to see how the dogs have responded.  The stress I didn’t know we were all living under had ended.  Working at home now is a pleasure. Life as a dog here is a lot better too, and safer.

It was all about the order of things. I am“top dog”, making all the decisions for Lily and Pepper with regard to routine. Lily, who takes direction from me, is the “Alpha” dog, the undisputed leader of all other dogs in the house. That would be Pepper, who is trailing in last place. No more toys in the house, no bones for a while, nothing to tempt a confrontation. They eat separately, walk separately, travel separately and are assessed as individuals.

Marcia noted that Lily, who had made it her everyday job to pace around the house endlessly, now actually seemed relieved not to be doing that anymore.  She’d even stopped panting. Pepper made his own choices about staying out of her way. Sometimes he would sit on the bed facing the wall for long periods of time which would kill me. I wanted desperately to pick him up so he’d feel better, but Marcia advised me not to confuse private processing time with depression. Distinctions can be made by sorting out the most subtle body language. I hadn’t been looking closely enough.

Marcia returned for her second and last visit two weeks later. She was met at the door by me and only me. Inside, nothing but quiet.  Lily sat behind me, Pepper sat behind her, all of us braced for the possibility of one of those yells. But no, it wasn’t necessary.  I had water sprays in both pockets, a can with pennies, a leash trailing Pepper’s collar, and massive amounts of pots and pans at the ready, but they were never needed. It was Marcia who taught us how to be a happy family of 2 separate dogs and one in charge person with a better understanding of the natural order of things.

We’d been out of order and learned what the consequences could be. It reminds me of a kind of riddle I learned long ago that I think Lily would like.  It says: “I used to be behind before but now I’m first at last”  Marcia 202-Dogs

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