We never would have even thought to look for other options—the option for Missy to stay right where she was and have the training come to her. And I certainly never would have come upon the site that led us to the person who was supposed to care for Missy all along: the fabulous Miss Sarah Parker.
Sarah met me at 5:30AM Monday morning. I hadn’t slept really, just napped here and there between tasks of cleaning up, prepping the house for her, and packing up my belongings. Missy was happy to have company—even at this ungodly hour of the morning. Pre-coffee for both Sarah and me, we muddled through the logistics, and just as we finished up, my cab rolled up to the curb.
It could be from lack of sleep, but truly it was my gut instinct that was at peace in that moment. I hugged and kissed Missy good-bye without even a tear. She was in the best hands possible, and maybe, just maybe, she would be in her forever home before I saw her again. I closed the door to the cab and waved to the dimly lit shadows in my front window: Sarah waving as she crouched down behind Missy, wrapped her arms around Missy, and the two watched me drive away in the pre-dawn hour.
Half an hour later as I retrieved my phone out of the x-ray machine at the airport, I saw I had a text. “She isn’t into napping. She misses you already!”
I hoped she wouldn’t sit there all day. I wanted her to cuddle up with sleepy Sarah and snooze until dawn. Sarah later reported that she finally dragged Missy away from the window, but Missy only lasted a few minutes before returning to sentinel. An hour later, missy gave up, opting for the more comfortable position of awaiting my return on the couch.
Sarah had told me her intent of trying to get Missy to walk with a gentle leader, which I was fine with. It’s a good tool, but not something I could get the hang of. I suggested she wait until Missy trusted her and they created a bond first since I had never put anything on Missy’s face before. But I trusted Sarah's judgement: if Missy was ready, she was ready.
By evening on the first day, Sarah emailed me this pic of Missy on the gentle leader, like a pro!
It’s not my favorite training tool, as it makes me feels like I'm leading a horse around, not a dog, but for Sarah, it’s helping Missy correct her reactions to stimulus on the street faster (and more effectively) than the Martingale collar ever did. She never noticed the choking aspect of the collar and would keep her tantrums up when she saw a dog/squirrel/cat/moving being. But with the head collar, her visual and mental focus quickly can be turned away from the stimulus.
That’s not to say it is not without its hazards. As I explained to Sarah, you have to be really observant with Missy; you have to see, react, and respond to every possible trigger before she notices it. Sarah has gotten road rash only once due to a cat, but Missy didn’t get away. So the proverb is, “Missy keeps you on your toes or face first on the pavement.”
Day three began “Heel.” In less than a week, she is maintaining Heel even out on the streets. It was a long process, but just today, Sarah announced that Missy passed a cat and remained in the Heel position!
Inside, Sarah is teaching Missy how to control her barking when it comes to outside forces. If Missy barks at the window, Sarah will ask her if she needs to “check it,” and then once shown, she tells her, “Okay, thank you.” “Enough!” is the new most-spoken word in and out of the house, as it is used for Missy's verbal squirrel attacks, and other barking fiascos that warrant no checking but merely human logic.
Today brought another phenomenal text announcement: "Yesterday AM she also managed to sit and stare the squirrel in the face through the window. I was doing Yoga and managed to get her to calm down on the floor with me. Slowly but surely... :)"
Maybe I should have tried Yoga for Missy.
In all this though, I believe that Sarah has indeed become enamored of the street girl. It is this investment, this caring, that I don’t believe she would have ever received at David’s, or even the other train and boarding places I desperately tried to enroll her in. Waking, eating, sleeping, living with a soul you are training to have manners, teaching to do things, to communicate, and seeing the results not just once a day, but every minute of the day: that’s how true dog training works.
When you own a dog, you can take a dog to classes, but the work isn’t just one hour a week—it’s every minute of every day, creating a bond and a relationship. Sarah has done that. She isn’t Missy’s owner; she’s an at-home teacher who gets to the results of her training all the time.
Sarah hasn’t had many guests over, but when her friend Matt and her went to the movies the other night, she asked him to come inside the house to give Missy a chance to learn “Go to you Mat” and “Stay” while people entered the house. Her focus mat has moved inside now, and Sarah is using it as a place for Missy to be near the fireplace so she can still see outside, but isn’t allowed to move.
(That's a zebra toy Sarah had in her car and needed to get rid of... It is now missing its ears and a bit of mane, but has yet to be disemboweled.)
It took three tries of Sarah telling her to Wait, opening the door, her getting up, Sarah closing the door, and starting over before she stayed long enough on the mat to try again. She couldn’t wait any longer on the third try and rushed at him, but Matt had already been told not to give her attention until she stopped jumping on him. She calmed down fairly quickly and they went for a walk.
Back at the house, Missy claimed Matt as her boyfriend (Sarah’s words, not mine.) She sat on his feet while they stood in the kitchen and looked up at him all googly-eyed. She was so taken by him, she even tried to hump him... three times. (Poor girl just doesn’t know how to express herself.)
In the living room, Sarah no longer existed for Missy. The woman she had just spent a week with, the one who has bought her toys, given her enormous amounts of sausage and praise—she meant nothing to her; all that Missy cared about was the cute boy at the other end of the couch.
I do wonder if Sarah has even begun on her new novel. I know how time slips away when you’re with a canine. And Sarah is still maintaining her dog-walking gigs five days a week from noon to 4PM.
Missy has learned to sleep at the end of the bed (Sarah can’t have a dog all up in her face when she’s sleeping,) and she’s learning that when Sarah is on the floor in the morning, that she is doing Yoga and is not on the floor to play with her.
Sarah has also gotten in “Drop It” lessons, using treats to begin with, but now without. Missy seems to like the fetch idea now that she’s caught on that if she drops it, Sarah will throw it again.
I’m grateful for Sarah. She cares for Missy, is invested in Missy, and is teaching her so much. And she “gets” Missy. She has said a number of times that Missy is incredibly smart—and how sometimes it would easier if Missy wasn’t so bright. Missy knows when there isn’t a treat for a reward and won’t always pony up the necessary response without the reward. And she also recognizes what I said long ago: that Missy seems to really enjoy the challenge of figuring out what you want her do to. I wouldn’t say it’s eager to please; it’s eager to please herself. She’s proud when she’s done something well. You can see it.
I picture her being a police dog. She’s intelligent enough, but the reason I say that is because she has this independent sense of self. The girl isn’t going to blindly obey; she takes her own perspective and her own opinion as a deciding factor. I think that quality makes a great partner.
Of course, the Police Academy is big dreaming. Right now, she needs a home. Sarah gave Missy a bath (and kudos to her for trying to record the event!) and is prepared to start making the treacherous steps forward to canine interaction.
And this is her in the backyard afterward (it’s also proof of why I need to fix the fence—the tie-line is a danger):
If you can, pause at 00:20. Missy's revving-up moment is priceless.
So, to my friends, I am indebted to you. Your money is going to someone who not only trains Missy daily, but truly cares for Missy, and spends time with her not just training, but living with her, taking her for walks, playing with her, snuggling with her.
It wasn’t the option I thought would happen. I never suspected this would be the outcome when I said, “Why doesn’t she just stay here?” back in January. I suspected 2-4 weeks, and she’d be in her forever home and I’d be working again.
But once on the path, there’s no going back. Like Belinda who couldn’t go back, but could only pay the vet bill for Missy’s boarding in November when she learned Missy hadn’t gone to that rescue. Now I’ve dipped my toe in, and been swept up. There’s no going back. I couldn’t have taken her to a kennel. I just couldn’t. If had, then my hands would be washed of it, it would be all on Belinda, and Missy would waste away at boarding indefinitely. I couldn’t do that.
The fact is that although I say “this is the outcome,” this isn’t the outcome, the end; we’re still on the journey. Missy isn’t even done with Week 2 of training and she’s well on her way to being desensitized to animals and going to adoption fairs. Sarah aims for Missy to be ready for adoption fairs by the end of April. I, of course, am aiming for end of March. When I hear how far Missy has come just in a week, I know she can be a polite canine in public in only couple of weeks. I don’t expect her to be perfect; but I know she will rise to whatever challenge is presented to her—even if for her own pride.
I thank you, my friends, who have financially and morally supported Missy and me. I thank the universe for relentlessly pulling us away from our original plan and plunking us down on an entirely different path. I am hoping, for Missy and for my sake, that Missy has a home by May 1st. This is the need I am sending out to the universe. If my job is extended (which I hope and need it to be), I cannot keep paying Sarah. And Missy needs to go directly from Sarah’s loving care right into her forever family’s home, with no stop-overs.
Missy, I’m doing the best I can; now you do your best: go out there and strut yourself and flirt with the boys and find your person!
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