Progress and Potential

What kind of progress have you made in the last 5 weeks?  Have you finished a semester at school or a project at work? Have you made and stuck to a New Year’s resolution?

Unless you’ve accomplished a herculean feat, it’s safe to say Jack has put us all to shame…collectively.

Five weeks ago, he came to us matted and shy. He cowered in a corner as we brushed out clumps and clumps of dead hair. He scampered away from doors and froze and whimpered at the sights of stairs. He didn’t know where to do his business and wanted nothing to do with a crate. He didn’t even know how to eat a bone—only how to hide it for future use. He neither knew commands nor understood the concept of walking on a leash.  

But boy, he had a willingness to learn and please.

And so he has.

Today, Jack has a beautiful and healthy coat. He’s gregarious and loving with every person he meets. He pushes his way through doors  and sprints up and down the stairs just for the hell of it. He’s both house trained and crate trained.  He chews on bones instead of hiding them. He knows sit, stay, down, and shake and walks politely on a leash. At adoption day this afternoon, a five-year-old boy had Jack responding to commands, and two third-grade girls walked him around the store.

He’s a dog that’s just brimming with trainability potential. In fact, he vaguely reminds me of a border-collie mix named Ollie from this episode of DogTown. Sherry, the trainer, proves that it’s possible to train homeless mutts, such as Ollie, in important service capacities like search and rescue.

We've taken Jack this far; it’s only a matter of time before his forever family comes along and helps him fulfill that potential.

Okay, so we still need to work on some eye-mouth coordination.

Jack in Training

Lately I’ve been feeling like we’re preparing for the Adoption Olympics. With just 7 days in between taking in Jack and the first adoption day, there's a lot of work to do in a short amount of time. It’s not an easy task with both of us working full time and then some, grad school, and planning a wedding.

First come the necessities—making sure Jack is healthy, clean, and looking at his/her best. We’ve spent hours (literally hours) raking out mats and dreadlocks from his fur. 

And then, of course, there’s the actual training.  We’d love to say we put a dent in house breaking and crate training, but anyone who has ever had a dog knows that these things take time. Four paws forward, two paws back. The hardest training task will be to transform Jumping Jack into just Jack. He seems to love people so much that he wants to give everyone a giant bear hug. (But I’m sure he told you that in his post over the weekend.) While many people find this endearing, it may scare off some potential adopters, especially those with younger kids.

Once we’ve gotten past the basic issues, I’d love to be able to show off some tricks. A dog that can sit and shake will surely win over hearts, right? Well, we’re about 75% there.

The final step is the pep talk. It goes something like this. "Jack-O-Lantern, you have to be on your best behavior for people to adopt you. You have to smile and wag your tail and look deep into their souls with those big brown eyes, ok? Can you do that?” Wag, wag, wag. I think he gets it.

Jack will be up for adoption through Cattitude starting Saturday, December 11. Come meet him at the Piscataway Petco from 11am to 4pm.  Here are some other new dogs that will be up for adoption: Willow, Orion, and Brownie. As you can see, there's stiff competition, but Jack is a pretty competitive guy, and he’s out to win the Adoption Olympics.

Dog Meets World

A number of things have become abundantly clear to us in first few days of fostering Wookiee. 

First, this dog is damn cute. No matter which way he looks at you or how stubborn he's being, his little, furry face just melts your heart.

Second, this dog is not feeling at his best. (Luckily, Wookiee seems to be his one-year-old self now that he has had some medicine.) 

Third, this dog has not yet met the world. On walks, he's very cautious with curbs and grates and "For Sale" signs and people walking by holding umbrellas. Which leads me to the story of Wookiee v. the Purple Umbrella. A few nights ago, I grabbed my purple umbrella as I prepared to take Wookiee out for a walk. I figured that, like some dogs, Wookiee might not be a fan of the rain so I thought we could both fit under the umbrella. Not so. He wanted NOTHING to do with the umbrella. He scampered and crouched down. Once we finally got moving,  he dashed out far ahead of me and stayed there for the entire walk. But when he looked back at me and the purple umbrella, he freaked out.

Once we got inside, I tried to introduce Wookiee to the purple umbrella. He was fine with it closed. He sniffed it, then moved on. But with the umbrella opened up, he dashed to the other side of the house—even without seeing the pop! If you think about it, umbrellas are pretty funny inventions anyway—the way they transform from one thing to another in less than a second. I don't blame Wookiee; he probably thought it was some crazy magic trick. But we'll work on his little umbrella fear.

Another thing we're working on is learning how to play. Perhaps it was because Wookiee wasn't feeling well, but it appeared as though the pooch knew nothing about the world of play. For days, Jonathan and I channeled our inner canines and modeled how to chase after a ball and play tug of war. But Wookiee has just watched—unamused. Then, last night, Wookiee took it upon himself to go into a basket of toys and take out a white teddy bear. He threw it up in the air, caught it, then chewed at it.

So while the video below may simply look like an adorable dog with a fear of purple umbrellas chewing his toy, it's actually great progress in the education of Wookiee meets world.