The Lost Dogs (30 page)

Of course Leo didn’t know or care about any of that. Once his work was done all he wanted to do was go home and play. He would often run, awkward and lumbering, into the living room, jump on the couch, then roll off and flail on the ground as if he’d been traumatized. The other dogs would jump on top of him, and the four of them would end up rolling around in a pile of legs and tails. It was his favorite game.

IT WAS ONE OF
the first warm days of spring, when it seems as if all at once flowers have started to bloom, birds have returned to the trees, and the sun generates a replica of the heat that portends summer. After her husband and children were out of the house—off to work and school and preschool—Catalina Stirling walked down creaky steps to the basement.

She opened the door to the dog room, and, as always, found Jasmine sitting in her crate, staring out, motionless. The bowl she had put down earlier was now empty and although the dog showed no signs of wanting to go out, Stirling knew she was ready.

Catalina approached the crate, talking softly as she always did. She reached inside and hooked Jasmine under the front shoulders, sliding her out and lifting all thirty-five pounds of her off the ground. She cradled the dog next to her body and stood for just a moment, holding her, bouncing her a little, whispering soft wishes into Jasmine’s ear. Catalina had always loved that name. She’d often thought that if she had another child and it was a girl, she’d name it Jasmine. It was another one of those coincidences, those instinctive markers that pulled her toward the dog.

Jasmine, as always, went stiff in Catalina’s arms, eyes closed. Catalina appreciated that, as well. She too liked to close her eyes and shut out the world when she had problems. She was sure Jasmine had developed this technique to survive, but Catalina could only guess at the hardships she had endured. She could only guess at where Jasmine went during those times. What dreams did she dream? What happy memories did she relive? Did she have any?

Out in the yard, Catalina placed Jasmine on the ground, then moved away. Jasmine got up and took care of her business while Catalina brought out the other dogs. The three of them ran and explored in the yard. The visible change in Jasmine during these sessions with the other dogs amazed Catalina. What Jasmine usually did was closer to crawling than walking. Her legs were never really straight and her belly was maybe six inches off the ground. Her tail was tucked between her legs, her head ducked. And she twitched and flinched at everything, like a shell-shocked soldier walking through a library of falling books.

But when she played in the yard with the other dogs, she looked like a different creature, like a normal dog. She stood high, she ran and jumped, and the tension left her body. Catalina would watch her from the deck or the back window at such times, and it gave her pleasure to see Jasmine enjoying herself. It inspired her as well; she knew there was a happy dog inside Jasmine. Catalina simply had to find a way to get her out.

She decided it was time to try something new. Catalina grabbed the leashes and went into the yard. She leashed up Rogue and Sophie and held them in one hand, then grabbed Jasmine’s leash, which was dragging on the ground behind her, in the other hand, as she did each night when they took their little walks around the yard. This time though, they didn’t stick to the usual routine.

Catalina swung open the gate in the fence. A wide world yawned before them, with houses and cars and a previously unseen collection of trees and sidewalks and mailboxes. Jasmine took it in. She looked uncertain, but the other dogs pulled forward and Catalina went with them. Jasmine let the slack in her leash play out, but before it became tight she started forward, through the gate and out of the yard.

Catalina didn’t know what would happen or how long this sojourn would last but she felt her heart speed up. She could hardly believe that Jasmine had come this far. They reached the top of the yard and turned up the sidewalk. That’s when the trip screeched to a halt.

The walk didn’t end, but Jasmine suddenly had to sniff everything. Every leaf, every bush, every trunk and flower, every, it seemed, blade of grass. Covering ten feet took minutes. A whole new world was opening up to Jasmine and she was diving in with both nostrils. This blew Catalina away. She never imagined the day would turn out like this. Jasmine was showing such courage and doing so well, Catalina’s heart swelled with pride and love.

Even more than the excursion, Catalina was encouraged by Jasmine’s body language. As she had been in the yard, Jasmine was relaxed and steady. She held herself like a regular confident dog and explored whatever caught her curiosity. It was as if she had become so distracted by the new and interesting things around her that she forgot who she was. She forgot where she came from. She forgot to be scared and insecure.

At the same time, Catalina couldn’t help but remember where Jasmine had come from.

About a week later the doorbell rang and Catalina opened her house to Nancy Williams, a certified animal behaviorist. Life had not changed that much in the wake of Jasmine’s breakthrough, but Catalina was determined to push on and she hoped Williams could jump-start the process. The off-property walks had become a regular event, and Jasmine seemed to look forward to them. Each time, she underwent the metamorphosis from twitching fearball to regular dog, sniffing and exploring with delight.

In other ways Jasmine was unchanged. When the group returned home after that first walk, Jasmine had gone directly to the basement and right back into her crate. She still refused to eat with anyone else in the room. Still refused to walk from the basement to the backyard on her own and still struggled with thresholds, going from one room to another or inside to out. She still refused to let anyone pet her.

This was life with Jasmine. For every moment of soaring joy and encouragement there were two instances of heartbreak and sadness. Catalina had started with the belief that given a stable, loving environment any dog could be rehabilitated, but now she realized that Jasmine would never be a “normal” dog. She would never be “adoptable.” It was, as she reconsidered it, an unrealistic goal. It didn’t matter, though, because Catalina also knew more than ever that Jasmine did have some joy in her life and she had the potential for more. That possibility made it all worthwhile and drove her on.

After talking it over with Davor—a software engineer who would have been happy with one dog but understood his wife’s need to connect with animals—Catalina decided that she would keep Jasmine for good. She would do whatever she could to let the dog enjoy as much as possible of her life. The truth was, Catalina got something out of the arrangement herself. The bond she had with Jasmine had begun to feel the same as those she had with her children. It gave Catalina a level of commitment and a clarity of purpose she felt as though she had been missing.

Catalina stuck to her program. The feedings, the carrying, the play sessions in the yard, the walks, the after-dinner quiet time with music. As expected, Jasmine was terrified around Williams, but from what the behaviorist could observe and what Catalina told her, Williams determined that it was time to work with the third area of motivation—the food drive. Catalina had done well using the companionship drive to make some progress, but Williams could see that there was untapped potential to draw Jasmine through food.

First they introduced the Kong. Jasmine took to it quickly and enjoyed chewing and working over the toy to get the treats out. More important, they left the Kongs outside the crate, so Jasmine had to venture out to get them, and since she was used to eating out there, that’s where she worked on them. The result was more time out of the crate, allowing her to get more comfortable and expand her safe zone.

Williams also introduced clicker training. Jasmine had to follow Catalina’s finger as it moved. Every time she did she got a click and a treat. Pretty quickly, Jasmine began to associate the sound with the treat, and the idea that doing what was being asked of her would get her both took hold.

Next, Catalina made Jasmine touch the palm of her hand with her nose to get a click. Jasmine hesitated. She had touched Catalina’s hand a few times while sniffing for treats and seeking out crumbs and those touches had earned her clicks. Jasmine seemed to understand what was being asked of her, but she did not feel comfortable. She looked at Catalina. She tried following her finger but that wasn’t working anymore.

Finally, Catalina held out her palm. Jasmine stood and moved toward it, her neck extending and then retracting. Slowly she inched forward until finally, she touched the palm with her nose. Immediately she got a click and a treat. Catalina stuck her hand out and Jasmine did it again. Another click and another treat. Catalina was so happy. She could see Jasmine being drawn out of her shell. And although she didn’t realize it, something even bigger was happening.

The physical barrier that Jasmine had put up between them was crumbling. After a few days of palm-touching work Jasmine let Catalina pet her. She didn’t shake as she had in the past or flatten on the ground, she sat calmly and let Catalina stroke her.

Catalina was ecstatic. For more than five months Jasmine had cowered in fear of any hand coming near her, and now she had begun to associate human hands with positive things. Finally, a trust was building.

Catalina continued to push. She introduced a pole that Jasmine had to touch with her nose to get a click. Once the dog had mastered that feat, Catalina began to move the pole around her own body so that Jasmine had to walk past and around her, brush up against her, and cross underneath her to get the pole. It took a few tries but eventually Jasmine embraced the drill.

Catalina worked on clicker training with Jasmine twice a day, for up to an hour each session. Plus she was still doing the walks and the feedings. When Catalina came at night to sit and play music she could see that Jasmine was happier. The dog was starting to return the bond that Catalina felt. Jasmine began to look forward to her time with Catalina, and she got excited when Catalina came into the room. She was still scared of everyone else in the house. Sounds and voices made her shake with terror. Intrusions led her to go rigid and close her eyes. She still ate in solitude, but she was definitely making progress.

Then one morning Catalina came down to carry Jasmine out to the yard. As she approached the crate, Jasmine stood. She was in her crouched and cowering mode, but she stepped forward, stopped, then took another step. She looked around and then at Catalina. At last she walked out of the crate and started across the room.

Catalina stood perfectly still and watched her go. Jasmine reached the door that led out to the yard and stopped. The two of them stood frozen where they were. Finally, Jasmine swiveled her head around and looked back at Catalina, who snapped back to her senses and rushed to open the door. Jasmine went up the stairs and out into the yard.

ON NOVEMBER 22, 2007,
Cris Cohen was up early to walk the dogs. He would have to walk each of them separately, feed them separately, the whole deal. It was Thanksgiving and he was home alone.

Jen had gone home to Pittsburgh to be with her family, but Cris couldn’t take time off from work, so he had stayed behind. All foster dogs are a lot of effort, especially one as unsocialized as Jonny was, but the restrictions that forced them to keep the dogs apart had made this situation even harder. It had worn on them as a couple, and being in the house alone on the holiday was a low point for Cris.

What kept him going was Jonny. It had been thirty-one days since the little guy came home with him and in just the last few he had begun to evolve into an actual dog—that is to say, something resembling a typical house pet. That first BAD RAP training class had been a disaster, but it was also something of a turning point. Jonny emerged with a better idea of what he was supposed to be doing. He might not have performed well that day, but it seemed as if he spent his time watching the other dogs, and seeing how they acted had clued him into the program.

In the days since, he’d been calmer and more receptive to training. He’d become more confident; he still Scoobied out at times—he flipped at his first close encounters with a flushing toilet, the doorbell, a dropped book, and his archnemesis remained the garbage truck—but he was much cooler about it now and settled down much more quickly afterward. When Lilly fell asleep downstairs (the house is inverse, with a garage and storage areas downstairs and living space on the second floor), Cris would let Jonny play off-leash upstairs. He loved running around the house, playing fetch and chase and chewing on his fuzzy toy, but now, if Mr. Spunky appeared, the simple
sit
command would bring him right down.

And these days it went far beyond
sit
. Jonny could communicate now. He would bark and whine for attention, and he knew
uh-uh
(as in no),
drop
,
take
,
down
,
ouch
,
go see
,
heel
, and
wait
. When Cohen went to take him out of his crate Jonny no longer jumped up against the gate. He sat and waited for it to open—most of the time. He was still working on
stay
,
come
, and
kiss
, but he had
heel
down so well that when Cohen walked him the only way he even knew Jonny was trotting alongside was by the jingle of his tags.