Harnessing the Storm

The rare thunderstorm that hit Bakersfield tonight provided the perfect energetic space within which to help Fred along in his healing process.

This evening was the longest I'd been without Fred since he came home two weeks ago. It was "Sunday Funday" up at Mutt Ranch (i.e. Zach's place in Bear Valley Springs). While Fred has progressed swiftly through some negative behavior patterns he brought home with him, he still needs some time to adjust, settle down, and work his way back into the entirety of life here in "our world", So, though I hated the idea of leaving him for the whole evening, I decided against bringing him with us. It would be good anyway, I reasoned, for him to spend an extended few hours at home without me, as part of our progressive "independence project".

I am working on empowering Fred's independence to build his confidence, and also to help him relearn true relaxation and calm. In order to do both of these things, I must give Fred "alone time"... "apart from me time"...so that he doesn't develop neediness, feelings of responsibility for ME and my emotional state...and what would result as separation anxiety. Insecurities and fears that Fred developed during his time as a service dog tend to manifest in a sort of hyper-activity, which I believe stems from his feelings of anxiety and an responsible for others. I must reiterate, he is already so much better now than he was two weeks ago, it's incredible. But at first (and to some degree still) he was very hyper-vigilant. Of noises, of other dogs barking, of the other dogs moving around him or especially toward him (into his space). What we did a lot of the first week and half, was counter-condition the negative emotional associations he had with those things to which he was reacting; i.e. the noises (he would bark at), and the other dogs (he would growl at).

Pairing food rewards with things that once made Fred nervous or uncomfortable, altered the way he perceived those things. At first, when my roommate's chow mix, Ginger, would walk into the kitchen while Fred was in there with me (lying on his designated mat out from under my feet), he would get very anxious, and would growl. Now, Fred eagerly awaits Ginger's appearance at the kitchen threshold, because every time she appears, positive things come to Fred. Before, he "worried" that something would be taken away from him, or would be out of his control in an uncomfortable way, if the dogs got too close to entering his personal space. We've changed that negative association to a positive one.

When working on behavior modification, food rewards make sense and work very well. When working to help restore a depleted spirit, something more powerful must be employed. So, when Fred was able to relax, and find his inner-calm in the midst of the (literal) storm, I rewarded him with all the love and pride in my heart. I reward his bravery with my trust in his strength.

After we returned home from our Sunday dinner (4.5 hours later, because Bear Valley Springs is over an hour's drive each way), Fred was extremely excited. Being happy to see your human pack members when they return home is one thing. But being excited to the point of not being able to calm down...isn't healthy. And anyone who knows Fred can attest, he is an incredibly laid back guy at his core.

So, we went outside on the back patio to watch the exquisite lightning storm that had finally broken open the clouds and let the rain pour down. I gently put one finger under Fred's collar, and asked that he stay by me rather than wander around, especially out in the hail and rain. Clancy was relaxing under the table, just taking it all in. Fred had a harder time being still at first. I asked him to lay down, and I massaged his furry shoulders, and scratched behind his velvety ears. Ginger walked by; Fred had his signature "anxious reaction" (but without any growling -- for a solid week now); i.e. he stood up quickly and turned to make sure he had eyes on Ginger. I calmly asked him to lay down again, and asked for his eye contact. He stared into my eyes as I stared into his, for what must have been twenty seconds, at least. During that time, Ginger had passed by. And now, not only did Fred associate Ginger with food (as in the context of the kitchen). But also with the calming buzz of an electric storm, a glorious cleansing in the form of rain, and the promise in my eyes that said definitively and infinitely, "Never again will I let you go. And if I have to leave you for any length of time, I will always come back to you." I can finally...finally make that promise to him. My special, angel boy.