Calvin, a Jack Russell Terrier, was the smartest dog I have ever had the privilege of meeting and owning. I would like to say he was a nice, normal, good dog, but he wasn't able to be. 90% of the time he was a pure nightmare to deal with in terms of all the precautions we took to protect him and others. Even though he was incredibly obedient, physically beautiful, extremely intelligent, and would do anything you wanted on command, he was also a hyper-aggressive, anxious, and troubled dog. He was constantly on guard and never fully relaxed in any situation. He wasn't antsy, he was just always on the look out for some perceived threat, silently worried that if he let his guard down, something would happen to him. He was fear aggressive, prey aggressive, food aggressive, dog aggressive, and people aggressive. He would climb up on your lap or come to your heel, let you pet him while happily wagging his tail and/or licking you, and then tense up, growl, and/or snap at you a moment later. Often times, he tried to do damage, especially to the other dogs. The 10% of him, alert and curious, hunting outside, and happy to be around us, is what we lived for because it was the only time he was normal and truly happy.
For 5 years, he only wanted two things: to be near us as long as he wasn't touched or his space invaded; and to be outside hunting, patrolling, guarding, digging, and climbing trees, all the while searching for intruders or animals to kill. He had no interest in people, or other dogs, other than to do them harm or dominate them on his terms. He had no interest in toys or playing. The way Calvin played with the other dogs was by chasing them, running them down, flipping them over, and pinning them by the neck. Often, many of the dog on dog fights started when the other dog tried to play back the same way. This led to him being the leader of, but completely isolated from his pack. By the last few months, they avoided him as much as possible, with playing being very very sporadic. He was barely domesticated, as close to a wild animal as I have ever seen in a human household, and still capable of showing us rare moments of affection that a normal dog shows its owner on a moment's notice. The hardest part is that Calvin never let himself be part of the family. He never opened himself up and was always aloof and distant. If he would start to play, or when he showed some affection, he would suddenly stop like he was embarrassed by what he was doing, like he didn't want to demean himself by showing he enjoyed it. That was the hardest, because even though he put us through hell, we loved him with all our hearts, but we could not make him want to be loved by us. He was our burden. He was our responsibility. We were supposed to make him normal, but we couldn't.
We lived daily for small victories on his terms. Him wagging his tail, playing with us, playing with the other dogs, only to have them shattered when we would hear him growl at another dog, or he would growl at us while being petted. All he ever wanted was to be near us, but he would never let himself truly be a part of the family. Knowing that he needed and wanted to be part of the family, but not being able to unlock or remove whatever inside of him that was preventing him from truly becoming part of the family, was a painful daily struggle for him and us. I always thought that he wanted to be the dog I wanted him to be. That deep down he wanted affection, and wanted to be dependent, and that he wanted to please us, but I could never get him to cross that threshold. The moments he did were brief but wonderful, and it is what kept us going, what kept us believing, what kept us from admitting what we were faced with, that our days with Calvin were spent trying to advert disasters, and that this would never change.
But he never had a chance from the moment he was born. It was in his genes. His mother died in September of 2008. She broke out of her pen, went hunting all day, and when she came back she died from exhaustion. This determination to a fault, and her skittish personality, is what she gave to Calvin. He was reared with 14 other puppies from 3 different litters, and we believe this had a significant impact on locking in his natural aggressive tendencies because he would have had to fight for food and to be left alone in the chaos. This led to a poor socialization early on, but most of his aggressive and dangerous tendencies were ingrained from birth. Numerous times I had situations where had I not intervened he would have likely died because he didn't know when, or care to, stop doing what he was doing. Chasing him 2 miles away from home in sub 20 degree temperatures because he was chasing geese down the river at 3AM. Catching him as he fell out of trees. Digging him out from under sheds or out of rabbit and ground hog holes. Killing the animals that he mortally wounded but couldn't finish off. Disposing of the ones he did kill. Building walls and extra fencing to prevent him from getting at dogs that outweighed him by 100lbs. Installing kick plates in bed rooms because he chewed his way through a 2 inch wooden door. He had an intense determination to hunt and kill, and this bled over into his social behavior.
The night I got him, at 9 weeks old, he growled off all the other dogs, even the adults, at the food bowl at the breeder's, and in spite of that I picked him because he was the most interesting and independent puppy of the lot. He was also so smart he was already paper trained. The first time he bit was at 10 weeks old, when he split open my nose after I put my face near him when he was sleeping in a chair. Over the years, he bit us, our other dogs, and family numerous times, most times when someone just tried to pet him, or when one of the other dogs got near him. Luckily, I was normally the one getting bit, and the few times he did bite my wife or family members, it was never serious enough to justify putting him down, and we were able to prevent him from biting anyone but me or the other dogs for the last 3 years. Then, the last time he bit me was worse than all of them combined. You try to convince yourself that someone else would have cut his life short much sooner, and wouldn't have given him the great life he had, nor the time, patience, understanding, and freedom we gave him. I don't believe anyone would have accepted him for who he was like we did. But this acceptance put him and us in harm's way. Had a police report not been filed, I would have probably kept him until he did serious damage to one of the other dogs, or worse, a child or family member. He was capable of this every second of every day, and we were incredibly lucky that it didn't happen to anyone but me over his 5 years. Looking back, we were gambling with our livelihoods and possibly our freedom because we knew he was dangerous. I forgave him all of his faults, built a family, household, and lifestyle around them, and I forgave him every time he bit or growled. I let him be the dangerous dog he was because I always thought that 'this time he won't growl when I pet him' and 'this time will be different' and 'he can change if I just love him enough'. But he was the same dog when we got him as he was when he left us. The only thing that changed was that he was meaner, older, unhappier, and more dangerous.
Over the years, we have had to restrict his freedom to reduce the 'incidents'. As we analyze his life, it is clear that the more we tried to control him and prevent any further incidents, the more unhappy he became. All he wanted was to be in control every second of the day, and that meant outside hunting or inside in control of the household. If he didn't have those freedoms, he was unhappy, anxious, and on edge. It became a vicious downward spiral, leading to a stressful life he didn't deserve. Finally, he became a legal liability, as the last time he bit me bad enough to send me to the ER, where the police report was filed. It wasn't a question of 'if' he'd bite again, but 'when?', and 'who?', and 'how bad?'. The vets said that drugs and training wouldn't fix him, and they couldn't do anything for him other than dope him up. They recommended putting him down on numerous occasions, before and after the last bite. Nothing would have changed his instant reaction when startled to defend himself by attacking.
Over the last few months, trying to prevent a bite had escalated into putting a muzzle on him when he is around the other dogs. His life had been reduced to being confined in a room for 10 hours a day, followed by wearing a muzzle for the remaining 14, all to prevent him from biting the other dogs or us. We had to increase the very things that made him unhappy and filled him with anxiety - confinement, segregation, and control - and these restrictions were only increased over the years, and would never have been taken away or lessened.
Tuesday, 12/16/2008, after 5 years of worry, fear, and anxiety, I put down a perfectly healthy dog because he was a danger to everyone, and everything, that encountered him, but I still believe I had no right to do it. He was my responsibility, and I failed him because I couldn't change him. Every moment of every day was spent trying to prevent having to end his life because of his actions. But I tried as hard as I could. I gave him as good of a life as I could, loved him unconditionally, and I did everything I could to protect him from himself.
That Tuesday morning, unaware of his fate and with my wife and I looking on, he finished eating, picked up his muzzle, carried it to the child's gate separating him from the rest of the house, and dropped the muzzle on the ground to signal he was ready to be let out of his room. He was ready to control the house again. It was the last brilliant act of an amazing but deeply flawed dog, letting me know he was OK with wearing the muzzle if I would let him live like that. He was willing to put up with all of the restrictions, but unwilling to let them break his need to control every situation, even if they made him unhappy and anxious, and knowing that I could never change this, no matter what structure I gave him, broke my heart.
As I looked for the telephone number to the vet, I flipped a coin to decide. Heads I don't call. Tails I do. First flip, heads. Best 2 out of 3. Second flip, tails. Third flip, heads. Upset the coin wouldn't make the decision for me, I dialed the first three numbers. Out of nowhere he came into the doorway of the kitchen, and just stood there and looked at me....with his muzzle on. He came and sat in front of me and then reared up and put his paws on my knee. As I finished dialing the number, he turned and walked out of the kitchen and went back to his bed. Watching him walk away, thinking to myself he knew what was going on, was extremely hard. I wish I could have stopped dialing. But I couldn't let him live like that. He was a proud dog that had become a prisoner, and as we reflect over the years, it is astounding to what degree his life had once been free and changed to now being completely controlled. We know we gave him a good life and catered to his every need, but regardless of everything we tried, he only got worse over the years. I hope now that he is finally free, free from the anxiety, free from the restriction, and free to do as he pleases, which is all he ever wanted and the only thing that truly made him happy. He was only ever happy on his terms and conditions, any deviation from what he wanted made him miserable.
I am now only left with memories, 'ifs', and a series of regrets and things I would do differently. I regret spanking him, when he growled or bit in the early years, the most, as I think this made him distrust me, and by the time I figured this out, I feel his distrust was ingrained. Getting him neutered at 6 months instead of 2 1/2 years would have also given us a shot at breaking through his aggression. Making my house a one dog house so we could devote all our attention to training him. I regret not knowing what I know now after years of trying to help him. Had I been a more informed owner in the first weeks and months of owning him, he may have had a fighting chance. I regret being afraid of, and not trusting, him from the moment he bit me in the face when he was 10 weeks old. I regret not trusting him, and that he never trusted me enough to let down his guard. It is very sad to think that for 5 years he knew we didn't trust him fully, and I believe this kept him apart from us. I regret not being a better owner, master, trainer, and friend, because if I had, his story wouldn't have ended this way and could have lasted much longer. But I do not regret choosing him that night. I would never change that. Because if someone else chose him, his life would have been much shorter and much worse, and someone and something other than myself could have been hurt much more seriously. But also, I never would have met him, and had this amazing yet tragic experience.
I am thankful for the moments when he did let us in. I am thankful for the daily 5-15 minutes of pure affection that he showed my wife and I, where there was never any doubt that he wanted to be, and was happy to be, with us. I am thankful for the times I got to observe him hunting and playing with my other dogs, whom he did get along with most of the time. I am thankful they may have provided him some form of inclusion that he wouldn't have received penned up his entire life with someone else. I am thankful, that even though he scared everyone, there were still many people in his life who loved him and accepted him, each of whom he was immensely happy to see whenever they came to visit. I am thankful for the little things he did that made me smile and laugh. I am thankful that he was there for me in my time of need. I am thankful for the challenge that he was, as it has taught me more about patience, understanding, forgiveness, adversity, strength, and acceptance than anything in my life. In the end, all I tried to be was his friend.
I hope that he is happy, free, hunting, and among friends where ever he is, and as I told him as I held him in my arms, while he peacefully laid in my lap that morning as they injected death into his veins...'I am so sorry.'
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