Behind the closed door...

When I adopted Caesar I thought that owning a dog was all about; nice walks, fun training sessions, cuddles and companionship.  I'm not going to say it wasn't about these things.  Because I'd say these things account for around 50% of our relationship.  The rest is based around; compromise, sacrifice and forgiveness.  And these things must come from both of us.  Let me explain:

It's 3am and I'm at work tomorrow.  Caesar has just thrown up on the carpet.  I know why he's thrown up.  It's because yesterday, when I was at work, he broke down a door and ate a lot of sweets.  Sweets that I know he shouldn't have eaten.  He's been wearing a smile on his face ever since.  I know when the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile-like shape he is feeling sick and I've been waiting for this moment since 10pm.  Waiting to fall into a deep sleep.  I can't.

Caesar shouldn't even be upstairs. When I first got him, those were the rules; no coming upstairs, no going on the furniture and certainly no sleeping in the bed.  Those things changed when I realised the battle I had with Caesar.  People say 'pick your battles' and I totally agree.  It seemed important to Caesar to be close to us.  He wasn't content with sitting at our feet, he wanted to be sitting on our laps or cuddled under our arms.  At first, we would sit on the floor to give him this closeness and he was content with that.  But more for our own sake than his, it eventually became easier to allow him to come up on the sofa for a cuddle.  He began coming to bed when we realised how difficult he found sleeping alone.  He would cry and whine in the night and, although we thought he would grow out of it, it actually got worse as he got to know us more.  So here we are at 3am, Caesar and I, upstairs, in the bedroom and he's just, politely (I suppose), jumped off the bed and puked on the carpet.

From not coming upstairs to not coming in bed to sleeping by my side every night....feelings change...

It's not nice throwing up at 3am.  I, as you probably will too, know this.  So I can't feel cross with Caesar.  I'd like to say he has learnt his lesson, but know that his innate behaviour forces him to go looking for food.  He will eat foods that are poisonous to him and, what's more, if there's no one about, he will carry on eating them until they have gone.  Just read 'Saving Caesar: What about GDV?' to find out what happened the last time Caesar got hold of unlimited amounts of food.

So am I angry with Caesar?  No.  I'm angry with myself.  Clearly I'm not clever enough to outsmart him.  Immediately I'm thinking of a plan B.... Although this time it's more like a plan Z.  I've run out of letters now.  But I will keep trying.  This relationship is about compromise.  If I don't do my job properly, he lets me know by eating the contents of my kitchen and then throwing up.  Harmony is only achieved when I put in enough stops and he stops himself enough; I have no doubt that Caesar could break a door down if he needed to.

 Caesar looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth...

So last week the balance of our lives was upset when Damien was suddenly called away to France.  And all hell broke loose in our house.  I was trying to make things easy for Damien by acting as if everything was fine.  But, the longer he was gone, the less alright everything began to get.  Every day, my sister, who was staying with me, would return to the house at lunch time not knowing what she would find.  By the end of the first day, the baby gate which was supposed to prevent Caesar from coming downstairs had been broken off the wall.  And, on the third day she returned to find that the gate holding Caesar back from the dining room had been pulled over and the dining room door was ajar.

What's this???

If I had to choose a word to describe how the dining room looked it would be 'disastrous' but I don't really feel that even this does the state of the room justice.  Suffice to say that, when I returned from work that evening, I took one look into the room before shutting the door and saying, half to the dog and half to myself, "I can't cope with this now..."  It wasn't until later that I was able to bring myself to evaluate the damage.

Summary of the damage:
1 x Christmas present eaten (box of chocolates wrapped for a friend) - I found the wrappers in the garden a couple of days later...
1 x Christmas ornament broken (by trampling???)
1 x coolbox (belonging to said friend), opened and chewed around the rim
1 x coat pocket missing - chewed from the inside...
1 x poo in the corner (!!!) - embarrassingly didn't find this until days later!!
1 x rucsac missing handles and inner pockets
1 x upturned mug (thankfully not broken but nice sachet of hot drink MIA...)
1 x box upturned with contents all over the floor
Various papers of unknown origin chewed up and spat out...

Had I realised that he had eaten a whole box of chocolates including the wrappers at the time, I would have rushed him to the vet.  However, as it happened, I didn't realise that there was anything edible in the dining room until much after the incident when wrappers started appearing in piles in the garden...By which time, of course, they'd already been through his system!  That taught me to check next time.  Though, I must admit, I was a little glad that I'd missed that little bit of drama!

It's a little bit of a sore subject how many of the items got into the dining room though, that being said, I was fairly convinced that Caesar wouldn't be getting into there in a hurry with a large cage barring entry and a high door handle.  However, Caesar proves time and time again that Caesar does as Caesar pleases.  And, though these items had been months in the dining room, it seems that something as simple as Damien leaving for the week can cause a major change in Caesar's behaviour.

So; compromise, sacrifice and forgiveness.

Compromise; maybe you can come to bed if you find it so difficult to be alone.

Sacrifice:  I'll give up a nights sleep to be by your side when you're sick.

Forgiveness:  I'll forgive you for throwing up on my carpet and eating my sweets if you can forgive me for leaving them where you could get to them.

Why SARA?

Choosing a rescue centre can be difficult.  And, for more unsure people, like me, intimidating.  National rescue organisations produce nerve wracking guidelines for new owners specifying the amount of time that they should be at home as well as other duties that need to be carried out.  And, this is what put me off even trying to adopt from one of these.  I felt irresponsible before I'd even spoken to the organisation about the plans I had in place for caring for the animal while I was working.  The fact was stated there in black and white, I worked full time and therefore wasn't a suitable owner.

This was disheartening.  I'd always wanted a pet and working full time was the only way of financially affording to look after a pet properly.  I was stuck and didn't dare to approach an organisation for fear that I'd be shot down with the bullet of "unsuitability".  It was my aunt who called SARA for the first time asking if I could go for a chat.  They were local and she felt would have time to listen to my circumstances and help me to make the right decision.  She also assured me that, in 2012 (as it was then), most modern couples worked and that meant that we were responsible people with a steady income who could care for a pet.  It did seem to make sense.

One of our first walks with Caesar at SARA

I found SARA (Saltburn animal rescue association) less than a mile from my home, hiding on a farm up a small track that I'd driven past a hundred times and never so much as glanced at.  I was nervous when I got there and worried that I might be shot down.  The only confidence that I felt was that I had things in place for while I was at work should I be allowed to adopt; my dad had agreed to spend time at the house or take the dog to his own home and, if that didn't work out, I could hire a dog walker.  Did that still make me unsuitable?

SARA helped me to create a care plan for Caesar and, later, when he wasn't reacting well to it, adapt it.  They did a home check but, beforehand, explained to me it's purpose; to ensure that I wasn't hoarding millions of dogs/pets and that I lived in a home that was big enough for a dog.  They laughed when I recounted internet posts that I had read about the horrors of being asked millions of questions.  They even loaned me a crate to get started with helping Caesar feel comfortable while I was away.  The seemed assured that my heart was in the right place and that I would look after this dog to the best of my ability whether I be employed full time or not.

The support from SARA didn't end when we walked through the gates with Caesar though.  Weeks after, I was still in contact with the centre as they battled to help me settle him in; they introduced me to a dog trainer and offered me some one-to-one sessions, they counselled me on the phone for hours after Caesar had had a mishap.  And, they invited me to bring him back to the centre for them to check out.  I still visit SARA now and again and the first question they ask when I get there is "how are Caesar and Gemma?"  The form that I signed on their adoption told me that, if anything should happen to me, Caesar and Gemma will have a place in their care until the next caring owner comes along.  This is the kind of reassurance that a new owner needs - the stabalisers on a brand new bike, if you like.  And it's something that can only be offered by a caring adoption centre.

Most importantly, a trip to the centre proved that SARA knew their dogs.  They genuinely cared for Caesar, I could tell that as soon as they brought him for me to look at.  This care was extended to the rest of the dogs who they would casually and warmly chat about in the offices.  The and cats lived on a farm surrounded by greenery and a lovely forest path; if I was a homeless animal, I am hard pushed to imagine somewhere better to be temporarily homed.

But, perhaps the biggest reason for my loving this rescue is that they saved both Caesar and Gemma from the pound.  Volunteers kept Caesar from being taken when there was no kennel space and staff brought Gemma from the pound to be cared for at the farm.  They then had her checked over by vets and began to investigate her weight loss.  In order to make her more adoptable as an old, scrawny looking lady with a lot of missing teeth; they offered the little dog a pension plan to cover and age-related or pre-existing medical conditions.  Since, I've seen this happen on numerous occasions.  Gemma would have sat at the pound until she could no longer because she was scrawny, ill looking and old, SARA gave her more than a second chance.

And, goodness know what would have happened had Caesar ended up there; an entire male who couldn't help himself from bouncing off the walls.  Who's hands would he have ended up in?  That being said, Caesar ended up in my hands; and SARA have been there all of the way.

Today is the last day to make a donation to SARA.  I wanted to celebrate all of the wonderful people who took part in the advent calendar project and who have donated so far.  If you can find it in your heart to give a few pounds to SARA in the name of 'Saving Caesar' please donate here:

Click here to go to Saving Caesar's SARA donation page

And, for more information about this wonderful centre, click here.

What I've learnt in 2013...

Life with Caesar has been a roller-coaster from the day we adopted him.  He teaches me something new every day but I decided to summarise with the top 10 things I've learnt from him this year:

At number 10:
You can't beat a bed time cuddle...
Although we had never intended to let Caesar in the bedroom, let alone on the bed!  I must say, I've slept much better since discovering how therapeutic it can be to cuddle a toasty warm and very soft dog.  This has become more evident recently when I've spent an increased amount of time in bed due to feeling under the weather.  Caesar has been my constant companion, hot water bottle and teddy bear!  I don't think he minds...

At number 9:
Weigh up the means and the outcome...
It occurred to me the other day that Caesar goes on the furniture.  He sometimes sleeps in our bed and, although he's not supposed to, I frequently find him sitting on the settee.  Does this bother me?  Not as much as I had anticipated.  When we first got Caesar, we insisted that he would not be allowed on any furniture and then spent the next six to eight months fighting him off the furniture! What was he doing on the furniture?  Lying down....   In the end, I thought to myself...why does it matter?  And since then, it's been much easier to control.  Caesar rarely wants to get on the furniture and, when he does, he will get down when told.  My life is much easier for not having to chase him off the furniture.

Is that a smile now that you're on the sofa?

At number 8:
He can do it at home, but don't assume he'll do it elsewhere...
Caesar is very receptive to training and will sell his soul for a tasty morsel...in the house.  However, take him outside of the house and things are a little different.  This year I have lost far too many points at dog training by assuming that Caesar will be able to apply his learning in the house to other scenarios....it rarely happens.  And, it NEVER happens at crucial moments like in the park when there's another dog...

Well behaved inside but outside it's a different story!

At number 7:
Never leave Christmas presents in the dining room...
...and definitely not ones of the chocolate variety.  As a side note to this; plastic crates are not secure enough...

Just waiting to get the presents from under the tree!  

At number 6:
Never play-fight with a dog who has just drank a lot of water...
Damien and my carpet learnt this earlier this month when, after jumping around in the front room for a while, Caesar had a huge wee all over my rug!

At number 5:
A decent walk is good for the soul...
Sometimes, when things get tough, you can't necessarily be bothered to put on your wellies and go walking somewhere.  But, once you get out in the ankle deep sludge, fresh air and long grass, it's amazing how quickly anxieties fade away.  Caesar and I have been on some lovely walks this year, sometimes with a friend or two, sometimes on our own.  Whatever the weather, whatever the place, a good walk can clear the mind!

At number 4:
Baby gates are a waste of money (as dog defense mechanisms)...

Enough said.

At Number 3:
He will come back...
No matter how bad Caesar can be if he gets away...so far, he has always come back.  While we were on holiday in the Lake District this year, he opened the caravan door and left...  Damien found him sitting where my car had been (I'd gone to the garage).  And, during a walk one day, I fell over and the lead slipped from my hand.  He didn't leave me, just ran circle around me!  ....There was no one else around though...

At number 2:
Never say never 
This year, Caesar has broken into my high-security kitchen, defeating my 'award winning doorknob' which I believed to be Caesar proof.  This, only weeks after I had posted about how pleased I was that the kitchen was now penetrable.  On a positive note though, I was able to let him off the lead with a group of dogs - something I thought I'd never see!

At number 1:
With time, patience and hard work, anything is achievable!
It has been a year of huge successes.  Here are just a few:
- First off lead dog walk with other dogs.
- Lots of new commands learnt
- Record time of undamaged belongings
- Able to live with another dog
- Crate trained (finally)!
-  First holiday - and he didn't trash the caravan, terrorise other campers or run away!

And, of course, 2013 has seen the launch of Caesar's blog:  Saving Caesar.  Thanks for reading everyone and I hope to see you all in 2014 for more 'Antics of a Rescue Dog!'

If you'd like to post some things that you've learnt from your dog, I'd love to hear them!  Leave a comment.

Two steps forward...

I'm the queen of procrastinating.  If I know that I have to do something, I find every other important thing to do before I address the important task.  Yesterday, I had lots of work to do so naturally I; updated my blog, called my parents, visited my parents, went to the supermarket, visited my grandparents and finally arrived home with two trees for the planters which I then intended to plant.  This is when I got a text message asking if I wanted to go out tomorrow.  I did.  So I thought to myself 'Come on Sian, if you want to go out tomorrow, you really must get some work done.'  

'OK.  Now what needs to be done?'  I checked my blog stats, my emails, my social network.  These were not things that needed to be done.  "Shall we take the dogs for a walk?"  It was now eight o'clock and, since sitting down to 'get things done' at ten in the morning, I had done none of my work.  However, after yesterday's success, I was keen to show Damien how well behaved Caesar could be.  I was going to take him off the lead on the beach.  It was bound to be fairly quiet at this time of night and I, if a dog did appear, at least we could be confident he wasn't going to hurt it, at least not purposefully.

Unfortunately, there were more people on the beach than I had anticipated and I walked Caesar for a while on his lead.  Eventually, I found a stretch of deserted beach and hastily unclipped him.  The sky was darkening and the sand filled with shadowy shapes.  Is that a dog or a piece of flotsam?  Did I just see something moving?

It was hard to make out the shapes on the beach.

After a while, I suggested we turned around.  Time was moving on and the beach was getting darker.  Soon it would be hard to find our way back to the car.  In the distance there were two shapes.  They appeared to belong to a couple of teenagers who we had passed earlier.  They were playing on the sand.  Caesar was impeccably behaved and trotted only a few metres away before returning for a treat.  "Good boy!" I'd say in my comedy voice handing him a smelly piece of meat.  These treats stunk and I was pretty sure they weren't good for him, but, at the end of the day, he responds to them because he loves them and he knows when I've got one because it stinks.  "I wonder how fast he can run..." Damien mused as Caesar came haring back to us for treats.

Caesar, where are you going?

A little further down the beach, Caesar's ears pricked up.  He could see something that interested him.  I looked around but there was nothing apart from the teenagers running back and forth.  I assumed he had mistaken a nearby piece of tree for another animal and carried on walking.  The next moment, Damien's question had been answered and Caesar took off at a sprint towards the running teenagers.  Panic stricken, and remembering the time that he took me down on the same stretch of sand by lunging at my legs, I bellowed for him to come back but he just kept running.  Luckily, the two shapes seemed to know what to do, they stopped running and began to walk towards Caesar, perhaps offering to bring him back.  The instant that they stopped, he was no longer insterested, he turned on his heel and galloped back towards me and Damien, the thrill of the chase was gone.  My heart returned to normal pace after a few minutes and I immediately clipped Caesar's lead to him.  "You silly dog!"

Not what you want to see running towards you
at full speed!

I couldn't believe, when we had seen the light at the end of the tunnel with one problem, we immediately come across another.  Is there no end to his antics?

Does your dog chase?  Have you or your dog ever been chased?  What would your reaction be to seeing a dog running after you?  Let me know in the comments section.