2017: The Year Everything Changed - Part 1

As I sit writing this on January 1, 2018, I can't help but reminisce (like you do) on the year preceding. 2017 has been a pivotal year of unprecedented growth and transformation for me and my pack, and it's kind of the "origin story" of Roots K9, so I wanted to share it with you here. 

A year ago, I KNEW something was up with my dogs. We had been dealing with occasional dog fights for a number of years prior, and, like many others before us, we had taken a "hands off" approach. Our belief was that they should "work it out" and figure out where they fit in the pack on their own terms. One of reccomendations of a popular blog suggested that I simply leave the room when they start to fight, so they will see that "fighting gets them no attention." Another suggested to "reinforce the alpha status of your older dog" by giving her privileges and special treatment. And that's exactly what we had been doing. Yeah, we noticed the fights increase through the years, but they were still not frequent enough that we felt we needed to take action. 

In December 2016, we had holiday guests for two weeks, and the tension between them was palpable. They always had "tantrums" when guests were around, but this was another level. This year, Margo spent a lot of time hiding in our bedroom. In previous years she was the life of the party - she loved hanging out with our extended family. Every time I looked at her, her eyes looked different. She wouldn't look directly at me, and I could see the whites of her eyes when Abby was in the room. She appeared to be bracing for something. She wouldn't even allow us to pet her when Abby was near, she would move away or run out of the room. Pretty soon, she just started to run away when she saw Abby coming.

At this time Margo was considered our "problem dog" due to her high excitement levels and skittish, submissive personality. A few days after Christmas, my sister in law and I were sitting on the bed having coffee. Margo ran into the room and body slammed herself onto our bed, knocking a few things over on our nightstand. I yelled at her and she cowered, and then I felt guilty. I was baby talking and petting her on the bed, and I said, soothingly "I'm not upset with you, I'm upset with your behavior." At that moment, Abby attacked. They brawled right there on our bed as I screamed for my husband to come help. 

Giving Abby a bath later, I watched as the bloody water circled the drain. I opened her mouth to check for damage, running my finger along the rows of razor sharp teeth. I came to the sudden realization that I was living with a predator whose main design objectives revolved around ripping flesh from bone.  A predator who felt it necessary to put teeth on the other dog living in the home. Looking towards our what I felt was an inevitable future, I tabulated the the estimated veterinary costs if their fights became worse. We had already spent thousands in vet bills removing illicitly ingested items and substances, and now I worried we'd have to start taking them in to be stitched back together.

 I began to feel differently towards them. I didn't trust them. Their behavior seemed less quirky and more scary. Instead of cowering during the fights as per usual, Margo started to fight back - and come back for more. Abby emerged from these fights with more damage than ever.. One day in early spring, Abby attacked Margo out of the blue in the living room while my husband and I were cooking dinner. This had never happened before - the fights were always over food or human attention. 

"What am I going to do with you two?" I agonized. We decided to do the responsible thing and get a trainer.