For the first time, when she came out of my bedroom in the morning for her walk, Bella did not circle back when I looked at her.  She came with me to the door and waited while I put on my scary coat and slipped into my shoes.

For the first time, when I put down her breakfast, Bella began eating without looking to see if I had safely turned away and positioned myself in my chair.

Last night, Bella got off her bed and stretched out on the nice, cool cement floor.  For the first time, she did not get up and scurry to her bed out of sight when I came into the room and got into bed myself.  Later, when I got up for a moment, she did retreat to her bed, but she still gets this as a a first because she was relaxed enough to stay comfortable, even if briefly.

For the first time, Bella let me lead her up the driveway at a trot without pulling to circumnavigate the yard.  No more wet shoes for me, and a fun little fast walk for her.

I think she is less scared of me!

Yesterday, I put on my coat and stuffed a doggie bag in my pocket.  As I got on my shoes, I turned to call Bella, and there she was, already silently by my side.  This morning, as I dressed, Bella got up and came toward me.  When I looked at her, she turned back to her corner, but she came easily when I walked to the front door.  She's never gotten up and moved while I was in the room before.   She's never walked toward me before.

During the night, I heard quite a bit of movement.  There was head shaking and the sound of toenails crisscrossing the floor.  When I awoke, I expected to see Bella's blanket all messed up and a torn stuffed animal, but the room as as neat as ever, and Bella was curled on her bed.

Yesterday, overly optimistic, I let a friend accompany us on our walk, a bit behind me.  It made Bella nervous for an hour afterwards.  Later the trainer, Karolin, reminded me that Bella isn't ready to meet anyone new yet.  So I am attempting to balance my patience and excitement, as I watch the meds take affect.  Dr. Sarah is staying in touch, and the three of us, Bella's team, are watching her slow emergence from the catatonia of shut-down.

At some point last night I heard a lone howl.  It sounded like the moan of a creature mourning her many months of captivity, a captivity I do not understand but can only surmise from her current behavior. Several times in the night I heard the sound of her shaking her ears.  When Dr. Sarah visited more than a week ago now, she had asked me to wipe her ears out with an astringent of tea; her left is dirty.  I haven't done it yet as I am hesitant to handle her.  I'll try today.  Bella is perky and interested this morning.  She allowed me to adjust her walk slightly, with only a brief tug of war.  (I don't want to keep walking through the grass when we return from our walk because I don't want tick exposure. I've decided to lead her up the driveway at the start and finish of our walk.)  Bella accepted her morning dose easily, wrapped in turkey and gravy.  She took each bite from my hand.   When I put her breakfast down, Bella ate immediately, with only a very brief pause to look at me cautiously mid way through her meal.  Overall, she seems more alive.

Buried in some partly chewed turkey and gravy, Bella took her first dose of Ativan tonight at 7:30.  I feel like a sorceress.  Now we pray...

In many ways, Bella has changed very little in the 7 weeks since she has come to live with me.  She stays in my room all the time unless she is walking with me.  In my room, she stays on her bed.  But subtly, she is changing in slow, distinctive ways.  She's on her bed, and not on the floor.  She is interested in the treat I offer after each walk, and has learned to expect it.  She often takes chicken from my hand, and sometimes a dog treat.  Bella seems to be cautiously refining her awareness of the world around her.  She varies her walk depending on her mood.  The first walk of the morning is rather short.  Is that because breakfast comes right after it?  Although she is not sniffing the ground, there are certain places along the way that she checks out visually, turning her head to look in the direction of the area that concerns her.  Is the dog that sometimes barks near this house around?  What's happening in the house with the puddle in front of it?  I saw a person going into it once. 

She is a little bit better about cars.  Not every car causes a sharp tail tuck and a picked up pace.  If the car drives by slowly, giving us a wide berth, as some considerate drivers will do, Bella seems fine.  The big vehicles, the noisy ones, and the fast ones make her nervous, but usually she recovers quickly.  If not, she will turn and lead us to the safety of home.  Bella Is frightened by people, and especially by people with dogs.  She is also concerned about dogs without people-the neighbor's Rottweiler in the electric fence who charges at her barking, and the unseen barker a few houses down who seems pretty assertive when seen.  I don't think she would be frightened of a mild mannered dog in an off leash setting.

Bella is beginning to express her opinion.  I usually lift her tail as she pees to avoid it getting wet.  She has decided she doesn't like this and moves her rump aside when she pees, inconveniently placing her tail just out of reach.  (This conversation between us isn't concluded yet.  I don't want her to pee on her tail!)  She has also indicated some reluctance to be petted on the porch.  I usually haven't been petting Bella since the trainer has suggested that I wait for her to approach me.  The exception to this is when we arrive at my porch after our walk.  I'll pet her just a bit under the chin as a sort of test.  Bella has indicated this is not ok by not stepping all the way onto the porch when we come home.  I've stopped, and now she is back to standing patiently on the porch as I deal with the poop bag or wipe her feet.  For some reason, she accepts the foot wiping process.  She is less keen on the butt wiping process when it is necessary, but cooperates.  She has the habit of beginning to walk before she has finished her toilet business, making the indignity of a butt wipe mandatory.  Galen, one of the Bernese Mountain Dog Rescue gals, remarked that dogs can be like little children with food on their face and hands-they don't mind at all!  Bella may well have been accustomed to defiling herself in her cage, and may be eager to keep walking if she feels vulnerable doing her business.

As I hope for improvements in Bella with the administration of medication,  I thought I would share the behavior evaluation that Karolin Klinck did.  It might be of interest to those who are following Bella's progress.  

05-11-19 Bella
prepared by Karolin Klinck

Behavior evaluation
Bella presents as an extremely fearful dog. She is shut down and spends most of her time in ‘her’ corner in the bedroom. She comes for Leslie when she calls her to go for a walk but presents fearful body language. During the walk Bella is very stressed and shows fearful body language (tail down, fast walking with pulling on leash (flight), nervous head movement, whale eyes (showing the white of her eyes, not interested in her environment, no sniffing)).
Bella eats her food when Leslie puts it on her bed and sits in the room but Bella would not get up to go to her food as long as Leslie is in the room.
Bella started taking chicken from Leslie’s hand. Still reluctant and not consistently. She did not take it when I was in the room but ate it after we both left the room.
Bella is not moving around the house unless it is to go outside. She doesn’t leave her room to go outside when someone else besides Leslie is home.
When I observed how Bella is reacting to Leslie’s touch and approach, I saw a shut down dog who is uncomfortable with any interaction.
She did not growl or show teeth. I didn’t see any signs of aggression.
Due to the severity of Bella’s fear, I highly recommend a consultation with a veterinary behaviorist.

First steps:
* Show Bella that she has choices (if she comes out of her room to go outside, take her. If not, leave her. If Bella moves her head towards your hand with the chicken, give it to her. If not, just put it near or. Don’t touch her unless she moves towards you)
* Show Bella that making a choice never hurts (none of her choices will have any negative reaction from humans. I don’t expect Leslie to punish Bella for anything but wanted to mention it!)
* Pair Leslie’s approach with good stuff (Leslie enters the room, offers chicken. If Bella moves her head towards her, she give it. If Bella doesn’t, she puts it on the bed and leaves.)
* Teach her that moving around the room is safe (one of her meals is being put two steps away from Bella’s bed, so she has to get up to eat. For now, Leslie will leave the room during that meal time.  (the other meal is given on her bed but with Leslie in the room)
* Show Bella that her bed is her safe heaven (don’t sit on her bed. That’s her space. Don’t let visitors in ‘her’ room)
* Keep the walking routine the same, so Bella can start feeling safer on her walks. Routine gives safety!
* Give her all the time she needs to break out of her shell – Bella decides when it’s safe to make the next step.
* Read to her (but don’t sit on her bed)
* Suggested reading: Debbie Jacobs ‘Guide to living with and training a fearful dog”.
* A great website is: fearfuldogs.com (there is also a facebook group that has a nice webinar)
* A fantastic resource for body language is: ispeakdog.com
* Consult with a veterinary behaviorist to get medication started to give Bella some relief from her severe anxieties.
​
Team K9 LLC - Karolin Klinck, CTC Contact: 541-272-9464; [email protected]

Usually, when I go to bed, Bella is in her corner and I don't hear a sound from her.  She is at the foot of my bed, so she could easily look at me if she sat up, but she doesn't.  When the lights are out, I sometimes hear her get up and lap water, or groan lazily and stretch out, off her bed, on the cool cement floor.  But if I stir, she is back on her bed in the corner before I even catch sight of her.

Last night was more of a slumber party.  For the first time, Bella seemed to pay attention to the fact that I was sleeping near her.  She sat up and looked at me in bed.  When I got up to get something, she followed me keenly with her eyes and even stayed seated instead of crunching down into her bed.  She did pant more, as if suddenly considering me a bit of a danger, but this faded some time after I turned off the light and she settled down to sleep.  I felt that I suddenly had a wary companion in my bedroom rather than a ghost.

Dr. Sarah and the veterinary behaviorist were finally able to connect.  The behaviorist was very nice, according to Sarah, and offered a plan for medicating Bella.  Bella will be begin with a dose of Ativan 2 to 3X a day.  After 5 - 7 days, we will add Paxil, if all goes well.  Hopefully this will begin the end of Bella's shut down.  I'm ready for a rocky ride over the next few weeks, and hoping that Bella won't become aggressive.

At the advice of trainer, Karolin Klinck, I've read Debbie Jacobs' A Guide to Living with and Training a Fearful Dog.  Jacobs suggests that every dog needs a hobby.  I thought that I might suggest chewing to Bella as a good hobby to take up.  It's portable, can be done from bed, and has many variations with regard to the item chewed.  A great many dogs chew, and enjoy it, so I thought that with a nudge, Bella, too, could discover the art of chewing.

First I offered her a piece of jerky.  She didn't seem to know what to do with it, but later, when I searched her bed it was nowhere to be found.  So unless her stuffed dog took care of it, Bella chewed it up.

Then I offered a lamb's ear.  Disgusting, I know, but it was one of the delights offered at the pet shop I frequent, so I thought I would give it a go.  Bella regarded me questioningly when I gave it to her, and later, when I came in to check out her progress, the lamb's ear was intact near her front paw as dry and unsullied as could be.

I decided to make the lamb's ear more enticing with cheez whizz.  The results of this experiment are that the cheez whizz disappears, but the lamb's ear remains like a used dish.  A second round of cheez whizz is currently on offer, but I suspect this may not be a hobby Bella is inspired by, at least at this time.  So what next?  Suggestions?  

Bella watches me continuously.  Her soft brown eyes follow me, soulfully computing my intention.  I don't think I am entirely to be trusted yet, and I am a person of interest.  

Nevertheless, Bella's cooperativeness is impressive.  Today I had to, finally, vary our walk.  The path through my yard has become a muddy river, several inches deep of paw-clinging goop.  So with encouragement, I drew Bella around the house and to the street via the driveway.  We went past the scary car to the reassuring line between pavement and grass, and marched quietly into the fog of the morning.  On our return, we renegotiated.  Bella decided that we would indeed have to go through the tall wet grass to the back porch, and I capitulated.  

Sometimes I feel like the mother of a newborn whose baby is crying and she doesn't know why.  Am I a bad mother, will Bella ever feel unafraid, even of me?  But then she comes again to the door at just the sound of my boots being pulled on, and silently waits for our walk.  In our room at night she watches me if I get up to use the bathroom, as if she is wondering, what's up, Mama?  And sometimes, she waits for me in a sitting position on her bed, whether it is for my return to the room, or to deliver food.  I have to believe that a deep, slow connection is forming.

While secretly I still hope that the day will come when Bella can hop eagerly into the car for a trip to the park, I know that even if she stays the way she is today, I accept her and love her as she is.  I guess that's being a mama.

I was thinking about Bella's affinity for edges.  She seeks the edge of the road and the edge of the yard, nervously clinging to the line that she perceives.  Crossing the road is done rapidly, as she eagerly seeks the line to walk next to.  I imagine her in her cage, the small box that she lived in for most of her life.  It was a square or rectangle; defined by edges.  Now, finding herself in the vast space of the world, she looks to see the edge again.  First uncomfortable confinement, and now the terrifying freedom- this is my prayer for you, Bella: May you learn to move easily in the openness of your boundless world.  

Yesterday the kindest of vets, Dr. Sarah, visited us in preparation for the use of anti-anxiety medication.  Bella cooperated with Sarah despite her fear.  I thought it best to bring Bella outside for the exam in order to reserve the sanctity of her room, and so that she would stand for the exam.  Although she did not accept the chicken treat bribe, Bella tolerated Sarah's touch and even made some eye contact with her.  Through out the gentle procedure, Bella tracked me, turning her head woefully after me if I stepped inside for a moment.  Afterwards, I thought I would give Bella a walk, but when I opened the door to get my boots, she tore inside frantically.  She knew enough to stop briefly in the foyer, allowing me to disconnect her leash, before retreating to her room, which she then did, in great haste.  From the safety of her bed, Bella finally ate her chicken, and rested, panting.  Since Dr. Sarah's visit, she has shortened her walk slightly, and tucked her tail a bit more.