Maple Reach

It’s been six months since we adopted Henry (Blue Valentine — read his adoption story here). While this half-year milestone is significant for us, it’s a particularly significant month for Henry Blue in another way as well — February 3, 2022 marked the one year anniversary of his coming into the shelter in Cowlitz County, Washington, a stray with two severely broken/crushed legs and a “euthanize” decision hanging in the balance.

Around the anniversary of his coming into foster with OTATPDX, Henry’s kind foster mom, Mimi, sent me a nice note acknowledging the anniversary and sharing her appreciation for us adopting him. Truly, it was our great honor and fortune to adopt this amazing dog!

Not long after we adopted Henry Blue, Mimi sent me a video of “Blue Valentine” when he first came into OTAT’s care in February 2021. It’s hard to watch. But it’s easy to see why so many people advocated for this sweet dog.

Now let’s contrast that with this video of Henry, just about one year later, chasing a ball at the beach in February 2022. How far he has come!

We are aware that he will always have somewhat of a disability — his front legs don’t bend at the “wrist” because the bones are fused together for stability, so he has a unique, straight-legged gait. But that doesn’t stop him. Of course, we don’t let him over-do it, and for a dog, he’s remarkably good at letting us know when he’s had enough. Each time he runs, he runs a bit farther and faster and with less recovery time. It’s beautiful to see.

The very fact that Henry is chasing a ball in this video is significant. When we first brought Henry home, we were a bit surprised (and rather disappointed) that Henry never seemed to want to play. He showed very little interest in toys (unless they had food in them). He had a little blue ball that came from his last foster home that he would occasionally chew on if we sat it in front of him, but when we tossed it, he never chased it. He just looked at us like “Why did you throw my toy clear over there?” He eventually chomped his blue ball to bits and we had to throw it away. We gave him a new ball, but he showed no interest. Apparently it wasn’t his ball. We tried a Kong, a WestPaw bone, a rope toy, a rubber tug toy. With each one, initial curiosity waned in about 15 seconds. But we’ll come back to finding the right ball later…

I got him a squeaky hedgehog — I was certain this would be a game changer, because the hedgehog was a favorite of our last two dogs. As I stood there squeaking it gleefully in front of him he looked at me with what I could only describe as an expression of either WTF is she doing? or I pity this poor human who thinks that squeaking fuzzball is interesting. I wasn’t sure.

The only things he showed some modicum of interest in were cardboard toilet paper tubes, which he’d shred, leave the confetti on the floor and walk away. Maybe cardboard tubes were the toys of his youth?

What will make this dog happy?

I’d heard from many others, that when rescue dogs come into their new homes, they take a while to adjust, and sometimes they just don’t know how to play. Perhaps they were never given toys and never had a playful puppyhood, which is when most dogs learn their play skills. Often it takes six months or more for an adult rescue dog to learn to play.

Also, when Henry came to us, he was on some pretty heavy medication. Some meds were for pain and inflammation due to his legs, and he was also on a potent anti-anxiety drug and doggy Prozac for separation anxiety. Gradually, as Henry regained his strength and the swelling in his legs went down, he became more active. And, over the next three months, as he adapted to us and our household routines, he didn’t seem as anxious. So we worked with his vet to gradually wean him off of everything to see how he would do on his own.

The reduction of the medication, combined with Henry feeling more at home and confident that he was here to stay, caused a new dog to emerge — still sweet Henry, but brighter, sharper, more active and engaged in everything. The first thing we noticed is his tail (and it is a glorious tail) started wagging more and more until he became a walking feather duster (we’ve learned not to let anything delicate sit on a low table).

He started looking into our eyes more and hanging there longer without looking away or seeming threatened. (That gets the oxytocin going…studies show that dogs, like humans, make this bonding hormone when we touch and gaze into each other’s eyes.)

Then Henry started talking. He has now developed a whole new range of barks, growls, whines and what I could only describe as attempts at speaking human. And his full-on bark is LOUD. He doesn’t bark constantly (thank goodness). Noises don’t bother him much. Package deliveries and seeing strangers on our property always elicit a warning bark or two, but nothing like the “no off switch” alarm bark we had gotten used to with Kirby (RIP), our little terrier mix.

Most of Henry’s barks are sharp and focused — squarely at us or with whomever he is trying to communicate. There is no “barking for no apparent reason.” His reasons are usually very clear. He barks when he wants something from us (It’s time to go out, It’s dinner time, or You are selfishly eating in the car while I’m sitting here in the back seat starving). Most often his barks are to complain about something that isn’t going his way (or isn’t going his way fast enough). You are taking too long to put on your coat and shoes and I need to go out NOW.

We sometimes marvel at his emerging sense of entitlement in just a few short months — from crippled street dog who felt lucky to have kibble, a soft bed and a roof over his head to what he is now: lord of the Newton manor. (OK, our 100-year-old scruffy farm house is far from a manor, but there is no doubt Henry now considers himself royalty here.)

The first time we took Henry through a drive-thru espresso place, they asked if he wanted a “pup cup” (aka “puppaccino” in some quarters). We had never gotten these for our previous dogs, but we said “sure.” I held the cup and he approached it cautiously, as he did every new food item when he first came home with us. But one lick of that fatty whipped cream extravaganza and Henry practically levitated (I was reminded of Snuffles, a cartoon dog from my early childhood). He seemed amazed that some total stranger from outside the car window would do such a thing for him, it was as if it reinforced for him that humanity is OK.

Fast forward…Now he sits at the window and barks at the barista if they take too long to deliver his “drink.”

Needless to say, we don’t get him pup cups very often. If we did, it would not only reinforce this behavior, he’d look like a barrel. Now, if we drive away sans pup cup, Henry barks at us. Just once. Loudly. To let us know he is not pleased.

balls, beaches and Living up to his DNA

We decided to get Henry’s DNA done through Embark. His breed had been listed as “collie/shepherd mix.” We were pretty certain Henry had quite a lot of Border Collie in him. There’s something in the way he moves, the way he carries his mostly black-and-white tail, the way he jumps onto the couch and instantly curls up with that tail under his chin, the way he slinks toward the sheep (and how the sheep react to him when he does) that all seem so Border-Collie-esque. His coloring suggested to us German Shepherd or maybe Australian Shepherd (though Border Collies come in a range of shades too). Yet the shape of his face and muzzle with the slightly droopy jowls immediately made me think of a spaniel.

As it turns out, we were close!

Henry doesn’t have any German Shepherd in his recent ancestry, but Australian Cattle Dogs (aka Blue Heelers) do sometimes have that same black and tan coloring. And Henry definitely has some blue/white ticking all down his back. His Springer Spaniel ancestors weren’t a surprise and with that large nose, neither was the Lab. But Boston Terrier? That one remains a mystery.

With so much Border Collie and Cattle Dog, we were puzzled that he showed no interest nor aptitude for chasing balls or fetching anything at all. Perhaps he’d never had the chance? We took Henry to the beach several times and never brought a ball (we just didn’t think about it, after all, he wouldn’t fetch anything at home). We did try throwing sticks — again we got that I just found that great stick, why did you throw it down the beach look.

Then it happened. One rare warmish, sunny February day we took Henry to Manzanita — our favorite beach on the Oregon Coast. Because of the nice weather, there were a lot more people and dogs than during our previous visits, and every dog seemed to come with his or her own ball and human with a Chuck-it. Henry has always been great around other dogs, and has learned to (usually) come when we call him, so we’ve started letting him off leash more at the beach when other people have their dogs running off leash.

On this particular day, Henry started keenly watching the other dogs as they ran after balls and brought them back to their humans. One woman had two smaller dogs who each had their own ball. Henry befriended her little terrier. He watched as the woman chucked an orange rubber ball down the beach and the dog ran after it.

Henry suddenly took off and ran alongside the little dog. Being slower than the average dog his size (due to his legs), Henry barely outran the terrier, but he eventually did and the ball was his. I’ve never seen Henry look happier. Of course, he didn’t retrieve it, he carried it off to examine it. The woman thought it was funny. We told her Henry’s story and how he had never run after a ball before. Eventually the ball made its way back to us and we gave it back to the woman, who chucked it again for her dog, only to have Henry go after it again with pure glee. He carried it around, prancing, as if he were the proudest dog on the beach.

It’s been two weeks and that ball is seldom out of Henry’s sight unless he’s sleeping. (We literally have to take it away from him at bedtime most nights.) He tosses it, chases it, bats it around with his front legs. He licks it. Sometimes chews it. And other times he just gazes at it. It’s his favorite thing. It seems Henry just needed to “find” his own toy.

That beach video above? It was a little over a week later. We went back to Manzanita and hoped to see that woman again. I wished I had gotten her name and contact info, but it didn’t occur to me at the time. We were just enjoying the moment. This time I dug out our old Chuck-it and the ball fit perfectly. When we got to the beach, I chucked the ball and Henry took off after it. It was a marvel to watch. While my husband created a beautiful beach sculpture (it’s a tradition)…

…Henry and I played “chase the ball” over and over. Eventually Jamie got into the action as well (with better throws). I call it “chase the ball” because Henry’s retrieving skills still need some work. He likes to bring it almost all the way back and then lay down and chew on it, looking up at us with a look that says I dare you to take it. But when we approach with the Chuck-it, he backs off and excitedly lets us take it for another throw. Pure joy.

Henry’s definitely not as ball-obsessed as most Border Collies I’ve known. Maybe about 38.3% as obsessed (ha). But he definitely has found a pastime — and an object — he absolutely loves. It makes him happy. And that makes us happy!

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