Posted on January 23, 2011 by: WayCoolDogs

He was tied to the railings of the stone stairway leading down to the kennels, by a piece of dirty frayed rope, and the rest of his coat was just as filthy and unkempt, so it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other started. When I asked, they told me he had been given up by a woman who said she couldn’t manage him, as he was too aggressive.

Since this has never stopped me before, I sat on the railing beside him and waited – nothing happened, so I tentatively rubbed his head. Still nothing happened, so I rubbed his ears and he made no sign of protest. Before I realized what was happening, I was snipping away at some of the matts which covered his entire body, and the staff members were looking at me and backing away, as if I had supernatural powers.

By the time I had a dish full of matted fur they were ready to put him in a cage, so off he went and the following day I took him out for a walk.  He came quite willingly and seemed to enjoy the walking up and down, and then we did a little work on his coat.  The next day was the same, and the next, this time I had him on my lap and he seemed quite comfy, and I was getting off loads of nasty matted hair.

He was also infested with ticks and though they had dipped him, many were still alive, including what looked like a whole colony on his face.  I grabbed the biggest one and pulled it off, and he growled and snapped at me, but I paid no attention, thinking he was perfectly entitled to snap as it must have hurt. On reflection, I decided the rest would have to wait till the tick and flea dip took full effect and hopefully they would fall off, so I continued to work on his body.

By the following day I had freed his ears from the matts hanging off them, and had cleared off his back and flanks, as well as the major part of both back legs, so what was left was his chest and the front legs.  In the meantime I could comb out the fur on his back which he seemed to enjoy, and all dogs love a massage down the spine.  So I felt very confident, perhaps too much so, as I had him on my lap facing out with my left hand around him rubbing his chest while the right started to deal with the matts on his front leg.

I was just musing to myself whether he might, in fact, be deaf, as he had not really responded to his name, or to whistles or the other usual doggy noises at all, and didn’t seem really enthusiastic about anything, when out of the blue he grabbed my fingers.  Fortunately it was the left hand, so I was able to use my right hand to pry his jaws off me, as he refused to let go.   Consequently both hands were bitten, although the damage to the right was minimal.

All this time he was still sitting on my lap, so I booted him off and called for someone to take him to his cage while, dripping blood, I headed for the clinic.  There they poured peroxide over me and then gentian violet, but I figured I would need more help and in any case wanted to check whether my tetanus shot was up to date, so took off, one-handed, for the nearest hospital, where I was thoroughly scolded for putting gentian violet on the various punctures and rips.

Why, I asked, and they explained because it obscures the vision and often they can’t assess the extent of the damage, so I promised I wouldn’t do it again (hah!). I was sent home with antibiotics, painkillers and a hand so wrapped up that it looked like I was preparing to put a boxing glove on and enter the ring.

The worst part of the encounter was that they immediately put Diego down, as I knew they would – the theory being that if a dog bites me, of all people, he can’t be trusted with anyone.  But all the same I started soul-searching. I believe the world is divided into two groups of people – those who immediately find someone else to blame for everything, and those whose first instinct is to blame themselves.  I belong to the latter group, and painstakingly began to retrace all the steps to see where I went wrong.  The warning signs were there, of course.

First, the woman’s reason for giving him up, then the reaction when I pulled off the tick, then, and perhaps most importantly, the fact that he hadn’t responded positively at all, because usually after a day or two I am greeted by wiggles and kisses, and at the very least a wagging tail.  Perhaps he WAS deaf, I will never know, but even so, what I took to be shyness, or introversion may very well have been him thinking – how much more handling can I take before I turn round and bite the hell out of this person?

I was put in mind of Shakespeare’s famous lines from Macbeth
I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself,
And falls on th’other. . . .

In the future I will have to be mindful not to be over-confident, or think that I am all-powerful, and hope that if another Diego comes along, I will watch more carefully, handle the situation better, and hopefully save him.

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Guest Post by Cindi Scholefield, a volunteer at the local animal shelter in Kingston, Jamaica. For any donations to Cindi and her dogs, please send to:
Eunice Crompton-Nicholas
c/o
Harry Dufour
9330 Dunhill Drive
Miramar
Florida 33025-3869

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