Mention aggression and dogs and you have owners shuffling incidents under the rug and lawyers salivating. Nevermind that there are different forms of aggression and some breeds should indeed maintain aggression (along with a balanced temperament). Often, dogs come into our lives with more baggage than we expected, more baggage than we are prepared to handle. Sometimes things happen which spiral out of control, sometimes nothing happens but the gun is always loaded and cocked, so to speak. Out of these, sometimes careful management makes situations work, other times a dog has to be rehomed, but unfortunately some stories have a dark ending.

Before I continue, nothing has happened with Renji but it is an ongoing management/training/socialization dance. We started a new agility class where we run several pieces of equipment at a time and my trainer briefly told the class about Renji but also said we had lovely control. To anyone with a dog with issues, that's icing on the cake and cream filling as well. But I always wonder "what if" followed by "what's next?"

Let's talk about aggression and incidents. Thoughts, opinions, hypotheticals, stories from the past, etc. How much is "too much?" Should decisions be made if the risk is very high but without an incident or should management be the name of the game unless and until things go wrong? If bad things happen, would situational context take effect or is it zero-tolerance? Of course, it's one thing to talk and another to experience, but my thoughts with my current/future dogs would beanything fear or legitimately protection related are not grounds for euth but unprovoked aggression bites are. There are saints out there who can deal with aggression cases involving aggressive bite histories successfully but I don't know that I have it in me. Some people feel energy should be spent on the many wonderful dogs with few issues whereas others will dedicate their lives and rearrange their worlds so a dangerous dog that is generally good may continue to live.

Please, no judging. This is a very difficult, painful, personal topic for many to discuss. There is no solution to be had, only further insight into a difficult aspect of the human-canine relationship.

Interesting topic, gal.

Thor. The perfect example of what you're talking about. He came to me just shy of 1 year old, having spent his entire puppyhood from 3 months old tied to a tree on a 6 ft. chain, food/water dropped near him and left entirely alone. When he arrived, he had no clue of commands, not housebroken, and totally unsocialized...isolated in his behavior and in pain from bad hip. We resolved the hip and the pain but he remained fearful thoughout his life.

He bonded to me, in spades. I was his world of safety and love. I, unfortunately at the time, did not know enough to realize how important 'socialization' with the rest of the world was to his well-being and growth. Thus, I did not recognize what I clearly know now was fear aggression. He was afraid of anything and everything. While in the house, thunder, lightning, sound of waves, animals on the television. Outside the house, it was everything right down to grass growing. The only important thing to him was me...being sure I was there and safe from any harm (perceived or actual). Any person, dog or car approaching and he'd stiffen and watch like a hawk. He'd pull on the leash if a person or dog came too close to me, ears up, eyes like a laser, hackles up. I was always 'hanging on to him' rather than walking him.

Stopping to talk to a neighbor we had spoken to many times in the past, Thor (without any warning, no hackles raised, no growl, nothing) lunged and bit the man in his knee. After a visit to the doctor to check out the wound, a call to AC, and a meeting with all parties, everyone agreed that Thor had felt threatened. The gentleman was carrying a huge bundle of branches and a bag of cans (which rattled) and he talked with his hands, swinging the branches in my direction. Even the man himself begged AC not to hurt Thor, that he was only protecting me from what he saw as the man possible attacking me with branches/bag.

Thor spent 10 days in quarantine and came home to me again. Some time later, we were out again when the neighbor was seen by Thor from a distance. He took off and cornered the man again, nipping at his legs (scratched his skin but no direct bite). Once again, AC called, 10 more days in quarantine, and Thor named by county a 'potentially dangerous dog', not allowed off property without a leash and muzzle. Oh how he hated that muzzle. I used to say, "No complaining, buddy, you were the one who bit at poor George, not me." Yet I know now that it wasn't all his fault. It was as much mine for not dealing with his issues better than I did.

This past February, my poor Thor, the sensitive fearful dog with the touchy tummy who had a running prescription of metronidazole because he was either barfing or pooing liquid poo all the time) passed away from a bout with bloat (something else I knew nothing about until it happened). He was only 8 years old. His life had been full of issues, some my fault for not knowing enough about a problem dog to know how to handle him. I know now and would have done things much differently if I had the chance again. I should add, a lot of my learning has come from folks on sites like this, who have talked to me, sent me books, and supported me through all my mistakes, for all of which I am eternally grateful.

Though I felt horrendously guilty for not seeing the difference between one of his usual tummy upsets and bloat, thus not saving his life, my dear vet told me I probably could not have done so even if I had driven the 70 miles to his office, assuming I could have gotten 100 pounds of dog into the truck in the first place. And both he and the director of AC assured me that not only was Thor probably much happier to have been home with Freya and me during his last moments than on a steel table in a vet's office, but that he had lived a better life than anyone else would have afforded him. Most people would have put him down ages before, given how many issues he had.

I just wish I had understood what those issues were earlier in his life (like right after he came to me maybe?), that I could have done the right things to have assuaged his fears and corrected his problems, and most of all that he could have lived a fuller and happier life. I know that home with just Freya and the two cats is much less tense, much calmer now. I never realized how much tension Thor and his problems added to the house day to day until it wasn't there. Yet still, I miss him, more than I could ever imagine.

I don't know if this is the kind of tale you were looking for but this is my experience with a dog with fear aggression. Should he have been put down? Would he have been even worse if I had not worked with him in an increasingly knowledgeable manner as both he an I grew older? Should I have even kept him in the first place or should I have re-homed him from the get-go with someone better qualified to handle aggression issues? These are questions that haunt me, even all these months later.

I could handle a fear aggressive dog now, though I'd rather not have to. They are wearing. If I were to rescue another dog, I'd much rather find one like Freya, who, if I had time and money, would like to certify as a therapy dog. She is so gentle, laid back and quiet... and easy to live with. *smiles*

Hope this wasn't too long and boring and addressed your topic.

It's easy for me to say, but I don't think any of those questions should haunt you. You were his safety net, his life. You didn't know if what you were doing was right or wrong, but neither did he. He knew you loved him and kept him safe. He tried to do the same for you.

It would have been a travesty to put this dog down - a travesty to you. This boy was everything you could handle at the time, but look what you have realized, what you have learned, what you will carry with you to your next trial.

This life was a blessing, not a mistake - but I don't think I have to tell you that.

I hope you don't mind. I kept the portions that applied directly to me and were worded perfectly. I hope that my story will make you feel better as well. There is only so much you can do, sometimes genetics trumps everything.

Madix, my Dutch Shepherd, was just like this description. The difference is that I got him at 10 weeks old. I spent so much time and money taking him to classes, socializing him, training him in SAR, agility, rally, obedience, flyball, dock jumping and eventually Schutzhund. He had the best trainer/behaviorist in the state (Brenda Aloff) and we had bi-monthly appointments. These were a necessity just so that I could manage him in the beginning. He was aggressive from the day I got him. He would hackle, growl, bare teeth and lunge, snapping at my face - and anyone else that made him nervous. He was called "abnormal" and I was told to euthanize him multiple times. No amount of training and socialization took care of this nerve issue. I was eventually told that I had done as much as training could do and the only option left was to sell him, medicate him to the gills or euthanize him. He could NEVER settle. He never was in a deep sleep, he was always on the alert, ready to go and ready to defend. In short, he was a nerve bag.

He nipped several people in the course of "learning", one of them, my young cousin - in the belly. No broken skin but he worried everyone. And my entire family adored him, immediate family only because those were the only ones he loved and trusted. He nipped a couple of strangers, or tried to. He also went after several people he knew and had worked for in the past, a behavior I stopped by sticking my own hand in his mouth. He would never bite Mom on purpose. I was at a loss, if he couldn't even be trusted around those he knew...what could I do...

Fortunately, the amount of time/energy/money/training I put into him made him a stellar working dog and I sold him to a Law Enforcement K-9 Narcotics training facility. They were thrilled to get him. I was beyond heartbroken. I still am. I loved that dog more than I thought I would or ever could. He knew my every mood, move and was such the sweetheart. He cuddled like no other and I still ache when I think of him. Regardless of his faults, I will love him forever and I will forever have shepherds because of his love, intelligence and drive to work with and for me no matter what.

That being said, I now have two extremely solid-nerved dogs. I don't know how I ever lived on edge, constantly watchful and constantly on the verge of grabbing my dog and protecting someone else's safety. Now, it's so much more relaxed. My stress level is greatly decreased. I can now compete in all of the things I spent years training for - as my current dogs can handle the trial atmosphere and I don't have to worry about someone looking at me too hard getting nailed.

I still miss him all the time though. <3 Madix

Very heartwarming stories.

It's a tough call living with a dog whose actions you cannot always predict. A dog who has the potential to become a liability on a leash. No one can make the call for you; you have to know what you can and cannot handle.

While I never really worry about Risa biting anyone, the potential is still there with her. She's fearful of people and dog reactive. Any time she's gotten in a tussle with another dog both dogs have come away unharmed (the worst we've had is some incidental contact scratches). It's up to me to keep her safe and if that means body blocking people, being rude, or doing whatever it takes to keep another being away from her--I do it. Fortunately, I rarely have to take things to such extremes.

But it is a tiring life. For a long time, walks were not fun. Every day was a potential for a reactive meltdown or her fleeing from a person who just didn't understand her fear. Both fortunately and unfortunately, she is an active dog and I had to get her outside. It forced me to learn what bothered her and how to train her to cope with the frightening world.

It's been an amazing adventure though not one I would wish on most people. I have often wondered if I was up to the task. It certainly took a boatload of learning on my part and a rethinking of much of what I thought I knew. I certainly would take another fearful, issue-y dog like Risa in the future. But not for a while. It really takes a lot out of you.

GrandJan, FG167, Caledon, and DancingCavy.

All I can say is WOW! You have brought me to tears. I don’t know if this is the kind of experience Diana was looking for but I do know I can empathize with you…and feel so much relief as well. It so helps to know others have been where I have. But do you know why you put up with it all? I take comfort in what you said, GrandJan:



Thor to me was like dealing with a troubled child…one wouldn’t toss aside, ‘re-home’ or put down one of your own children, no matter how many issues they had. With me, he was a big troubled baby but he was MY baby. Silly boy, he would have crawled into my lap if he could. He was always no more than inches away from my side. And when he knew someone (and he certainly got to know all the AC personnel on a first name basis *grins*), he was a real cuddler. I recall the day when the AC guy was sitting on the couch trying to tell me that he had been declared a “dangerous dog” and there was Thor, licking his face and leaning on his knee. Sooo dangerous. *snickers*

What I want to know is why I miss him (with all his tension raising troubles and issues) so very much. I love Freya, she is the dearest, most gentle girl…but she will never dig out my heart like Thor did. I’ve sometimes wondered if it was some part in my personality that ‘needed to be needed’ at the very time he came along. But then, maybe I am just over-analyzing. He was what he was . He was my boy. And I was his mom.

That’s all there is to say .. and I can’t help but admire you all who have or are dealing with the same kind of animal. It is not easy but there is something so fulfilling about giving them a life where they ‘belong’. And once again, GrandJan, you’re correct. Look what we’ve learned and how much more we can do the next time we come across another such dog who needs help… and a loving home.

Bless you. It's people like you that will help the troubled ones no one else wants or who believe should be euthanized at once, even though it creates persistent havoc in your lives and in the end, tears your hearts out.

Wow. So much of what you're all sharing is like looking at us in the mirror. I wouldn't know where to start to respond to individual comments so I will just say thank you for sharing. I had no idea there were people that shared my heart and soul and what a comfort you are to me.

I can't speak for anyone but myself but I think the reason I put up with the 'crap' so much is because working through it gives me a great sense of accomplishment. It forced me to learn and change my ways. Forced me to see things through another's eyes and really rethink my relationships and who I am. While I still do get frustrated easily, it happens less frequently now and I'm able to realize it and choose to act differently. Risa taught me that. When I first got her, I couldn't get stressed out about her without her picking up on it and shutting down. Which made me more frustrated and upset her more. Vicious cycle.

It's also amazing to think you took this fearful dog who could have turned out to be a liability in the wrong hands to a dog that most people wouldn't even think had a single issue. No one understands the amount of work, blood, and tears that goes into a dog like that unless they've been there. The way your heart almost explodes when someone compliments them or when they have a spectacular moment that, months ago, would have had a completely different (negative) outcome.

I wouldn't consider Risa fear aggressive; the worst thing she's done towards another human being is growl. But the potential is there. I've worked very hard to help her build up her confidence around the scary things in life. She's never going to be a confident, water-off-a-duck's-back dog. I'm always going to have to plan outings, manage interactions, and just get outta Dodge if things aren't going the way I'd like. It's a full time job. However, it gets easier as the year's go on because of all the training we've done.

Owning Risa has been as fulfilling as it has been frustrating. As much as I've loved every moment of our journey together, I want an easier dog next!

AMEN!