So this sweet pea was deemed aggressive and placed on the “euth” list.  Through the wonderful network of social media, a sizeable GoFundMe account was established for him (I didn’t know: I usually do this stuff on my own dime), so his veterinary care and other expenses were covered!  I love good news like that!

He was certainly terrified: his partner was adopted and he has been alone in a high-kill shelter since May 25.  But he took treats out of my hand very gently; met Buddy very politely (and with his tail tucked firmly against his tummy); rode very quietly home for 90 minutes in the crate that I was told I would need before the aggressive dog would be released from the shelter.  He is currently unwinding on my back deck.  Out of an abundance of caution I told my mom not to feed him or to let the two dogs mingle but he was good to just take in the smells and sounds of High Valley when I left him.

If I had just stumbled across this boy, I would never have labeled him “aggressive.”  Not dog-reactive, not car-reactive, not human-reactive except apparently to shelter personnel.

(his shelter name was Apollo, but I don’t think he has any good associations with that name, so I’ve renamed him Polo)

The First 24 Hours

Sometime during the day: A hungry Polo confined to the back deck opened the chest freezer on the deck and ate 40 fish sticks.  He closely examined a Dream Dinner but apparently didn’t care for the salsa. HE. CAN. OPEN. THE. FREEZER!

8:00 PM: Polo is released into the yard.  He spent an hour poking around.  Not ready to come in, and free of his leash, he decided to be frightened, skittish and untrusting. 

9:30 PM: Polo discovered that he can jump (easily) over the wall along the driveway when I went out to secure the driveway gate.  Now he is at large.  No point in looking more for him in the total darkness, I left the gate open and headed for the house, hoping for the best.  He followed me and sailed over the wall into the back yard.  I secured the driveway gate again and once more tried to coax him somewhere where I could capture him. 

11:00 PM: He knows this strategy: no dice. I finally opened the basement door and told him he’d find it warmer in there than in the yard.  He ran up onto the deck ahead of me and I was finally able to lock him up.  Then he beat me into the house.  Buddy had helpfully showed him how a dog door works.

11:10 PM: I am too tired to try to crate him.  I head for bed.  He joined me and Buddy, who strong-armed him to the edge, and Polo eventually slept on a pile of clean clothes.

Sometime overnight: Polo ate half a loaf of French bread, mom’s breakfast toast.  Her reaction:  “Why that little stinker!”

Me, sheepishly: “Haven’t you missed having a Vizsla around the house?”

Her:

Me: (grin)

Her:

Polo, settling into Natasha’s recliner after a walk on leash…Entertainment value: high