SociaBulls: Walking with a Dog Who Won't Walk

One thing we love about our SociaBulls group is hearing the stories of so many dedicated owners and watching their pups evolve. Medgar is one special pup with a very dedicated dad who has been helping him get over his fear of....everything. While his dad was originally looking for a running buddy, newly adopted Medgar spent the first 4 months of his life refusing to walk outside his apartment. This 50 lb pup even had to be carried on his first few SociaBulls walks. And he was so petrified of the world around him, it took over half a year for him to wag his tail.

Here is the story of how dedicated his family (including his cat!) were helping him get over his fears, learning to walk, and even the ironic outcome of learning to wag his tail.

We are so happy to have Medgar, Blue and his people as part of our SociaBulls family. 

PS. Yes, we were all were clapping for you!

Pitbulls are the new Ponies

I was going to get a pit bull and name her Tulip.  She was going to be the most outgoing, fun-loving, and sociable dog on the planet.  She would be the perfect pit bull ambassabor.  She’d pick up newborn babies in her mouth and gently drop them in their crib, unscathed.  Thinking about planning an extravagant birthday for your spoiled young daughter? - Tulip would be there, saddled up and ready to make the birthday girl’s every wish come true.  Forget pony rides.  Tulip would introduce the world to Pitbull Rides.  She’d put ponies out of business.  Tulip would make pitbulls the new ponies.

When I was ready to find Tulip, I Googled: “weimaraner pit bull.”  You see, in addition to Tulip’s talents of gently carrying human babies and giving birthday pitbull rides, she was also going to be my running buddy.  The weimaraner in her would guide me on my long distance marathon training runs, and the pitbull in her would push me during my track and tempo runs.  I’d never seen or even heard of such a thing of a weimaraner pit bull mix, so I was expecting my initial search for Tulip to come up empty.

But then I found Medgar. One Tail at a Time had rescued Medgar from a shelter on the South Side of Chicago.  I immediately put in an application and was lucky enough to meet him at Parker’s in Hyde Park that very same day, which happened to be the day before my first Chicago Marathon.  I had found my running buddy.  I had found my Tulip.

32 Stairs

Medgar refused to walk outside the first 4 months I had him, and living in the city without a yard and with a dog, this was a huge problem.  He was scared of the entire world- noises, people, dogs, and inanimate objects.  As soon as I would get his leash to go outside, he would start shaking uncontrollably and tuck his tail between his legs as far as it could go.   He refused to budge even an inch and he wasn’t treat motivated.  I tried hot dogs, chicken, and cheese- he refused to eat anything.   So for the first couple months we lived together, every time he had to go out, I picked him up like a sack of potatoes and carried him like a baby, down 3 flights of stairs and onto the only patch of grass he felt was suitable to do his business.  As soon as he finished his outdoor chores, he sprinted as fast as he could to the entrance of my building. 

After a couple months of experiencing what it would be like to tote around a 54 pound baby, we both decided that it was time to do the normal dog-human thing- you know, I get the leash and attach it to his collar and then I walk on my two legs and Medgar on his four.  There were 14 stairs from my apartment to the second floor; 12 stairs from the second floor to the first; and 6 from the first floor to the street.  32 stairs, 1 dog, 1 human and our task was to get to the street without me carrying him. 

I’m a terribly impatient person.  Medgar didn’t really care.  I soon learned that most things in life with him would go step-by-step, stair-by-stair.  I’d sit a couple of stairs below him and try to coax him towards me.  Despite my upbeat urgings, Medgar would continue to shake uncontrollably, as if he had just sat naked through 4 quarters at Soldier Field in late January.  Eventually, he would compose himself, stop shaking, and take the most timid step you have ever seen.  1 stair down, 31 to go.  We followed this same pattern for the next 31 stairs, until we eventually got outside. 

The whole process took about 30 minutes.   And besides walking about 1 sidewalk square to do his business, he would refuse to walk a step further away from the apartment.  So we would sit on the porch and take it all in- people, dogs, the Red Line, and CTA buses (Medgar’s mortal enemy, especially when they stop to lower the bus to let passengers on, letting out a hiss).  All the while Medgar would shake and shake and shake.  He refused to make eye contact with me and was completely overwhelmed by everything in the outside world.  You could put a filet mignon in front of him and he wouldn’t even bother to look at it or smell it.

Medgar the Cat

Inside, it was a bit of a different story.  When he laid eyes on my 2 year old kitty Catuli, he knew he had met his life partner.  Medgar is completely obsessed with her to the point where she would have filed for a restraining order if she were capable.  Medgar would never take his eyes of her.  As soon as Catuli entered a room, Medgar was right behind with his nose in her butt.  If he ever lost sight of Catuli when she scampered under a couch, he would whine uncontrollably until she reappeared. 

At first 7 pound Catuli didn’t take well to having a 54 pound pitbull as her shadow, as evidenced by the ever present scratch marks on Medgar’s snout for the first months I had him. Now though, Catuli walks around proud with Medgar behind her, knowing she holds some sort of spell over him.  All the “Leave Its” in the world can’t distract Medgar from her.  We’re convinced that Catuli is some sort of deity that Medgar feels called to follow.  We’re also convinced that Medgar is part pitbull-weimaraner-feline, based on the way he slinks around sneakily like his idol Catuli.

Medgar’s other comfort is my girlfriend Kirsten’s dog Blue.  Kirsten adopted 3 month old Blue about a month before I got Medgar.  The two have become inseparable and can often be found cuddling in bed.  Blue is directly responsible for giving Medgar the confidence to walk outside for the very first time.  To this day, Medgar will put up a fight to go outside unless Blue, Kirsten, and I are all walking out the door with him.

Using your Cat to Walk your Dog

We tried over the counter calming medications in the form of liquid drops and pills.  We tried the Thundershirt.  We tried prescription Prozac.  Name an anti-anxiety treatment for dogs- we tried it and it didn’t work.  The poor guy is so fearful that when he would accidentally knock his tags against his metal bowl to make a loud clink, he would refuse to eat from his bowl, or any bowl for that matter for the next several days.  He would only eat his meals from my hands.

I tried many out of the box tactics to entice Medgar to walk.  Given his affinity for Catuli as described above, I decided to use her as motivation to walk.  With Medgar in one hand and Catuli in her carrying case in the other hand, I thought I had found the perfect solution.  I didn’t care how crazy it looked to take my cat with me every time I had to walk my dog, Medgar needed the exercise and I lived yardless in the city.  Walking on leash was the only way Medgar could get his exercise.  Dog in one hand, cat in the other, we embarked on what I thought would be Medgar’s first walk.  One step down, two steps down, and that was it.  He completely pancaked and started shaking uncontrollably.  His goddess Catuli couldn’t even conjure up in him the courage to walk.

I’ve learned not to take for granted things humans normally do with their canine companions.  Like, for example, walking them on a leash and then walking to the nearest garbage to throw away their waste.  After doing his business, Medgar refused to walk anywhere away from home, including to the garbage can.  Which meant I had to take him outside, pick up his poo, take Medgar back inside, and then go back outside to throw away the bag.  This was just another exercise in patience Medgar had decided to impose on his terribly impatient human.

Eventually, we got Medgar to walk the ¼ block to the nearest garbage can.  As soon as he heard the garbage can lid close, he would attempt to bolt home.  So I figured we could try another unorthodox game to get him to walk.  Before I took Medgar out, I walked to the garbage can and moved it a foot further. I went back to get Medgar, and we started walking.  He stopped exactly where the garbage can originally sat, right down to the sidewalk crack, refusing to move the extra foot.

He Walks!

I vividly remember the first day that Medgar walked on a leash outside.  It was a snowy February afternoon and Kirsten, Blue and I needed to walk to the local pet store in Wrigleyville.  It had been 4 months since I adopted Medgar, and we decided that today we weren’t going to give him a choice: he was going to walk with us.  I did the normal routine- coaxed him down the stairs to the spot outside the door to do his business.  Soon after finishing, he attempted to bolt for the door like usual.  I held my ground, not allowing him to move an inch, and he started shaking uncontrollably like normal.

I tried baiting him to walk with us, but as he’d done for the past 4 months, he refused to move even an inch.  At this point, we would usually wait him out for 10 minutes, and then eventually head inside feeling defeated, as he would still refuse to walk any distance from the apartment.  Today was different.  Kirsten had had enough.  She took the leash from me, barked a stern “Let’s go!”, tugged his martingale, and we were off.  Medgar was walking for the first time ever.  And I had nothing to do with it.  Of course he would walk for the first time without me holding the leash.  We went about 2 miles that day.  When we got home, we were certain that we had cured Medgar.

Seriously

As soon as Medgar began to walk, he developed severe leash reactivity towards dogs and select humans.  This reactivity was especially frustrating, since he never presented any signs of it during his time with One Tail and during the first couple months that he lived with me.  In fact, One Tail had brought them along to all their adoption events, because although he was very shy, he was definitely dog and people friendly. 

Now, Medgar would lunge and bark fiercely at the very same dogs (and humans) that he would barely even care to look at as he sat shaking on my porch during the stage where he refused to walk.  Medgar now had enough confidence to walk, but he was still so intensely petrified of the world that his anxiety manifested itself as leash reactivity. 

We scheduled countless home visits with trainer Emily Stoddard and enrolled Medgar in her 6-week leash reactivity class, which equipped us with many tools to manage Medgar’s reactivity.  Leaving my Cubbie blue passion behind for the sake of another love, we moved to Woodlawn to provide a better training environment for Medgar, away from the dog and human density of Wrigleyville.  As would become the general rule of thumb for Medgar’s behavior, improvements came slowly, step-by-step. 

Medgar Meets Sociabulls

The first walk we went on was a complete nightmare.  I practically had to tackle Medgar the entire walk he was so worked up and reactive.  He barked fiercely and lunged at other dogs and people. Due to Medgar’s multiple moods and personalities, the 2^nd walk was the complete opposite- I had to carry him in my arms most of the way when he refused to walk.  The walks were physically and mentally draining.  I kept coming back because everyone in the group was incredibly supportive and provided a space for Medgar to feel comfortable while working through his issues.

One experience in particular demonstrates the incredible positivity and good vibes of Sociabulls that eventually made their way into Medgar’s brain waves.  We were at the back of the pack and Medgar, as usual, began shaking uncontrollably in fear and stopped walking completely about 5 minutes into the walk.  I did not have the mental or physical energy to continue on with him that day, so we decided to call it quits and come back next week.  I was sitting next to Medgar on the grass as he worked through one of his episodes, when a few minutes letter E and Mr. B came trotting back. 

Mr. B tried attempted to get Medgar to notice him, when finally Medgar let out a reactive bark.  A few minutes later Medgar and Mr. B were walking side-by-side on their way to catching up with the group.  We caught the group during a water break, and as they saw us approaching they began to cheer and clap for Medgar.  Or at least I imagined that they did- handling Medgar on those first few walks were just a blur.  But I’m pretty sure it happened.  We should have plenty of witnesses.  After that standing ovation, I knew Medgar and I had found a permanent home. 

A Leash Reactive Pitbull Ambassador

After having Medgar for about a year, it was clear Medgar would not be the perfect pitbull amabassador I had imagined in Tulip.  He’s not kid, people, or dog friendly.  While we do everything we can to minimize his reactions, we can’t prevent them all.  Whenever he as a terrible reaction in public, my heart sinks, knowing that he’s living up to the negative pitbull stereotypes held by onlookers.

As a pitbull type dog owner, I feel extra pressure for Medgar and I to be perfect, so as to not reinforce the negative image of pitbulls painted by the mainstream media. A Halti head collar offers the best control for a dog that is leash reactive.  I avoided using one for the longest time with Medgar, because if you aren’t a dog trainer or your dog doesn’t use a head collar, you probably think it’s a muzzle, especially if you see it on a pitbull.  I’ve seen other breeds use the headcollar, but on Medgar’s walks I constantly have people asking me why he’s muzzled.  The Halti is not a muzzle at all and doesn’t serve the same function.  The Halti is a training tool to stop your dog from pulling and to quickly distract him and pull his gaze towards you if he locks in on another dog, squirrel, person, etc.  I often want to tell annoying people who ask why he’s muzzled, “It’s actually not a muzzle at all, he can take a good chunk out of you if he wanted.”  But we’re good breed ambassadors, so I just say it in my head.

Eventually, I decided that addressing Medgar’s behavioral issues were more important than maintaining his public image.  Like many other breeds, Medgar is leash reactive.  And like many other owners of reactive dogs, I need to do what’s best to address his issues, even if wearing a headcollar means he might be reinforcing stereotypes in the minds of passerbyers.  Pitbulls aren’t inherently leash reactive in the same way that tiny white lap dogs aren’t leash reactive.  Although, based on participatory observation research on the streets of Chicago, I’d say leash reactive small breeds vastly outnumber leash reactive larger breeds.

The bottom line is Medgar is not perfect, pitbulls are not perfect.  But people forget that pitbulls are dogs too, after all, and dogs aren’t perfect either.  There are poodles that are not kid friendly- my sister has an old scar on her cheek to prove it.  There are labs, vizlas, and collies that are leash reactive- Medgar has sparred with them all. There are beagles, pugs, and retrievers that are not people friendly- I’ve seen their stories on Animal Planet.  All different types of dogs have all different types of issues, Medgar just happens to be a pitbull. 

While Medgar might not be a good pitbull ambassador in the traditional sense of the word, there is no doubt he’s done a lot for his breed.  As is well documented above, when Medgar refuses to walk, I have to carry him like a baby.  There have literally been hundreds of people on the streets of Chicago that have witnessed me carrying a terrified, shaking pitbull.  That surely shatters the stereotype of pitbulls being dog and people aggressive.  While carrying Medgar, I’ve had this exact conversation with pedestrians more than I can count:

“Is that a pitbull?”

“Yes, he sure is!”

“Why is he shaking and why are you caring him?”

“He’s scared and doesn’t like to walk.”

“What??!?!?! Pitbulls aren’t suppose to be scared!”

I then proceed to share a bit of Medgar’s story.   

Inside the house, Medgar is a perfectly fine ambassador.  After spending an entire labor day weekend as a guest in our apartment and effectively serving as Medgar's Tootsie Pop (we had a lick count but eventually lost track) my friend remarked as she wiped one last smooch from her skin, "I'm glad my first experience with a pitbull was with Medgar."

I grew up with a dog.  His name was Sparky, a 15 pound apricot toy poodle that my parents purchased from a local breeder.  I was fortunate to have many animals growing up, from Sparky to cats, guinea pigs, turtles, hamsters, and fish.  My parents were animal lovers, but they weren't the rescue animal type.  And they most definitely weren't the pitbull type.  When I was fostering Medgar, I checked with my parents to see if they would be willing to watch him if I was out of town for short periods of time.  "A pitbull?!?! I'm not letting a pitbull in my house.  What if your father isn't home? I can't be alone with that thing?" 

I adopted Medgar anyway, knowing his good lucks would win my parents over.  This past summer was the summer of weddings for Kirsten and I.  We were out of town for 4 weekends.  During those four weekends, my parents flooded my inbox with pictures of Medgar and the following captions.  "Look, I made Meddy scrambled eggs for breakfast." What about the carefully measured portions of dog food I gave you mom?  Now I'll be picking up soft serve the next 3 days.  "Look, Meddy is on the couch cuddling with your father."  You don't even let your cats on the couch, mom!  "Look, Meddy has another feline friend besides Catuli."  My parents are counting down the days until our trip to Peru, when they'll have Medgar for a full 2 weeks.  I love the random call or text from my parents saying, "You know if you ever need a break you can bring Medgar over to stay the night."

When you add it all up, Medgar's done a hell of a lot more good than bad for pitbulls, proving that even a human and dog unfriendly pitbull can be a great ambassador for the breed.

Happy Tail

Medgar has a white tip of fur at the end of his tail.  One day after coming home from work, I let him out of his room and he bounded down the hallway as he normally does, whipping his tail around and sniffing to find a clue to answer his eternal, burning question: where have you been all day?

As I bent down to pet him and receive his breathtaking smooches, I noticed that the entire tip of his tail, normally white, was completely soaked in blood.  I called his vet and took him in a few hours later.  His vet, who knows Medgar pretty well, examined his tail and chuckled.  He explained to me that Medgar had a case of Happy Tail.  When dogs get so overly excited and happy, they wag their tail with so much torque that when it hits something (a wall, dresser, etc), it sometimes splits open.  Medgar had to have surgery the next day to remove a small growth from the tip of his tail that kept splitting open.  He wore a heavily padded bandage on the length of his tail for about 2 weeks that made him look like a stegosaurus. 

You could tell Medgar viewed his tail bandage as a dunce cap or scarlet letter of sorts.  I, on the other hand, couldn’t be prouder.  Medgar had happy tail.  I adopted Medgar in November 2011.  The first time wagged his tail was May 2012.  He was so petrified of the world around him it took him over half a year to finally wag his tail. I even have a picture of when it happened for the first time outside!

When I returned from the vet after Medgar’s diagnosis of Happy Tail, I noticed that blood was spattered on the wall throughout our entire hallway, and on every bedroom and bathroom door. The blood pattern was located exactly at the height of Medgar’s tail.  I grabbed a rag and some soap.  I don’t think anyone on this planet has ever been happier to scrub blood spatters off their walls.

“Now you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I could run like the wind blows.  From that day on if I was going somewhere, I was running!”

Medgar was finally walking.  Now it was time for him to run.  While Medgar would now walk outside away from home, he still refused to run with us away from home (even if it was the same route we took walking.) So we started running in his safety bubble, which we determined to be the 4 sidewalk squares outside our apartment where he would walk before beginning to shake uncontrollably.  We would run back and forth, 10 ft at a time, sidewalk square to sidewalk square.  People looked at us like we were crazy, but Medgar was running!

This past week, for the first time since I adopted him 1 year ago, Medgar and I went for a walk or run for a week straight, seven days in a row, all by ourselves.  Medgar loves to run and walk by the lake- the water is calming to him, especially early in the morning.  In fact, he loves the water so much, that he has to be as close to it as possible without actually touching it.  Rather than run on the smooth lake front path, he pulls me toward the rocky shoreline, where I’m sure one day I’ll sprain my ankle.  But it makes Medgar happy, so I’m happy too.

After we finish a run together, I look down at him and think about how we got here.  We got here going step-by-step.  It some times took us 30 minutes to get down 32 STEPS at an apartment in Wrigleyville. Now, in that very same 30 minutes, we can run 4 miles along Lake Michigan on the South Side of Chicago.  And we get to actually cover some ground on our runs, as opposed to running back and forth on 10 feet of sidewalk.  Thank you to everyone that has played a part in a journey that really is just beginning.  Your Canine Good Citizenship is up next, right Medgar?

Credits

There are so many people to thank that have helped Medgar along the way.  First, thanks to One Tail at a Time for rescuing a petrified pitbull puppy from a local animal shelter.  Medgar wouldn’t be a part of my life if it weren’t for you all.  Thanks to Emily Stoddard from My Canine Sports for all the hard work you’ve done with Medgar.  I think we eventually figured him out! Maybe?  Thanks to Blue for being Medgar’s cuddle buddy, playmate, and the only canine friend he is allowed to touch.  Thank to Catuli, our cat, for being Medgar’s entertainment and eye candy in the house.  Lastly, thank you to the entire Sociabulls family.  Medgar would not have been able to walk outside if it weren’t for you all.

Mostly importantly, thank you to my girlfriend Kirsten for being by my (and Medgar’s) side throughout the entire way.  You’ve gone through countless hours of training with Medgar, had many the unpleasant experience of reaching into your coat pocket to find 2 week old, rotting hot dog and cheese pieces, and have had to watch Medgar learn his bite inhibition by “practicing” with your dog Blue.  You also agreed to break your lease and move to the South Side so that Medgar could live in a quieter environment.  You’ve been the most supportive partner I could ask for in dealing with the most frustrating and stress inducing dog on the planet (even though we both know he’s worth it!)

 Medgar didn’t get his perfect owner in me, and I didn’t get my ideal dog in Medgar. Since he’s part feline, he’d prefer a human that sat on the couch all day and stroked his head gently.  He’d prefer never to have to step outside the four walls of his home, but since he must, he’d prefer a quiet place in the country, where he had a fence and didn’t have to ever be introduced to a leash.  He’d prefer an animal sanctuary, where every day is the same.

Instead Medgar got an owner who is as equally stubborn as him, and who’s an avid runner that lives in one of the most densely populated cities in the country.  He got loud noises, thousands of enemy dogs, hissing CTA buses, rattling CTA trains, no fenced in green spaces, and a choir of heavy machinery in Chicago’s never ending construction season. 

Medgar’s a far cry from Tulip the pitbull that I had always dreamed of as my companion.  And as I’m sure Medgar would tell you as I wake him from bed every morning to strap on his leash for a walk or run, I’m not exactly his ideal human. Despite our differences and thanks to an incredible web of support that surrounds us, I think you’d be hard pressed to find a better team.  Thanks, Meddy boy, for not being Tulip.