Please read the Adventures of Lexie & Chris – Part 1 first.

Six weeks have passed since I wrote the original article about Lexie. In that brief time, she has continued to make progress, and her friendship with Lenny the cat has deepened into true companionship.

Several weeks ago, Gigi and I took Lexie and Lenny to the veterinarian for a checkup.  Lexie put up with the poking and prodding from Dr. Shepherd with little argument, but her feelings for Lenny became very clear when Lenny had his turn.  Lenny began yowling in anger at Dr. Shepherd, and that really upset Lexie.  I couldn’t help but smile inwardly when Dr. Shepherd suggested that I remove Lexie from the room while he examined Lenny.  I couldn’t blame him; if Lexie had been looking at me like that, I too would have considered my next actions rather carefully.

Dr. Shepherd did tell us something that provided me with great relief.  I asked him to look at Lexie’s teeth, and he stated that he believed that her teeth were not damaged by human hand, but were the result of natural causes.  In my original article, I had suggested that Lexie’s teeth had been sawed off or filed down by a human being, leading me to speculate that Lexie may have once been a bait dog in a dog-fighting operation.  I am delighted to report that Dr. Shepherd didn’t think so, and I’ve never been so happy to be wrong in my entire life.

On Sunday, November 1st, a small group of volunteers gathered to build an enclosed run on the back of the Learning Center for Lexie and Lenny.  I am immensely grateful to everyone involved for spending their afternoon to make Lexie’s small world at OPP a little bigger and better.  At the end of the day, Lexie had her own small outdoor area where she could safely prance about off-leash.  Not only did it benefit her and Lenny, but also the volunteer care-givers, who don’t have to put her on leash several times each day so she can pee and poo.  Now, they can simply open the back door, and let her outside under supervision – just like the other dogs at OPP.

Soon, Lexie will no longer be confined to her crate in the Learning Center.  On certain evenings, we are already leaving her loose in the Learning Center overnight with Lenny under very specific controlled circumstances.  I have no worries about Lenny’s safety; Lexie adores him.  But we need to make sure that all volunteer care-givers are comfortable dealing with an unrestrained Lexie – especially when entering or leaving the Learning Center.

I take Lexie for walks and runs several times each week – sometimes from OPP, but usually off-site.  The many trails within Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park are our favorite outdoor destination, and Lexie has become a first class trail dog and an excellent fitness partner.  Every once in a while, she’ll block my path to stop me in my tracks, and gaze unwaveringly into my eyes.  This is her demand that I kneel down, and rain kisses on her head and nose.  She soaks up the quick loving, and we’re off again.  We’ll often arrive at the summit of Kennesaw Mountain on a sunny weekend afternoon, where numerous visitors are resting and enjoying the view, and Lexie will invariably attract a crowd of admirers – adults and children alike.  It is not uncommon for me to spend an hour telling folks about Lexie and Our Pal’s Place while they fret and coo over her.  She is an accomplished ambassador for OPP.

I now deliberately give Lexie on-leash opportunities to interact with other dogs from several feet away, and on some days we’ll have 1-2 dozen encounters.  Many go well, but some devolve into snarling and lunging.  The volume and frequency of the encounters have given me insight into Lexie’s behavioral motivators and triggers.  I am constantly reminded that dog aggression expert Brenda Aloff, who wrote the definitive book on the subject Aggression In Dogs, teaches us that “canine aggression is about space invasion”.  Fundamentally, Lexie is rude with other dogs rather than aggressive.  She invades their personal space out of intense curiosity without understanding the social consequences, and doesn’t know to use the calming and negotiating signals that well-socialized dogs naturally learn growing up.  With Lexie starting each encounter rudely, the nature of each interaction depends on the other dog’s reaction.  If the other dog puts up with it (even though it shouldn’t have to), then all is well.  If the other dog responds with understandable defensiveness, then Lexie’s “aggression trigger” is activated, and the encounter devolves into snarling and lunging (but no physical contact).

Ultimately, the only way for Lexie to improve is to continue having interactions with other dogs, and to accomplish this I am actively studying and specializing in positive training techniques for aggressive dogs.  The intense trust and understanding that Lexie and I have developed (as described in my original article) enables me to influence her in ways that would be unsafe for any other person, but which are helpful in converting active aggression into acceptable behavior using positive training techniques.  As our trust grew strong, I used specialized knowledge I’ve acquired in dog-aggressive positive training techniques to gradually and deliberately get Lexie used to having me touch her body during aggression events in order to alter her behavior to accommodate my touch without mindless biting.  Lexie now knows and expects that every single dog encounter actively involves at least three participants – herself, the other dog several feet away, and me touching her.  I can’t stress enough the danger of this training approach without proper instruction and worlds of mutual trust between you and the dog, and I point out that this is not something I can do with any other dog.  Having trained Lexie to physically accommodate me during aggression events, I can now safely use the “pressure” of my body as a positive tool when I’m attempting to influence Lexie to convert her aggression into an acceptable behavior.  It has proven very effective at redirecting her attention away from mindless lunging and back to me with conscious focus. I am helping Lexie revert from fight-flight behaviors driven by the Hind Brain (the Medulla Oblongata in the base of the brain stem) back to the Front Brain (higher order thinking in the Cerebral Cortex), and I have taken great care to maintain a perfect safety record.

On the whole, Lexie’s behavior is clearly and steadily improving.  Recently, Sandy Adcock (OPP’s K9 Coach Manager & professional trainer) and I decided to introduce Lexie and Peri – one of my own four dogs.  Together, along with several OPP volunteers, we took Lexie and Peri for a walk.  They padded along eyeing one another curiously while we kept them several feet apart, but neither made an aggressive gesture towards the other.

About a week later, OPP volunteer Mark Chafin was telling me that he and Sandy had taken his dog Bruiser for a short walk with Lexie some months back, and that it had gone well.  We decided to take Bruiser and Lexie for a walk at Cheatham Hill.  It was an amazing sight.  Big easy-going Bruiser loped along for 2 miles with Lexie prancing playfully around him (both on leash).  At that moment, it was easy to believe that Lexie would soon evolve beyond her dog-aggressive behaviors.

On Saturday, November 21st, Lexie will take another step forward by attending Sandy’s K9 Coaching class with other OPP dogs.  My primary objective will be to work with her on her dog-to-dog social skills.

Lexie responds particularly well to clicker training, which elicits, marks, and reinforces desirable behaviors.  In her book Reaching the Animal Mind, Karen Pryor describes some unconventional applications for clicker training, and that got me thinking one evening after a walk.  Lexie is scared of certain types of physical contact, one of which was having her hind paws held.  This was causing me problems when we walked trails after it had rained, because Lexie wouldn’t let me clean the mud from her hind paws before putting her in my car.  One evening, I used a clicker, some treats, and a towel to train her to accept a thorough hind paw cleaning using a towel without freaking out.  It was funny, because in the span of 15 minutes, she went from panic when I grabbed her hind paw, to offering it to me herself while maintaining relaxed leg muscles.  She is one super smart dog.

One of the most important experiences Lexie can have are regular home visits, so that she can learn what family life is all about.  Since my family already has four dogs at home – Satori, Yonah, Peri, and Marcus, my house isn’t the best option.  My parents – Gale & Whit Benson – no longer have any pets due to lifestyle constraints, but they have graciously allowed me to bring Lexie to their home on a very regular basis.  About once a week, I take her over there after a walk or run at Kennesaw Mountain, since they live very close to the park.  At first, I was a little concerned that Lexie might physically overwhelm my parents, or even accidentally injury them as she flings her muscular self around, but Lexie somehow senses that limits are necessary, and she doesn’t leap on them the way she does with volunteers at OPP.  She is gentle with them.  My mother positively dotes on Lexie, and Lexie in turn adores my mother.  They allow Lexie to roam freely inside – exploring, getting into stuff, and generally making herself at home.  Over time, it has become clear that Lexie has decided that their house is her house, and after finally tiring of sniffing exploration, Lexie will come into the family room where we’re sitting, and curl up for a nap at our feet.  Occasionally, I have the pleasure of the most adorable sight – my 5 year old niece Lilly leading a very willing Lexie around the house by the leash.  I don’t know if Lexie has ever before spent time at home with a family, but she’s clearly a family dog now.  For an hour or two at a time, she seems to forget her life in rescue, and relaxes in her “home” until its time to leave once more.

Lexie is becoming a very adoptable dog.  She is already a well-adjusted family dog.  She loves people of all ages, cats, car rides, long walks, loping runs, and wading in creeks.  Her dog-aggressive behavior is receding, often absent, and very manageable.  She is super smart, and delightfully full of personality.  Lexie needs someone with a big heart, lots of energy, and a bit of patience.  I would love to adopt her, but with four other dogs, it’s not presently possible and may never be.  Despite that, some things never change… I love Lexie.

Please read the Adventures of Lexie & Chris – Part 3.

On the morning of Saturday, June 27, 2009, I sat in volunteer orientation for Our Pal’s Place (OPP).  At the time, I had no idea that it was a life-changing moment for me.  Recently, I had been looking for an animal shelter or rescue where I could invest myself, and make a meaningful difference.  I had stumbled across Our Pal’s Place almost by accident – a recommendation from a friend who knew OPP volunteer Brad Barnett.  I was silently challenging the energized Executive Director Gigi Graves to sell me on Our Pal’s Place – show me why I should invest here.  As the orientation progressed, she did exactly that.

I learned about OPP’s many programs – care-giving shifts, adoptions, Camp OPP, special events… and K9 coaching.  Gigi pointed at the empty crate in the Learning Center, and told us about Lexie – an extremely intelligent, immensely powerful, and passionately people-loving American Terrier mix who is animal-aggressive. Lexie is super-wonderful with people – both adults and children; not so much with animals.

Lexie had come from Murray County in extreme northern Georgia, where she had been picked up as a stray with another dog named Conner – Lexie’s only other known dog friend.  Our Pal’s Place had rescued both dogs, and Conner was eventually adopted out to a great family, who have subsequently held fund-raisers for Our Pal’s Place.  After Conner was adopted, Lexie began having a very tough time in her run, and would get so agitated that she’d literally bounce off the sides and hang from the roof – no exaggeration.  Her aggression towards other dogs got steadily worse, resulting in several dog-on-dog altercations.  At one point, she bit a volunteer named Celia, whom I believe inappropriately managed an aggression incident.  I will comment on that later in this article.  Finally, to separate her from the other dogs, Lexie was relocated from her run in the main building’s kennel to a large dog crate in the Learning Center. Today, Lexie has been at Our Pal’s Place longer than any other dog currently there, separated from the rest of the kennel, with special safety rules in place that govern her interactions with the rest of the world. While she is adored and well cared for by the volunteers, she leads a very lonely life, desperate for love and meaningful companionship, and enough room to move about according to her needs.  This was Lexie’s situation when I arrived at Our Pal’s Place this past summer, and her story touched my heart in a very intense way.

After fully buying into Gigi’s inspiring but pragmatic orientation pitch (attend and you’ll see why), I made the choice to commit my time and my wallet, and began exploring the various ways I could contribute.  Soon thereafter, I completed my training in care-giving, and committed to a weekly tuck-in shift.  I began functioning as a “greeter” on adoption days every couple of weeks, participating in off-site events, and eventually adopted a delightful OPP dog named Marcus, who joined our other three dogs at home.

Early on, I decided to see what I could accomplish with Lexie.  I started by taking her for a walk one evening at OPP with veteran volunteer Mark Chafin.  That first walk was eye-opening in another, more shocking way.  Mark gently opened Lexie’s mouth and pointed to the fact that her long canine teeth were reduced to stubs.  Although I don’t know this to be fact, it appeared to both of us that they had been sawed off or filed down by a human being, leading us to speculate that Lexie may have once been a bait dog in a dog-fighting operation.  We postulated that such an awful experience might account for her aggression towards other dogs, although it needs to be reiterated that this is speculation rather than fact, but one which would explain a lot.  Whether my speculation is right or wrong, I have since operated on the premise that Lexie was previously the victim of a Bad Person, and I am determined to be the Good Person who lovingly assists her to a full recovery as a sociable, family dog.

I dived into “Mission Lexie” and soon received permission from Gigi and Head Trainer Sandy Adcock to take Lexie off-site to Kennesaw Mountain.  Sandy had prepared me well with specialized K9 Coach instruction, especially on how to manage potentially dangerous encounters between Lexie and other dogs. I attentively absorbed everything she taught me, determined to prove to Sandy and Gigi that I could properly handle Lexie under conditions that were not strictly-controlled.  In addition to the great hands-on training that Sandy provided me, she had recommended a number of books on dog training and behaviorism.  An avid reader, I read them all – Patricia McConnell, Karen Pryor, Pat Miller, Brenda Aloff, Paul Owens, and Turid Rugaas.  They covered positive dog training, human-dog communication, the sciences of dog behaviorism and ethology, and dog aggression in great detail – a topic that I’m specializing in to help Lexie.  I learned a lot!

We started down the path at Kennesaw Mountain, and within 200 yards had our first dog/owner encounter.  From a short distance away, I called out to the man, stating that I had an aggressive dog, and asking him to hold tightly onto his own dog. Then following Sandy’s advice, I literally ran Lexie by the other dog, reducing her ability to attack, though she tried her best – snarling and lunging.  During that first outing, we had three more dog encounters, all challenging to contend with but manageable.

The second time out a few days later, we got back to my car after finishing our walk.  Seeing a woman approaching with 3 dogs on leash, I hustled Lexie into my car in an attempt to avoid the situation altogether.  Lexie had other ideas though.  As I entered my car, trying to body block Lexie inside, she lunged hard and squeezed past my legs – free and in attack mode.  As I felt her force her way past the back of my thighs, I turned and dropped on top of her, laying prone on the asphalt with a tight grip on her collar, pinning her from above and behind as she struggled in vain to reach the other dogs.  Despite the difficult situation, I noticed that Lexie never directed an ounce of aggression towards me, even while she was in attack mode.  She knew it was me on top of her, and that I was not attacking her.  Neither of us were threatened by the other.  It was the beginning of a kernel of trust that would build in the weeks to come.

From that point on, I began taking Lexie off-site 3-4 times per week to a variety of locations, including regular off-leash home visits to my parents’ house (since they don’t have any pets), car rides, walks, and trail runs.  I discovered that she loves to splash around in creeks, considers my car to be her second home, and is terrified of fireworks and the Lassiter High School Marching Band.  We continued to have many animal encounters – mostly dogs and deer, and I quickly became accustomed to dealing with them using a variety of techniques.  I noticed that they weren’t all bad; if fact, some were relatively mild, and a few were non-events altogether.  I began to realize that Lexie was not mindlessly-aggressive with other animals, but rather she had an unidentified discrimination process that could lead to a variety of outcomes.  Built into that process was the fact that she knew what to expect from me, and would often change her default behavior to accommodate my response.  Our mutual understanding, trust, and love for one another became as important as any situation we found ourselves in.

That bond was put to the test several times.  One time we began crossing an open field at Kennesaw Mountain, and without warning we noticed and locked eyes with a gigantic dog about 75 feet away.  Locking eyes was the worst thing we could have done.  To dogs, that’s a rude sign of aggression, and the huge dog charged us at full speed.  I started screaming, “No, no, no!” and dimly realized that there was a man standing where the big dog had launched himself.  For the first time ever, I saw Lexie go totally submissive towards another dog, and I knew that Lexie and I were about to be torn to bits.  Time slowed as the dog charged, and I distinctly remember thinking that I’d failed both Lexie and Gigi for trusting me.  As the charging dog came within 25 feet, I saw the owner get jerked like a rag doll as the nearly invisible 50 foot cable reached its length.  The giant snarling dog made it within 5 feet of us before the owner managed to stop it with a herculean effort.  Lexie and I turned together and ran like hell, both of our tails tucked between our legs.

Another time, Lexie and I encountered two horses with riders on a narrow trail with no room to maneuver.  Running by them was not an option.  I pulled Lexie as far to the side as possible in an attempt to compress ourselves into the smallest possible space, told her to sit and stay, and held her leash tightly.  I promised the worried riders that I had firm control of her.  With constant encouragement and tight leash, Lexie maintained her sit/stay as the horses approached.  I was cautiously impressed with her obedience, because a few weeks prior, her behavior wouldn’t have been so admirable.  Then at their closest point, less than 3 feet away, Lexie sensed the horses’ nervousness and finally lost it.  She lunged straight at the first horse, but I was ready for that and arrested the surge.  In a heartbeat, my brilliant and tricky Lexie reversed her momentum, nearly slipping her martingale collar.  Once again, time slowed down for me.  I knew I was a fraction of a second away from having Lexie free herself in the middle of an attack.  All the dog behavioral books I had read taught me that common primate behaviors like front-on grabbing and hugging were interpreted as an attack to a dog in this frenzied state, but I also knew that if I didn’t secure her instantly, the situation could get much worse.  Keeping my voice calm but commanding, I threw my arms around my attacking Lexie in a front-on bear hug, and trusted that she would honor our partnership.  She did honor that trust – completely, although she continued her aggression towards the horses in a frantic attempt to get around me.  Not an ounce of aggression towards me, though.  Snarling around me, over me, under me, past me, but not towards me.  I knew with trust like that, anything was possible between us, and I was exuberant.

Having described the long hours of building a loving and trusting relationship with Lexie, I want to take a moment to address Lexie’s biting incident with former OPP volunteer Celia Gilner.  The incident occurred before I joined Our Pal’s Place, and I’ve never spoken with Ms. Gilner, although I have repeatedly read the article she wrote for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution published June 27, 2008 entitled “Are no-kill shelters humane? Some dogs unadoptable, dangerous to volunteers”.  While I genuinely sympathize with Celia Gilner for the injuries she sustained, I disagree with her premises, which I believe were based on a failure in judgment to appropriately manage an aggressive dog.  Her conclusions implied that her own failure in judgment translates to other volunteers – a logical fallacy.  She apparently thought that “extra time outside petting her and playing ball” invested her with the ability to intervene inappropriately in a situation she was not prepared for, and she concludes that the solution to “the suffering of these three dogs confined in solitary cages for years” is to kill them.  The tone of Celia Gilner’s article smacks of injured pride and personal vendetta against the dogs she didn’t like, and against Our Pal’s Place for providing a loving home for these dogs after she was injured.  Her descriptions of Lexie are not consistent with the Lexie I have grown to know so well, even under the most extreme circumstances – dozens of aggression incidents properly managed without injury.

I will conclude with the most amazing story of all – the little Kitty.  Over the past few weeks, we have had several stray cats hanging around Our Pal’s Place.  One of these is a playful, imperturbable orange-colored kitten with no fear of Lexie, and who kept trying to slip into the Learning Center.  On the evening of Thursday, October 1st, I had returned to OPP from a run with Lexie and was letting her urinate on the front lawn.  The Kitty suddenly appeared and playfully charged Lexie in an attempt to entice Lexie to play.  Lexie attempted to playfully return the charge with a joyous bark, but I restrained her.  Then Kitty charged again… and again.  I was standing there conflicted between fear and amazement when OPP volunteer Chris Woods pulled up in his truck, and witnessed the behavior as well.  We picked our jaws off the ground, discussed the complete lack of aggression in Lexie, and allowed a leashed Lexie to do a nose-touch with Kitty.  I spent the rest of the evening allowing a leashed Lexie to interact with Kitty in the parking area, keeping Gigi informed every miraculous step of the way.  Lexie behaved very well, knowing that if she didn’t, she’d not be allowed to play with Kitty.  She kept looking to me for permission, and obeyed every command I gave her better than she ever had before.  The following evening, I returned to OPP for the explicit purpose of letting Lexie and Kitty spend time together, which they did for 6 hours.  About half of those were with Lexie off-leash in the Learning Center with Kitty.  Their interaction included lots of gentle physical contact, a bit of clawed boundary-setting by Kitty, some playful barks and bounds by Lexie, and affectionate nuzzles initiated by each at various times. At one point Kitty walked right up to Lexie and nuzzled Lexie’s face with his face.  It was stunning to watch.  Lexie and Kitty rapidly developed a genuine friendship under my very watchful eye, and an occasional intervening “reset”.  Wherever Lexie went, Kitty would follow, and vice versa.  On Saturday morning, OPP volunteer Colleen Strasburg gave the Kitty a new name – Lenny, and OPP manager Dee McGowan placed a litter box in the Learning Center, where Lenny is now living part-time.  All day Saturday, you could look up the hill at the Learning Center and see Lenny sitting on top of Lexie’s crate looking out the window.  That evening, with Lexie safely in her crate, I left Lenny overnight in the Learning Center.  Lexie finally has a non-human friend again, and I am so happy for her.

Lexie is improving rapidly and steadily.  She is fully-recoverable from the difficult days of the past.  Under Sandy’s expert guidance, I’m now getting Lexie used to other dogs again.  I started with one of my own four dogs.  Lexie and Perry recently had an uneventful walk together – trotting parallel several feet apart without contact or overt aggression, although Lexie was hyper-aware of the intensity of my watchful eye and stayed on her best behavior.  We’ll soon start introducing her to other carefully-chosen dogs at Our Pal’s Place under tightly controlled circumstances.  Some may work, most probably won’t, but we’ll make our progress in small steps.

Lexie will be adopted.  It may not be me, since I have four other dogs and a cat, but it will happen.  It is my mission to see her adopted, and I will work with Sandy and Gigi to do everything in my power to make it successful, though it will break my heart to give Lexie up to her new forever family.  I love her dearly, and until somebody else steps up to take over on a permanent basis, I will regard Lexie as my dog.  She needs somebody with limitless pools of love and patience, the maturity to establish and maintain the right environment for her, and the energy and fitness to accompany her as she romps the world with joy.  Lexie is a special dog – with special needs, and special rewards.

Becoming a volunteer with Our Pal’s Place 3 months ago was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.  I love Lexie.

Please read the Adventures of Lexie & Chris – Part 2.