The Stand-Off Ends

Foster #29, Buster, made quite a first impression. He was surrendered, along with his mom and dad, to our rescue yesterday. A woman who, to put it politely, seemed to be a little "off," left him and his dad with one of our new fosters and left the female with another. The new foster then brought him to me.

During our phone conversation, the new foster told me that he took a while to get out of the car and introduce himself to her, but other than that he seemed fine. Uh...so I figured, he sounds okay, I guess I don't need to bring a crate when I meet her to get him. I had Bill, my mom, and my husband in the car with me.

When the new foster pulled in, she opened the car door, and I saw a snarling, chattering, barking, growling Boston Terrier looking back at me. He didn't yet have a harness or collar on, so I asked her if she could put it on him. I really didn't think she could. He allowed her to, however, without ever taking his eyes off me. Boy, was I in for an adventure!

The new foster put my leash on him, and I was able to walk him over to the car. I put him in the car, and he seemed okay with Bill - not really noticing him. However, now I had a new problem. I couldn't go near my car!

Luckily a nearby friend had a crate, and I had some thick garden gloves, so I put the gloves on, carefully got his leash, and pulled him out of the car. We sat on the ground for a while, and I tried to calm him, to no avail. I kept inching my way up the leash until I was at the back of his harness, and while he continued to growl, I got my hand around his chest and quickly shoved him into the crate. Door shut...success!

He growled and cried the whole way home. I had never seen such a distressed dog! At home, Dylan and I weren't really sure what to do with him, but eventually we decided to try to let him sleep in the crate in our room. After hours of listening to him rustle around, I finally couldn't take it anymore, and I put him in the yard. I left the crate door open so he could pee if he had to, but every time I checked on him, he was still cowering in there. He looked SO scared.

This morning, when I got up to let Bill out to pee, Buster was standing outside of his crate, shaking uncontrollably. I got some cheese, sat down, and somehow got brave enough to try and pet him. He just melted into my hands, and at that point, I knew our stand-off was over. Since then he hasn't left my side, although he's still very nervous and distressed.

I actually think he's a great dog now - he even licked me, and now he's sleeping with his head on my leg. Poor little guy, I have no idea what happened to him to make him so distressed, but I think there's hope. Oh, and he's adorable!