A recent essay in the New York Times by Erica-Lynn Huberty called "The Wrong Dog" raises many difficult questions that often arise when a well-meaning family takes in a "difficult" dog. Psychology Today writer and dog expert, Mark Derr, posted an excellent essay about the Times piece, and at the end he quoted me about the problems associated with playing "musical dogs." I agree with Mr. Derr's take on the Times essay, namely, "Huberty blames the dog, the woman who gave her the dog, the trainer-everyone but herself and her husband-and Nina [the dog] herself for her failure to fit seamlessly into Huberty's home. From this experience, she draws the conclusion that some dogs are just unsuitable for living with humans. That might be the case but there is no proof of it here."
Playing "musical dogs" is frequently bad for the dog Here I just want to say a bit more about the perils of playing "musical dogs" -- rescuing a dog, giving him or her up, and then having yet another person or family rescue the dog later on. Of course, there can be various uknowns associated with re-homing a dog that don't arise until the dog attempts to asjust to new people, their home, and their novel and unique daily rhythms and habits. And, of course, re-homing can also be tricky when there's another nonhuman already living in the home in which the new dog is a virtual stranger.
After reading Ms. Huberty's essay I wondered a few things, most importantly,why didn't she and her family simply keep the dog, Nina, away from the cat, Addie, whom she harassed and eventually killed. Nina already had given warning signs that she was uncomfortable, unhappy, and likely unpredictable, by snapping and growling at the humans and at Addie. Indeed, Ms. Hurley writes about what happened when Nina was brought to her home after they had had previous amicable interactions in an environment with which Nina was familiar: "But things became complicated when we brought Nina home. She panicked in her new environment, tearing up the stairs to our bedroom. Like an alpha-male guard dog, she leaped onto the middle of the bed and growled with bared teeth. Clearly, she was terrified." Ms. Huberty also knew that Nina was shy and "intensely fearful of loud noises."
Yes, Nina was clearly terrified and also most likely suffering from deep anxiety and fear, and this is not uncommon when a dog enters a new home. Cashing out Nina's behavior as behaving like "an alpha-male guard dog" perhaps gives a hint as to how Nina was to be viewed from that moment on, with any purportedly "aggressive" behavior becoming a major strike against her. Nina may just as likely have been severely traumatized and simply asking for some space because she "was scared out of her mind." She may have bolted up the stairs because they were there and simply needed time to morph into a new home. It's well known that it often takes time for many re-homed dogs to get accustomed to their new environs (as it does for some people). We also know that when animals are moved around from zoo to zoo, they often suffer from various sorts of trauma until they get accustomed to their new home.
Dogs, other animals, and people display different responses to new situations, and the personality of each individual has to be factored into understanding how or whether they will adjust to new physical and social environs and how long it may take. How Nina's shyness and intense fear of loud noises factored into her being difficult to re-home remains unknown, but surely could have been factors in her difficult times and her being given up by her new family.
Toward the end of her essay Ms. Huberty writes, "I felt enraged at the rescue woman, foster mother and trainer. Two family members had been taken from us in one horrifying act, one that would never have happened had we not kept Nina. But we had kept her. We took pity on her, and let ourselves believe that beneath her quirky, strange behavior resided a good dog. A friend who fosters animals for a local shelter, who has dogs and cats of her own, said to me, 'Some dogs are just too damaged, or not right to begin with, and they're just not adoptable.'"
Was Nina "too damaged" or "not right to begin with?" We really don't know. Is Nina still adoptable? Sadly, we may never know. Of course, Ms. Huberty felt guilt and sadness when Nina was sent packing, and recognizes that Nina has little chance for being adopted again.
Playing "musical dogs" can indeed be perilous Living with a dog is a two-way street and assigning unilateral blame gets us nowhere, and once again leaves the dog out in the cold. Playing "musical dogs" can be very bad for the dogs, as much research and common sense tell us. I wish Nina the best of luck as she might be facing an uphill battle to find a suitable and permanent home in the future.
So, yes, perhaps Nina was "the wrong dog" for this particular family who generously tried to give her a new home. But, it's also possible she was trying as hard as she could to fit into their physical and social milieu, and was begging of them in the only ways she could, "Please give me more time, I'm really trying as hard as I can." Or, perhaps, Nina recognized there was a misfit and was feeling something like, "Oops, this is the wrong family for me" and wanted out. Ms. Huberty's essay raises many questions that demand serious attention. I hope it is widely read.
Note: Nina's story kept me awake much of the night. I lit a candle for her and wondered, did she attack Addie because a loud noise startled her? Or, did she simply need space but Addie wanted to be her friend and didn't understand Nina's needs? Nina is a perfect candidate for being a "yellow dog," an individual who needs space. Please visit The Yellow Dog Project website and Facebook page for more information. I remain unconvinced that Nina is unadoptable and I continue to worry about her and wish her well.
