dog attack – Kerry Claire and dogs

A couple of days ago, Milo, the sweet collie pup in my last blog, and Annie’s great friend, was attacked by a bulldog at the end of his own driveway. Milo was on leash with his dad, having just played with some neighborhood kids in the snow–it was his first experience with snow, ever. Milo’s parents are attentive, careful, and have spent months training and socializing Milo: Milo was on a leash, under control.

Milo enjoying his first day of snow ever on a local trail.

The dog who attacked Milo was a large bulldog, also on leash. The problem was that the owner took out both of his big, powerful dogs on leash at the same time in the snow. The bulldogs pulled the man right up to Milo, and with no apparent warning or vocalization, one of them bit Milo hard on the shoulder and didn’t let go. Chaos ensued, and Milo sustained several deep puncture wounds, one requiring a drain.

Another unfortunate thing about this situation is that it was not the first time this dog had attacked and injured another dog, unprovoked. The owner knew his dog could potentially attack another dog, yet still allowed it to happen. As I said in my previous blog about denial and aggression in dogs, denial is a powerful thing.

Unfortunately, this is not an isolated incident. Two weeks ago, Belle, a friend’s 13 year old dog was attacked by two large, off-leash dogs while on a walk with her dad. Belle was on leash and under control. Her back leg was badly punctured and subsequently became infected. Thankfully, she is feeling better after a course of antibiotics. The dog’s owner denied the attack, but was cited for having his dogs off leash and given a $250.00 fine.

Another friend’s chihuahua was attacked at a local dog park a few years ago. After the dog’s owner assured my friend that the dog was safe, he grabbed Zina in his jaws and shook her. The dog was large, and caused Zina extensive abdominal damage. One of her legs was so badly injured it had to be amputated. The owner initially took responsibility but had no money. She was 26 and unemployed. Whatcom Humane Society issued a potentially dangerous dog designation and the owner became hostile. Sue paid the bill. $7,000.

Zina after the attack, before her amputation
Zina and Bean today.

In spite of the damage they can cause, I have a very soft place in my heart for reactive and aggressive dogs. 95% of the time, dogs are aggressive because they are afraid–offense is the best defense. For six years, as a Certified Professional Dog Trainer, I worked exclusively with dogs who had fear aggression. My goal was to help owners build their dogs’ confidence, thus reducing the dogs’ fear and reactivity, and to teach owners how to handle their dogs in a safe and responsible manner. I even spent four years writing the novel, “Finding Vera”, in an attempt to give people a sense of what life might be like from the perspective of these special-needs dogs.

But no matter how much you love these dogs, being responsible for dogs who have issues with aggression is absolutely essential. If you aren’t responsible, the unthinkable can and will happen…puppies, dogs, cats, children, and adults are all potential victims if they are in the wrong place at the wrong time, and only you can minimize the chance of the “wrong time” ever occurring.

If your dog injures another dog:

Do not take it lightly. Dogs are powerful creatures with a bite force of up to 400 lbs per square inch and they can bite up to 6 times per second. If they are not well socialized before the age of 12-16 weeks, they may never acquire the social skills to be comfortable around other dogs, and may not learn how to control their bite adequately.
The injured dog might need to spend hours in the emergency clinic, need anesthesia, sutures, IV’s or drains, take antibiotics, require major surgery, and need to be crated and/or in an elizabethan collar for days or weeks depending on the extent of the injuries. In the worst case scenario, the victim may lose limbs or die.
The vet bills could be outrageous, and if you are a responsible owner, you will pay them without question.
The injured dog might be fearful of other dogs for the rest of his life. It is not unusual for one episode of intense fear to be permanently imprinted in the dog’s brain. This fear will often turn into aggression in an attempt to keep other dogs away.

Milo plays with his friend, Sasha, before he was injured. With his strong social skills, it is hopeful that Milo will not become reactive to other dogs.

The owners of the injured dog will also be traumatized emotionally–if not for life, for a very long time. Their sense of trust in other dogs will wane, and they may keep their dog away from other dogs completely, contributing to behavior issues in a previously well-socialized dog.
You or the owner of the victim could be badly bitten breaking up the fight. This does not happen infrequently.
Your dog could also be injured if a fight ensues.
Depending on where you live, you could run into legal problems–your dog could be declared a “dangerous dog” and, among other things, be required to wear a muzzle when leaving the house.
The owners of the injured dog might sue. If a child is injured, the legal repercussions could be devastating.
There might be pressure to euthanize your dog— legal pressure, peer pressure from the owner of the injured dog, or from your own sense of guilt.
You will not view your dog in the same way again. The damage he caused will affect your relationship, if not forever, for quite some time.

What can you do?

Get help from a professional dog trainer with experience in aggression training. Be sure to find someone who has a positive approach to working with your dog, and who does not use punishment-style techniques. Training that uses punishment and harsh corrections will only aggravate your dog’s behavior and irreversibly damage your relationship with him.
Keep your dog at distance from other dogs where he feels safe–that means if your dog stiffens, barks or lunges, you are too close. For some dogs, this can be 100 yards or more.
Do not take your dog off leash or to places where other dogs may run loose.
Do not take your dog to the dog park to “socialize him”.
If your dog has bitten another dog before, do not allow him to approach strange dogs, even if he acts like he wants to. Your dog might be interested in approaching, but once too close, fear takes over and he will lunge, bark, or bite (remember, 95% of aggression in dogs is fear based).
Only walk one dog at a time. It is impossible to control two or more dogs at once–even if they are small.
There is never a safe time to take chances. Once you let down your guard, bad things happen.
Always wear sturdy footwear. It is easy to trip, slip, or fall when things go south. Even in summer, wear protective footwear. Dogs’ toenails can be brutal on your sandaled feet.
Carry an air horn to keep off-leash dogs away from your dog if they approach. Desensitize your dog to the airhorn.

Update on Milo

Milo has a break from his Elizabethan collar and chews on his favorite chew toy.

Four days after the incident, Milo has his drain out. Although he needs to be kept quiet for another week or so, he is returning to normal. He was excited to see other dogs at the vet when he went in for his recheck.

The owners of the bulldogs were very remorseful and paid the vet bills in full. I am hoping they don’t stop there, and will get the help they need for their dog.

My next blog will discuss steps you can take to protect your well-socialized dog.

Photos courtesy of Laurie Potter, Sue Schmidt, and Debby Ayers.

Protecting Vera

In the very beginning, Vera pulled. She pulled on the leash so hard that she could drag a person into the ditch, and did so with volunteers at the shelter. She pulled because she needed to be first, because she was scared, or because she wanted to run. She pulled because she wanted to see another dog or because she needed to keep him away. Her legs were sturdy and powerful, well-muscled, her body whip-like and athletic. And she was single-minded. And strong. Incredibly strong.

Vera was polite and smart by nature…

Because she was so polite and smart, she soon learned to walk on a loose leash—even on a flat collar—without tension. Unless there was a squirrel or a cat or a deer or a dog. Then her reactions were dramatic, her bark frantic and cannon-loud, her body tense as steel, her eyes wild.

With such distractions and Vera in a flat collar, we, as her handlers, were doomed. I was dragged; Joel was tripped by the whip and spin of her body. And if we had Tessie or Lola, they would join in with dedicated excitement.

I was overpowered, her attention swallowed by her victim, such that even cheese and steak couldn’t distract her. She would choke, and with her trachea damaged from the chain that bound her in her first year and a half of life, we moved to the gentle leader where we could at least turn her head away from the distraction and maintain some control.

After working with a reactive dog trainer, we changed to two points of contact—wonder walker harness coupled with the head collar to take pressure off her muzzle and transfer it to the harness. Each end of the leash was clipped to one piece of equipment. For a long time, V shied away from the harness. The one she’d worn at the shelter had been too small, and rubbed behind her front legs, causing a raw, painful sore. Not realizing it was there, we had continued to walk her with it. It took years for her to get past this.

She was easier to handle with two points of contact. Sometimes we walked her on the narrow, winding roads of Sudden Valley. At 100 feet from a dog she would tense, alert, her eyes riveted, tail high over her back. We would treat her with cheese, hot dogs, do “look at that”, and walk her away. But still, she would look back, scared, tense, and ready to take on the world.

Two dogs bark at us from a deck high above. A crash, and in slow motion, the barrier shifts, gives way, smashes onto the steps below. The dogs leap the rubble, the drum of their paws thunderous on the wooden steps, their barks insane. I am quick, but V is quicker. She lunges, barks, her voice frantic, teeth exposed. I turn and run, my throat closed in panic. But V is like an anchor and in seconds the dogs are upon us.

“V, behind!” I shout. It is more of a scream. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. The road rises steeply above us, drops off below us, the hillside a 45 degree slope.

But V is intent on facing them off. She stands her ground in front of me. And attacks.

They fall back, their faces shocked, and in that moment, I swing my body between them. I face Vera. She is too strong to hold behind me. I pivot between Vera and the dogs, blocking their access to each other. If they connect, there will be blood and punctures, possibly slashes and tears. I can’t bear for Vera to be hurt. I can’t bear for her to injure another dog. I pivot between them and shout for help while the dogs bark and snarl and lunge around me. I am wearing shorts and my legs bleed and throb from Vera’s claws. The moments stretch, and I feel I have been there for eternity.

There is a honk, people shouting. The loose dogs falter, whirl, and they are gone, loping up the road away from us. The people in the car shout curses up at the house on the hill above me. And we leave.

Vera is unruffled. She struts beside me, calm, her mouth open, back straight, her eyes soft. There are no wrinkles on her head, and her ears are neutral. I have protected her. But I am fried. My body trembles like I’ve survived a battle. Every muscle aches, and I am chilled to the core in spite of the warm day.

Back home, we sit in the garden on the bench next to her digger-dog hole. She hops up beside me, allows my arm to circle her shoulders, allows my hand to caress her face, to rub her chest. She is not a demonstrative dog, and sitting there beside her, peaceful and safe, I am honored. I sink into her courage, am lost in her grace.

Training Tips

Loving and living with a reactive dog takes on a whole new meaning if you are only used to lovely, sweet, good natured dogs.
Your goal is always to keep your dog safe. For me it was at any cost and for years, blocking Vera from loose dogs with my body was my last-ditch diversion. Ironically, I was never bitten by V or by any of the loose dogs who tried to approach her. But I was lucky.
Watch for open garages, invisible fences that dogs can blow through, insecure fences and barriers.
Turn away from approaching dog walkers, always keeping in mind an escape route.
Carry high value treats. Dogs cannot respond to you when stressed in the same way they would when they are relaxed. But sometimes they will follow the odor of food.
As V aged, we learned that a small air horn, blasted at an approaching dog, even from 50-100 feet away, would keep approaching dogs at bay. They never seemed frightened, just confused and not interested in approaching–much better than having a human rage at them to stay away thus triggering a fear of humans.
You do need to desensitize your dog to the sound of the horn–best done by having someone help you. When you blast the horn, move your dog behind you.
- To desensitize: Give a short blast a distance from your dog (up to 100 feet depending on your dog’s sensitivity) with the sound focused in the opposite direction from your dog. Play with or feed your dog after the blast. Repeat twice more. If your dog is afraid after the first blast, stop play with your dog. A few days later increase your dog’s distance by at least 50 feet from the horn and increase the reinforcement after the blast. Play with your dog.

Tag: dog attack

Dog attacks