Spiked

Through the Heart

Portrait of Spike by Esther Koslow

My artist friends have occasionally painted and photographed my dogs. I’m lucky to live with all these images of present and past family members. The portrait of Spike above is one of my favorites as Esther caught the unmistakable look of sweet mayhem in his eye. Spike got people’s attention naturally—he was cute. Then he’d bomb them with his own body. “Oops! Did I knock you over?” He had every bad habit that dogs can get away with and still remain in their homes. He was a picky eater. Always noisy. Ran away whenever he could. And greeted people at the door by jumping on them and latching onto their clothes. His behavior tested friendships. Spike once pulled a dressy shirt off the back of a guest as he entered our house. I didn’t know him well, nor do I know him at all now. He was seriously pissed. But it was pointless to be angry at Spike. He laughed everything off and never took a negative comment personally. That was his magic.

Tilly, my current flame, is the opposite of Spike. She is calm, rarely barks unless there’s a deer in her face, doesn’t run away, and is totally trustworthy. She’s not picky about food—she eats everything.

Tilly is one of those dogs whom everybody loved and no one wanted. After months in a shelter, Out of the Pits, the oldest pit bull rescue in the country, took her to the safety of its private kennel and put her up for adoption. Many of the people associated with this rescue know a good dog when they see one. To be more specific, the rescue likes dogs who love people; it’s a plus when they also love other dogs and even cats. Out of the Pits generally responds to dogs in need of medical attention, regardless of breed. People tend to dump dogs for the worst reasons. But it is impossible to help dogs without helping them as well, always a good thing. People can learn and change. We hope.

In Tilly’s case, the rescuer saw her sitting in a crate where she had been for six months, parked at an animal control facility. Afterall, it’s summer and there are tens of thousands of homeless animals. (One thousand dogs and cats sit in the New York City system, alone.) “I could not stand to see her waiting there any longer,” her rescuer told me. Perhaps it’s fair to say that Tilly would not have been memorable in a line up of shelter dogs. So many fabulous, often older, dogs go unnoticed. Then all of a sudden—they’re noticed for one reason or another.

Tilly has an amazing face and great personality. She’s solid to the core. I spent an hour with her, left, and called to adopt her before I got home. She had excellent references from people I trust.

Here’s Tilly falling asleep in front of the TV. I think we were watching “Margot Needs Money,” not her favorite series, but one of mine.

A Trip to New York City

When I first took Tilly to the West Village in NYC a couple of months ago, she was frightened. When I took her the second time—she was still frightened. By the third time, she started to reconsider cement. She loved going nose to nose with other dogs in the street and soon found the few doormen and shop owners with treats in their pockets.

As soon as she raised her head, and people saw her face, she began getting unusual responses from strangers. Early one morning, a woman came up to me and said, in a conspiratorial whisper, “This dog will be loyal to you forever.” I smiled and asked, “How do you know?” She said, “Because I can see the future,” and then she laughed, loudly, and walked away. Don’t ask why, but I believed her.

Then there was the driver of a noisy sanitation truck that pulled over and parked the minute he saw us on the sidewalk. He looked maybe 30, backwards cap, blonde hair—handsome. He jumped out of his truck, ran over to pat Tilly and asked, “Can I have the pick of her next litter?” The dog had clearly had a few litters and was spayed last Christmas eve. “Sorry,” I told him. “Go to a shelter.”

When Peter (my husband) took Tilly for a walk a young woman fell to her knees in front of the dog, threw her arms around her neck and said, “I’m in love.” I think Peter had forgotten about the whole dog-chick-magnet thingy in NYC. Since then he has been quite willing to walk the dog.

Tilly makes friends, easily. So, I decided to enroll her in a class where she could learn some basic manners in order to pass a Therapy Dog test. I know we could do some good work together with Out of the Pits. The last time I did this, the dog I had then, Boyd, was the guinea pig. He was so lovable that I really wanted to share him. Bonnie Kelleher and Cyd Cross, both of Out of the Pits fame, were taking their dogs to a small women’s prison in Columbia County. The young prisoners, felons under the age of 21, were thoroughly entertained by the dogs. Bonnie’s dog, Samantha, was a skilled actor. When Bonnie would take aim and shoot the dog with a gestural thumb and forefinger, Samantha would fall over and play dead; the kids laughed and laughed, which I imagined was a good day in prison. I knew the inmates would love Boyd—he was the class clown. Athletic, amusing, obedient and what a good kisser! Cross worked with him and advised me to just take the Therapy Dog test cold—no preliminary classes. He got through most of it, but at the very end, he made one big mistake; he jumped up on a woman using a walker to get across the room. It was bad luck and there were no second chances. Boyd had failed, but he didn’t seem to care. I, on the other hand, felt like an idiot.

Boyd on deck

Tilly knows “sit,” “stay,” “down” and “place” thanks to Katie at Playful Pups in Hudson, NY. I strongly recommend her class. She only uses positive reinforcement along with handfuls of treats. She loves the dogs and is pretty good with their owners, as well. Tilly is the calmest, and oldest, member of the class. She mostly watches from her mat. There are several doodles (cute, but pains in the butt) a nice white hound/lab mix, a teeny mini-dachshund and an adorable pit bull on three strong legs named “Kaiser.” Sturdy and tasty like the roll.

Do dogs need manners? Since they have to live with us, the answer is Yes, they do. (And so do children.) Training is repetitive work, and a little dull, but the dogs get used to being around other dogs and enjoy learning. That’s the goal. For example, dogs who already know “sit” will get adopted first.

Recently, a friend drove hours to Pennsylvania to buy a puppy from a breeder (inevitably a puppy mill), a five pound poodle-yorkie, who was absolutely adorable. She paid just under $1,000 for this privilege and I understand why she took this little guy home. But there are so many cute little dogs available for adoption from rescues and shelters all over New York. There’s no reason to buy from breeders. Here’s one she might have chosen to adopt: Miki is a charming fireball. He’s young, opinionated, and energetic, which is why people are attracted to terriers. They are not sheep. Since Miki has been fostered by the A-Team at Out of the Pits, she’s in fabulous shape, and mastering excellent manners. Her foster mom describes her as “an entertaining sidekick who will steal the show.” She’s only 18 pounds. If you’re looking—check her out.

And come back next week for more tales of joy and woe. Will Tilly get her training certificate? I’m taking bets.

Miki, and an adorable litter of tricolored pups, are available at https://outofthepits.org/adoptions/miki/