Post by aeiou on Feb 10, 2015 14:48:41 GMT -5
Uber walked into our home.
I know some long time folks on here remember Uber when he was at GRA. He was a bit of a tough nut. When he first arrived at the kennel in 2006, he was a mess of fear. You'd open his crate to let him out, and he'd cower in the back. You'd offer him a cookie, and he'd pee himself. At the time, he was known as Killer, yup, that was his call name.
[Before I continue, no he was not abused in any way, which is the typical response I get from people. He is a genetic spook. He, his father, his grandfather and all of his siblings are exactly the same. I even dogsit his half sister (same father) and she's just like him despite being born and raised on opposite sides of the country.]
Killer took a long time to warm up to people. I spent extra time at every turnout I did offering him cookies with my back to him while I sat on the floor, and eventually, he'd come out to get them. No longer would he pee himself when you'd approach his crate, though he was still not entirely comfortable being around people, he started to know who loved him. Bill wasn't sure if we'd ever find him a home so he became K.C. (Killer Cowan) with the intention that he would go live with the house dogs.
Then the day came that he went to his first home. I was heart broken to arrive for turnout to find my special boy was gone home. Of course I was happy for him, he needed a home that would nurture him and bring him out the silly boy that we were starting to see. At the time, we had our pack of four, and hubby had put his foot down on number 5, despite my argument that our vowels needed a "U".
A year passed, and I'll never forget that night in January when I arrived for turnout to see him, renamed again to Casey, staring back at me. I knew him immediately! He was too thin. He was back to being terrified of everyone. I remember asking him what had happened and just holding him that night and letting the happy tears roll. I promised him that I'd work on hubby and we'd bring him home. I got home from turnout and pleaded with hubby to let him come home. I got the very reluctant green light so I called Bill (I think it was about 10 or 11 pm by then.. Bill was probably starting to get used to me doing that since it was the third time!). After he stopped laughing, he said to come out anytime to sign the papers.
February 7, 2007, two days after I had had foot surgery, we drove out to GRA to bring Uber home. He spent much of the next three weeks hiding in our bedroom. But he had an excellent teacher, Icarus, our alpha boy, took him under his wing and showed him how to trust us.
This is pretty much the expression we received for the first few months when you'd talk to him (look away and pretend that you can't hear her and maybe she'll go away):
It wasn't long before we started to see the real Uber come out. He was loud, he was demanding, and completely goofy...
Wrestling with "dad":
Playtime with Orion!
Icarus crossed the bridge just two short months after Uber came home, so he lost that guidance, but he seemed to do ok without him. Then Mojito came in 2009 as a foster, and this happened:
The cuddling works both ways:
She was a foster for all of ten minutes, I think. There was an immediate connection between these two and it hasn't waivered.
In less than four weeks, he'll be 13. He still sits like a champ:
and roaches:
Happy Eighth Gotcha Day, Uber... Loads of Love...
He is our first to see his eighth gotcha day and I hope beyond hope that we'll get to celebrate #9 next year.
I know some long time folks on here remember Uber when he was at GRA. He was a bit of a tough nut. When he first arrived at the kennel in 2006, he was a mess of fear. You'd open his crate to let him out, and he'd cower in the back. You'd offer him a cookie, and he'd pee himself. At the time, he was known as Killer, yup, that was his call name.
[Before I continue, no he was not abused in any way, which is the typical response I get from people. He is a genetic spook. He, his father, his grandfather and all of his siblings are exactly the same. I even dogsit his half sister (same father) and she's just like him despite being born and raised on opposite sides of the country.]
Killer took a long time to warm up to people. I spent extra time at every turnout I did offering him cookies with my back to him while I sat on the floor, and eventually, he'd come out to get them. No longer would he pee himself when you'd approach his crate, though he was still not entirely comfortable being around people, he started to know who loved him. Bill wasn't sure if we'd ever find him a home so he became K.C. (Killer Cowan) with the intention that he would go live with the house dogs.
Then the day came that he went to his first home. I was heart broken to arrive for turnout to find my special boy was gone home. Of course I was happy for him, he needed a home that would nurture him and bring him out the silly boy that we were starting to see. At the time, we had our pack of four, and hubby had put his foot down on number 5, despite my argument that our vowels needed a "U".
A year passed, and I'll never forget that night in January when I arrived for turnout to see him, renamed again to Casey, staring back at me. I knew him immediately! He was too thin. He was back to being terrified of everyone. I remember asking him what had happened and just holding him that night and letting the happy tears roll. I promised him that I'd work on hubby and we'd bring him home. I got home from turnout and pleaded with hubby to let him come home. I got the very reluctant green light so I called Bill (I think it was about 10 or 11 pm by then.. Bill was probably starting to get used to me doing that since it was the third time!). After he stopped laughing, he said to come out anytime to sign the papers.
February 7, 2007, two days after I had had foot surgery, we drove out to GRA to bring Uber home. He spent much of the next three weeks hiding in our bedroom. But he had an excellent teacher, Icarus, our alpha boy, took him under his wing and showed him how to trust us.
This is pretty much the expression we received for the first few months when you'd talk to him (look away and pretend that you can't hear her and maybe she'll go away):
It wasn't long before we started to see the real Uber come out. He was loud, he was demanding, and completely goofy...
Wrestling with "dad":
Playtime with Orion!
Icarus crossed the bridge just two short months after Uber came home, so he lost that guidance, but he seemed to do ok without him. Then Mojito came in 2009 as a foster, and this happened:
The cuddling works both ways:
She was a foster for all of ten minutes, I think. There was an immediate connection between these two and it hasn't waivered.
In less than four weeks, he'll be 13. He still sits like a champ:
and roaches:
Happy Eighth Gotcha Day, Uber... Loads of Love...
He is our first to see his eighth gotcha day and I hope beyond hope that we'll get to celebrate #9 next year.