Escape from Grey Gardens

Here is Hattie, a German shepherd puppy who showed up at our house last week. The first couple of nights she was around, she stayed under the house and barked and yapped all night. I couldn't get within 50 feet of her, she was scared and I though maybe injured, but I couldn't get to her to see. So I called Animal Control. This was Thursday, and it was raining buckets and cold. They said they'd have to set a humane trap for her, and they wouldn't do that in such nasty weather. Nor would they do it on a Friday, since there's nobody out picking up dogs on the weekend, and she could not sit in the trap until Monday.

This all turned out to be a very good thing.

Gary was grumbling about the noise, but he was also quietly leaving food out for her... that is so Gary, sweet and grumbly. So I went out and got puppy chow and biscuits and we gradually got her to be close to us with food. And at some point I said to myself, if she lets me pet her by Sunday and nobody calls about the ad I put in the paper or the postings on various lost and found pet websites, we will keep her. I stuck food near me and sat patiently with my hands down and let her come to me. She'd grab the food and run. Then I put the food in my hand but didn't move it. It took her awhile, but she took it. Then I set it in my hand and rested it on the other hand, so it was in petting position. After quite a few times, she let me pet her, and I could feel her body eventually relax. And now--well, she follows us around outside, and she's gotten enough to eat so that she's starting to act very puppyish. She does a little dance step with a kind of scissors-kick. For some reason that little dance made me think of the name "Hattie." I looked it up and it means "Mistress of the House" and is Germanic, so that fits in every way.

This morning the minute Animal Control opened I called them and said, never mind, don't come, she's staying. We go to the vet Thursday. Meanwhile I am weaning her away from her safe place under the house by moving dog bed incrementally to porch, then into box on porch, then closer to house in box on porch, the she will be in house, in box. We will keep her separate from the boys and introduce them gradually, too.

I'm pretty sure someone dumped her out here. That happens when you live just a bit over the edge of town. We can't take them all in, but this one got to me somehow with her little dance. Maybe she was a Christmas present--that's about the right age--someone decided s/he didn't want. Phooey on that, and the revenge will be she will grow up to be beautiful and smart and a great dog. I'm not sure she's all shepherd but there's quite a bit of it in her. She has quit barking at night--she was merely scared and hungry.

The funny thing is, a couple of days before she showed up a colleague and I had been reminiscing about the German Shepherds each of us had once, and I said I'd really like to have another one. Someone heard me.

So this weekend I got a nasty cold and a dancing puppy named Hattie.