Tigger

Tigger - 365 Days Later

The ‘phone call came unexpectedly from Paul. “We think we’ve found a dog for you ……..”
Seeing as I was expecting a call about two dogs, and not for a few weeks, this was indeed unexpected.
“He’s lovely, friendly, come over from Ireland, a real cuddle monster …..” I can’t remember quite what other phrases were used about him, but knew there was a “but”.

The “but” was somewhat unexpected, and resulted in so many 'phone calls to Wiccaweys and questions over the next few days, that their 'phone number has been committed to memory forever.

Eventually the questions came to an end, except for one. “Can we meet him .....?”
That was a on a Saturday morning, and with a move to foster in Oxford due the next day, we asked if we could go to Leicestershire to meet him that afternoon.

Off we went to meet Trigger – and let's not forget Paul and Sarah either – with my first impression of Paul being of a guy hanging out of the window of Flossie the Collie Ambulance, waving furiously as Sarah guided us to Wiccaweys.



Trigger – well, what can I say – one very shy boy, sable and white, with a dry, brown nose, who was so nervous of people that he took some persuading that we were worth meeting. An Irish boy who’d been found as a stray, and been kept in a yard for many months. But eventually he came to meet us, and quietly sat there while we gave him some fuss. Sarah was obviously his real Mummy though and Trigger gave Stanley a real telling off that day for taking Sarah's cuddles away from him.

As soon as Sarah and Paul said you can adopt him; he became Tigger. With his apt colouring and just knowing that he was going to live up to a reputation of being bouncy and fun, he just was Tigger.

A quiet drive home, with me keeping an eye on Tigger to check he was OK as he sat in the boot of the car. But, I think that was the last peace we had – and certainly the last time we felt we drew breath for quite a few weeks.

The first mistake we made was to take Tigger into the back garden where we let him off his lead to explore. To say he ran around the garden is an understatement. Round and round and round he tore, leaping anything in his path, going backwards and forwards and resisting any efforts to either catch him or persuade him to slow down. I was already fretting that he would injure himself and I’d be having to confess all to Wiccaweys.

Eventually, the steam ran out and the house was entered. Things did not improve. The house was an alien land which had to be climbed over, mouthed, picked up, moved, and run away from.

Sarah had said “give us a ring in a few days and let us know how things are going”. A few days ………. I reckon I was on the ‘phone within the hour! That was when we found out Tigger had had his jaw broken at some point, and once again my heart went out to our little man. and I was even more determined to let Tigger learn “not everyone’s bad”.

Yet Tigger just did not run out of steam. We seemed to have a dog who never slept – well, maybe for a couple of hours when we weren’t looking. He wouldn’t eat – and then proceeded to guard his food bowl with great ferocity, snarling and with a real dangerous glint in his eye. We could not leave him alone in a room for fear of him hurting himself as he threw himself over the furniture, using chairs as springboards and tables as walkways and picked up, chewed or mouthed everything he could then reach. It truly seemed as if the only things still in the same place in the house were the ceiling lights!

If one of us was in the house on our own, he accompanied us everywhere, both through choice and necessity. If we took a shower, it was safer to have him in the bathroom than wonder whether he was chewing through an electric cable, and he “slept” in the bedroom because we’d had to get him a safe crate, but really didn’t want to use it at night as well as during the day, especially as any bedding that was put in there was being systematically shredded into one inch squares while we were out. If he wanted to go into the garden, we had to put him on a lead, because otherwise he ran the equivalent Grand National around the garden before he would come in again.

Taking Tigger out into the big, wide world was another challenge. It was absolutely obvious he had never really been on a lead. He did not so much go forwards as sideways, backwards, round, up – however before long this was replaced by the rescue collie tug. Yet life outside was scary too. Forget ghost trains, a walk down a street which contained a street lamp, temporary road sign, cyclist, any sort of vehicle, moving or stationery, piece of rubbish – you name it, was so scary for him. Nor could Tigger cope with walking over bridges, of which there are many in our village – just nice safe bridges over diddy little streams – he would just lie down and refuse to budge. And as for people ……. oh no. We didn’t do people at all.

So we had people outside the house to contend with, and even worse, friends and family who visited the house. We had to “book” visitors in – who would then spend hours (literally) having their eardrums dented, while Tigger explained to them at length just how much they worried him from as far away as possible.

Yet he still had love to give, and would quietly pad over to you and lean up against you, and there was just this glimmer for us that things would get better. One morning I woke up very early, and opened my eyes to find two big brown eyes gazing back at me, as Tigger sat quietly, resting his chin on the edge of bed, seemingly watching over me. Quite moving.

And he just loved looking out on the world. If he could look out of a vehicle window, or sit on the windowsill, or stand with his paws on the bedroom windowsill looking out (something which he seemed to spend all night doing when he wasn't systematically removing the wallpaper for us) he was most contented.





Sarah had put us in contact with a friend, who runs dog training classes near us – and Tigger started attending these straight away. Tigger loved his lessons, and showed his enjoyment of learning from the outset, and we started to have something constructive to aim for.

Most days however were filled with watching Tigger. What had he climbed on, and where was his mouth. Sleep had been scarce, meals were cobbled together in haste, items that had been removed from his mouth at some point were scattered on top of anywhere we had managed to put them at the time, and we just could not do anything or get anything done.

One evening we put Tigger in his crate, and went out to a local pub for, quite literally, a proper meal in peace. And we talked and wondered whether we were really good enough for Tigger. We were not quitters, we loved Tigger, we wanted to keep him, yet felt we were failing him and perhaps he deserved better. Not only that, we felt we were failing Sarah and Paul as well. We had rung them so many times for advice, and they had unfailingly talked us through the problems we were having – they must have felt we were ‘right’ for Tigger, and they had invested so much time in him with us and we just were not coping and giving Tigger the life he deserved.

Maybe the time we spent away helped, or maybe talking through so many things helped us to give off a calmer feel to Tigger, because things in the next week began to improve. Graham rang me at work one afternoon. “Tigger’s in the garden – off his lead”. The shriek of “what” from my end of the ‘phone must have been heard by everyone in the office – yet it seemed he was trotting around the garden quite calmly. OK, so this didn’t continue all the time, but it was no longer necessary for us to stand outside with him every time he wanted to go outside.

I started sitting on a stool outside the house, with Tigger sat by my side, so he could get used to people walking past. Eventually I was able to move to sitting in the village, so Tigger could just watch whilst people and cars went by.

Progress was slow, and sometimes difficult to see, patience was needed and yet when you look back, you know how far Tigger has come. Tigger learnt that bridges were not going to eat him – and learnt that playing in the stream afterwards was great fun. Food guarding improved slightly – and a change in feed to something he enjoyed more seemed to improve not only his hyperactivity, but his tendency to guard too – after all, what point is there in guarding an empty bowl! Tigger now eats a completely natural raw diet.

It became possible to actually do something in the house – albeit that there would always be a face peering at you to see what you were up to (isn’t that just what we love about collies). And he was a real boy – anything technical was fascinating – tools, engineering, woodwork. He learnt to play – with balls, raggers, balls, rings and balls. We found he loved hide and seek – whether it was to find a ball or one of us.

His nose, which I thought would always be brown, turned black and shiny, his coat softened and shone, and the handsome boy who others had seen all along started to become apparent to us too, as we started to see past the problems to the real Tigger beyond.

We sat Tigger in our camper van on the drive one day – he liked it – especially sitting on the front seat viewing the world. So we took him down to the local woods, parked up, made lunch, took him for a walk – all the things we would do if were away. Tigger thought this was fine – so that meant we could take him away for weekends to new places – and he was off into a new world of walks, fun, doggy friends and adventures.

People were still a problem. They were scary. Walks were always fraught as we could have to pass someone. Walks in busy areas were extremely difficult, but we kept trying. Tigger obviously felt that people were deliberately leaping out of doorways at him, and appeared when he least expected him. And then they wanted to touch him, which was far too much.

The turning point seemed to be the new Wiccaweys HQ.
Everyone there a “dog” person, and when we helped out there Tigger just had to keep meeting people. Alexa started to get her special Tigger greeting, then Dougie. Gradually the taller men became acceptable, and eventually the day came when Tigger forgot to bark at Paul before he went to him. Noticeably Tigger has devised his own little code. “When I think you are OK, I will proffer my paw. When I really want to get to know you, I will stand up on my hind legs, lean against you gently and greet you properly.” People are still scary, but perhaps the day will come ……

There is a real serenity about Tigger – his quiet movement compared to his size astounds me. He is a proud, gentle man. His stillness and calmness is something which few people see, as it is saved for when he feels safe and chilled out, when he settles down with a contented grunt for a cuddle.

Yet he has a real zest for life, enjoys fun and action and games – and the chance to act out his puppy hood, two years after he should have been enjoying it. And anyone who says a dog doesn’t smile, I totally disagree with – Tigger’s eyes light up, and his mouth drops open into a big huge smile and he laughs at life.

Whichever of us is home first is greeted warmly as Tigger comes out of his crate. The second person home is greeted with the sight of Tigger standing up to or lying on the windowsill in the living room or bedroom, waiting for you to come home – and by the time you are through the gate, he is there to welcome you. And you just know that the decision to bring him home was the right one. These days if you are really lucky, he will come and lie on your knee, and maybe just check that your paws are clean enough for him.

So it is a year today since Tigger joined us here. And as a special tribute to an Irish boy, we have given him an official birthday on St George’s Day – so today he is officially 2.

So thanks to Aisling and all at Limerick Animal Welfare for rescuing our wonderful boy in Ireland and letting him come over to England.

And thanks to Paddy, Tigger’s trainer. Sarah certainly helped us to choose well when she suggested we contact Paddy, who has given us so much time over and above our lessons, to answer our questions and send us detailed e-mails suggesting ways we can work with Tigger.

However, we would not have had Tigger here today without the incredible support we have received from Sarah and Paul. Time after time we rang them for advice and sent them e-mails with questions. Every time they came back to us and helped us and talked us through countless problems, and we know we have taken hours and hours of their time – and they have taught us so much this year.

And the “but” that Paul had to mention to us when he first spoke to us about Tigger?
Merely the fact that Tigger is deaf. Yet the deafness has never been a problem or a handicap to his love and enjoyment of life, and the problems we have had have never been down to his deafness. Tigger is a dog who plays, learns, loves and gets up to mischief, just like any collie – from digging holes in the garden, to an obsession with stealing clothes, clothes pegs and tissues. Tigger just happens to be deaf, just as some collies have the misfortune to be black and white. And anyone who now says to me “but how do you train a deaf dog” is likely to be in for a very long chat.

For all those who work so hard for Wiccaweys and other Rescues, I am sure that life must bring you much heartbreak, frustration and sadness, and perhaps a sense of inadequacy that this is so much to be done, with never enough time, people or resources to succeed in doing it all.

Next time things seem bleak, just remember Tigger, who is just one success story, and a testimony to all your hard work. Tigger has brought real joy, happiness and love into our lives. Tigger's a wonderful, special boy who truly lives up to the nickname he has here - “Sunshine”.

Best Wishes,

Margaret, Graham & Tigger

Tess

Tess - 1 year on.

A year ago today we drove up to Toddington services on the M1 where we meet Sarah. We collected our new foster dog, an incredibly pretty and extremely nervous young girl called Tess.

It was love at first sight for me. Tess had been rescued from a farm where she had been found chained
up and being beaten. She had a wound on her head where she had been hit and her teeth were ground down from trying to chew through the chain to free herself. She was horribly thin and utterly terrified of everything.

Back home we couldn't get anywhere near her yet if we were out of her sight she would mess in the house and wreck the place. She was never still and paced constantly including at night. For two weeks we barely slept and at one point had a serious discussion about whether we should return her to Wiccaweys as it was just getting too much. Then we tried crating her which helped with the messing and destruction, but then we found out (via a very displeased neighbour) that if she couldn't be out taking her frustrations out on other things she would bark constantly (and I mean constantly) while we were gone. When we took her out it was like trying to walk a wild horse. The slightest noise send her flying into the air and the sight of a strange human caused blind panic. If someone came to the house she would run and hide upstairs.

Slowly Tess made progress. We experimented with places to leave her when we were out and eventually cracked the barking problem. She learnt to lay down and go to sleep occassionally and started to enjoy her walks. She even started looking for a fuss occassionally.

As she has got to know us she blossomed into an affectionate, happy, playful girl. So 2 months after we picked her up she went on to the Homes Needed page. Around the same time we went out for the day and my
Mum came to let the dogs out for us. Tess got totally panicked at the sight of another person in her house and apparently started thrashing around in her crate like a wild animal. She actually managed to snap her
own harness. It was this incident that made me begin to question whether letting her go was the right thing. I cried for hours thinking about how scared she must have been and how scared she would be if she went to a
new home.

We agonised for two more months over what to do with Tess. For a long time I said to myself that my feelings for her didn't matter and I would get over her going to a new home and be able to help more dogs.
But I couldn't get over that thought that all the progress she had made with us was only with us. In the face of a new person she was the same dog we had met at Toddington. I couldn't bear the idea of putting her
through all that again when she was already starting to be happy here with us.

Eventually in April we admitted defeat and asked if Tess could stay here permanently. Although she still has her challenges it was without doubt the best decision we ever made.

Tess has completely gotten over her separation anxiety now and will happily be at home alone without issue. She is still nervous of people she doesn't know, but she'll go up to them for a treat and you can see
that she gets more relaxed with people each time she meets them. She will approach my family and wag her tail at them now. When she is at home with us she shows no sign of being that same scared little girl.

She is happy, always with a big grin on her face and her tail held high and wagging. She has such a happy silly personality under all that fear and loves to chuck her bones around and pounce on them or play fight with us. For a long time she was still wary of Dave but now she plays with him as much as me and even rolls on her back so he can rub her tummy. She has been off lead during recent visits to Wiccaweys and seeing her charging around freely having a fabulous time has brought a tear to my eye. Last time she was even playing ball with Tigger and running up to Mrs B in between throws.

I'm so glad we're such rubbish fosterers and we can't imagine not having Tess here now. Our five are all so different and each one brings something special to the mix. Tess has us in stitches with her ugly yawns, her elaborate stretches, her silly moments, her clumsy attempts to get on our laps and her singing. Earning Tess' love and trust has been a huge honour and sharing her life over the last year has been an absolute joy.

Being the first and only people to gain her trust has enabled us to forge a bond with Tess that is stronger than with any other dog. A dog from a difficult past may be hard work but winning them over makes it SO worth it!

Best Wishes,

Sarah, Dave, Tess and the Sprog Dogs!

Harley

Harley - 1 year on, and at his 1st Flyball tournament.

It's been a year now since Sarah and Paul brought this skinny little collie to our house, and what a difference a year makes.

To say Harley (aka Charlie) has been a challenge is certainly an understatement. I would imagine that his previous owners had no idea of the breed, and he certainly would have ruled the roost in their home. Being a cocky little devil, he challenged my bossy little collie bitch, who immediately put him in his place. That was his first lesson.

Harley was an adrenalin junkie. He would rush to the window, squeal, bark and belt around like a looney. He wound himself up into a frenzy chasing shadows, birds and anything that moved.
He escaped 3 times into the fields behind our house when he heard foxes barking. We finally found where he was getting through and it was so tiny that a ferret would have a tight sqeeze, never mind a dog. If I didn't take him for a walk when he wanted to go, he would stand in front of me and bark his head off. When that didn't work he tried rushing around and jumping on the furniture. This wound my other dogs up who then started joining in. I ignored him and refused to take him anywhere until he lay down quietly. It took many months before he accepted this and he does have the occasional lapse.

I took him to all the agility and flyball shows last summer and he was a swine. He barked, lunged at passing dogs (no malice just excitement) pulled me over - he is so strong, and generally behaved like the dog from hell. He escaped from the caravan, and was running amok in the ring. He chases anything that moves and won't come when called. I felt that he was not bonding with me and was still doing his own thing. He started flyball training a few months ago and this helped with his recall.

All this went on for quite a while and being one who will not give up, I persevered. Within the last 2 mnths he has taken a huge leap forward. He is listening to me, has stopped trying to be boss and has turned into a cuddle monster. I still only let him off lead in certain areas as he chases wildlife, but he will return to me a lot quicker. His behaviour has imroved a great deal, although there are still one or two things left to work on.

These pictures are from Harley's first starters tournement at Carlton Towers. He ran like a trooper and controlled his excitement. I was so proud of him and walked around with a big grin on my face all day.
This crazy mad dog IS GETTING THERE.