New House, New Dog?

Throwing the biggest temper tantrums, giving me his “I don’t want to talk to you” face, not eating his food until I leave the room, and driving me crazy— no, it’s not my brothers; it’s my dog, ever since we've moved, it’s like everything I've taught him is still at my old house.

I have this stuffed elephant that’s bigger than I am. I get home from school— Gibbs is chewing on it on my bed. It is bad enough he was on my bed to begin with, but he’s chewing on my elephant. Who does he think he is? I grab it from him, and he barks and growls at me as if I was trying to hurt him. I tell him to stop but that doesn't seem to work. Usually if I tell him to stop, he will do so without hesitation and without a second to lose. I drag him outside and keep him out there for a while. My elephant isn't badly ruined, but it disappoints me that he’d even do this in the first place; I thought I've trained him better.

Putting it all aside, I go outside to do my observations, and Gibbs is on the other side of the yard. I grab his ball and throw it. He just stands there and watches it. I walk towards him, and he keeps getting farther and farther away from me. I start to chase him, and he begins to run. When I finally give up, he still keeps his distance. What is wrong with this dog? I sit on the grass and watch him. Eventually, he lies down and stares at me. He keeps his distance but watches me the whole time. I start to walk inside, and he follows. Gibbs still keeps his distance the whole time; as he gets inside the house, I rush at him and force him to play with me. He simply just can't or is too stubborn to. I go into the kitchen and put food in his bowl. He walks straight towards it and lies right next to it, staring at me. What is this dog trying to prove? I walk to the television to change the channel, and Gibbs begins eating his food. As soon as I get back, he stops. He is driving me insane. I can't handle him changing or him just showing how he truly acts.

~~~~~~

I sat down to finish my observations, but I couldn't write how bad of a dog he was being. He was being a bad dog, but in my mind, I knew he wasn't intentionally doing this. According to Laura Garber, “Dogs can be sensitive to changes in their lives, just as humans can be… all of these can upset a dog’s routine and trigger troubling behavior changes” (Garber). In the back of my head, I knew it was the move, but was too focused on how much the move would affect me that I didn't realize how much it affected Gibbs. New house— it means a new place to adapt to and get used to. I think it’s harder on dogs than humans. Humans have different roles and responsibilities in their lives, it’s practically mandatory to get used to change. Dogs have one role, to be a dog. What humans usually don’t realize is how sensitive dogs can be when their surroundings change dramatically. We all might want to believe that our dog doesn't have an opinion to certain changes, but they do. We have to take their feelings into consideration when making decisions as big as moving into a different house.

I never once thought that Gibbs wouldn't like the house because I never even considered if he would or not. It may be the house or it may be just him needing to be trained again, whatever the case, I had to make him see the house as his new home. I grabbed his leash and forced it on him. I started walking him around the house— inside, outside, through every room, closet, and every inch of the backyard. Soon he began to roam through the house without me forcing him to (like it’s always been), so I took his leash off. We started to play in the backyard like we always did. I left him out there so he could sniff around and get used to it. I knew by how fast he was running around, trying to explore the whole backyard that he was beginning to get comfortable around it— that’s all I've wanted. I took him inside and he lay down on his bed next to the fireplace. Ever since we've moved, I haven’t ever seen him lie there. It made me smile. I lay on the couch next to him, and he cuddled underneath my feet. We both took a deep breath, and, in that moment, we were both thinking the same thing— this is our new home.  

Garber, Laura. “Tips to Help Your Dog Deal with Life Changes”. Today Pets and Animals. N.p. 28  
          Sept. 2012. Web. 2 Nov. 2014. 

The Beginning

As I continue to observe Gibbs, I have started to think about the time I was first told we were getting him. When we first got Gibbs I didn't even think I'd ever love a dog more than I've loved Yoda. Yoda was my chihuahua who died in a hit and run in front of my house a couple of years ago. There was no warning and never had I thought that I would ever want another dog after that. Yoda had a special place in my heart. I loved and cherished him. When he died, it was as if there was a part of me that died with him. I was heartbroken. We buried him in my backyard. Every night I would go outside and just talk to him about my day. There was an occasional tear but I managed to stay strong because, if Yoda was still with me, he'd lick my face; there was no way I could cry when Yoda was with me so that's what kept me happy. Day by day, it was a lot more difficult to talk to Yoda, and eventually I just stopped going. I would visit him from time to time, but not like I would before.

My parents started a group message and sent all of us a picture of two different dogs. One was a light skinned pit bull that was about seven months old, and one was a dark haired Labrador that was about three months old. I didn't think much of it; who would? My parents had never brought up getting a new dog. After messages between my brothers and parents began popping up on my screen, I decided to read them and join in. My parents were dead serious about which dog we should get. My brothers were just as serious as they were. I didn't bother to reply; they had their mind set and knew exactly what they were going to do. My opinion was never asked or cared for, so I just didn't bother. My parents said that the light skinned pit bull had another loving family that wanted him terribly, and there was no way they could take the opportunity away from that family to love the dog just as much as we would have. It came down to the dark haired Labrador. I didn't want to get involved, so I just stopped reading the messages and let them talk it out.

As soon as I got home, there he was lying next to my mom's feet, a medium sized Labrador. Of course I was scared; I mean, who wouldn't be? I went to my room, and my parents brought him in. They first told me his name was Ranger, but they wanted to change it to Gibbs. I didn't disagree but neither did I agree. I didn't want the dog in the first place; why would I care whether his name was Gibbs or Ranger? They left the room and left him in my room. I stood up, and Gibbs flinched to the point where was he was on the other side of the room. He wasn't trying to attack me. He had that look in his eyes--the look of "don't hurt me please." That definitely got to me; this dog didn't see me as threat that he needed to defend himself against. He saw me as someone who could potentially treat him the way he's been treated before and just wanted it to stop. I talked to my parents, and they told me that Gibbs was found in the streets about a week ago. He was a lot skinnier than he was now due to lack of food and nutrients in his body, and he was badly beaten. His skin had been burned, and there were bruises all over his body. That made me tear up; how could someone in this world treat a dog so horribly?

It made me think of Yoda; how could someone run over a dog and not even bother to stop? There was nothing I could do about Yoda; he was in a better place where he could have all the treats he wanted. I could do something for Gibbs. Gibbs was still living in this world where people like the ones who neglected and abused him still lived. Now he was under our care and protection, and there was no way I would let anything hurt him again.

I let my emotions cloud my judgement, and my past affect my future. I surely did not need a dog, but that dog needed me more than anything. I couldn't let the pain of losing Yoda affect my affection and care for a dog that would love and protect me just as much and if not more than Yoda did. I could see it in Gibbs's eyes; he just wanted to be loved by someone, anyone for that matter. As of now, I love Gibbs so much. Even if it's taken me this long, realizing that I needed Gibbs just as much as he needed me makes my love for him grow more and more everyday.

Gibbs had never Changed

I talk to him when I'm lonesome like;
And I'm sure he understands.
When he looks at me so attentively,
And gently licks my hands;
Then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes,
But I never say naught thereat.
For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes,
But never a friend like that.

W. Dayton Wedgefarth

Dogs will always come with a problem here and there that in the moment we tend to see as the only thing that they bring into our lives. Humans will overlook the happiness and joy that the dog also brings into their lives. In that moment we take the dog for granted and that's when we forget that that the dog will never get mad at you for the wrong you have done to them. We can always fix what the dog ruined but we can't always fix the emotional trauma it causes the dog. There will always be a replacement to the thing that is ruined but there won't be anything that can come anywhere near replacing the dog. 

This poem had me thinking about how much Gibbs has changed from the time I started to observe him to now, but Gibbs had never changed. The only thing that changed was my whole perspective and understanding of Gibbs. He was always just the family dog to me that I love and care for. He's so much more than that. I always thought that it was only me observing him but in reality he was observing me too. I'd tell Gibbs all my problems and in the process would break down in front of him. That's when he would comfort me. He made me feel like even with all the problems I'm going through that him not being there would never be one of them. It felt amazing to know that there was one thing on this planet that would never leave your side intentionally. Gibbs would lick me until those tears went away and I had a smile on my face. Gibbs knew me better than my brothers knew me. He'd know when I was sad, mad, upset, happy, and even when I just needed his presence. There were times I'd get mad at Gibbs for being out of control and I would yell at him. I never knew that yelling at him affects him dramatically. He wouldn't come anywhere near me for a while and even then he would be cautious when I was around. I couldn't change the way he was feeling; he wouldn't let me change the way he was feeling. In that moment I knew that I can change the way he acts by training him not to act that way but I couldn't change the way that I reacted and I can't change the way he's feeling. 

Memory of a Dog

I haven't seem much of my little Gibbers but every time he sees me it's as if it was for the first time. He'll jump on me and go crazy but sometimes he would growl and bark at me as if he literally has seen me for the first time. He wouldn't get anywhere near me unless I forced him to and even then he resisted. After a few minutes he would sniff me and realize who I am. I just wonder if dogs have short term memory, it's not like I'm out of the house for days at a time, I'm out for 3 hours and it's as if he never even knew me. My Gibbs never does this, what's so different now? Is it the medicine he has been taking?

The Love of a Dog

A dog is supposed to be a man's best friend but in my eyes Gibbs is so much more than that; he's my sane from my own insanity. Lately I've been so stressed out and confused. I've let my emotions get the best of me and take control of my life, but in the midst of everything that was happening Gibbs stood right by my side. No one knew what was going on with me, not my parents, not my brothers, not even my closest friends. Gibbs knew, even if he was just a dog. I wouldn't have to look at him he would just crawl up next to me and lay there with me. He wouldn't move unless I moved. He wouldn't even leave to go eat or go outside unless I went and he followed. He stood by the bathroom door as I showered and when I would come home he would be in my room just waiting for me. As I did my homework he would lay next to my desk, but what got to me the most is when I would break down and cry and he would lay next to me and lick the tears from my face (it probably wasn't sanitary) but he did it every time and wouldn't stop until I stopped crying. He would look at me with those puppy dog eyes as if he was begging me to stop. If he wasn't there I would have probably just cried myself to sleep every time but his presence prevented that. It felt amazing to know that someone or something in this world relied on my happiness to make them self happy. I had an obligation to Gibbs to be happy and stay happy because there's no way he could see me sad. Now he's going through a hard time, he has a bunch of bumps on him that he keeps scratching and now had lead to the bumps bleeding and turning into scabs. He's been on medicine that makes him drowsy that ultimately makes him depressed. It breaks my heart to see him this way but there's no way I'm letting him stay this way. He was there for me when I hit rock bottom now I'll be here for him when he's at his lowest point. There's nothing I won't do for him because I know that he'll do anything for me.

The Desire to Protect

I really haven't spent quality time with Gibbs in quite awhile. I've been so busy with volleyball, school, and work that seeing him is nearly impossible. But with all the stuff happening in my life, he always tries to find a way to let me know that he loves me. Whether it's running up to me as soon as I get home, or scratching on my door to let him in so he can come lay down by my desk, he always shows his affection.

I injured my knee about a week ago so I've been in bed rest for a couple days. Gibbs ran up to me when I got home from the hospital and saw my crutches; he stopped and backed up. He's deathly afraid of crutches since the last time I had crutches it fell on him. He slowly walks up to me and sniffs and licks my brace. He follows me to my room and jumps on my bed. He's not allowed to be on my bed but he just wouldn't get off. When my brother pushed him down, he gets back up and just cuddles right next to me. It's like he didn't want to leave my side, regardless of the fact he knew it wasn't allowed. I finally gave in and let him lay next to me. He kept waking up, even if I made the slightest movement or noise he would check on me to see if I'm okay. When there was a sound from the window or a knock on my door he would bark. He didn't let anyone near me unless he was in the middle. Everywhere I went, he followed. I'd go to the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room, my brother's room, or my parent's room and he'd be right behind me. The only time he left me alone was to go eat or if he needed to go outside, other than that he never left my side.

Gibbs always protected me but not like that. Maybe it was because I was hurt and he could feel that or because I was home more and he got to see me, whatever the reason I can honestly say that it made me love that dog so much more. I was never his favorite but even if I wasn't he'd still protect me the way he did. It made me grow so much more attached to him.

Was his loyalty a result from us rescuing him from the hell he had endured? Or was it natural for him to be as loyal as he was?