Life Before Human

 I'm not the only one in this relationship who had a bit of a rough start. I don't know the exact details, but this is what I have.

Piecing my dog's history together was no easy feat, considering the number of owners he'd been through before he came to me. Fortunately, paper records managed to transition with him from owner to owner, and upon some digging, I was able to mostly sort out my dog's earlier life. I know who owned him, don't know exactly how it went, but drawing upon his behavior I have some educated theories.

The first record I have of him is from the pet store his first owner got him from. Upon digging into the information the sheet provided about the breeders who sold him to the store, I discovered, to my horror, that he'd been born in a puppy mill.

The papers from his first veterinary exam (done by the store) stated he had an abnormal dewclaw on his right hind leg that needed to be removed ASAP, an abnormal dewclaw he still had when we got him. We ended up being the ones to get the surgery done, as well as have him neutered.

He was purchased at the pet store at a young age, then was quickly returned to the same pet store later, I'm assuming after his new owners found out that Papillons are not cuddly lap dogs, but actually highly intelligent hunting dogs that require proper exercise, adequate mental stimulation, and a lot of attention. I'm assuming the next people who purchased him figured out the same thing, and foisted him off to someone (off kijiji) after a few scant months of owning him.

The information gets clearer from then on, considering this is the lady I got him from. She worked a lot so she didn't have time to take him for walks, instead training him to poop in her bathtub, so he rarely got taken outside. He was (understandably) highly destructive, so she took to locking him in a kennel all day to prevent him from destroying more of her property. He took to chewing on that abnormal dewclaw, probably because there was nothing else to do. At least she eventually realized she couldn't meet his needs adequately and put an ad up on kijiji, which I saw, you know how the rest of the story goes.

He was very anti-social when we first got him, skittish and agitated. He would automatically duck away if you went to pet him or pick him up, and even when he got better about that, he never seemed to actually enjoy the attention, always escaping the petting/cuddling as soon as possible. He had a strong dislike of kennels and being left alone, a problem which was exacerbated when he developed an attachment to me, having a full-on meltdown if I even left the room. I had to take him everywhere with me in the house, because if he could not reach me he panicked immediately.

He wasn't quite sure how to behave around other dogs, flailing madly and barking like a lunatic whenever he saw one, frequently choking himself on the leash in an attempt to get closer to the other canine in question. He was not house trained- except for going in the bathtub. He didn't know his name (which was good, because we changed it), he didn't know any commands, he didn't know how to play fetch or tug of war.

My educated guess is that the people he got passed around to didn't have time for a dog of his energy level, or underestimated how much work a dog was, or saw him only as a fluffy little designer dog you could stuff in your purse and carry around with you everywhere you go.

He's very intelligent, fortunately, so rehabilitating him from his bad habits has been a lot easier than it could have been. I got him before he even turned two, so his youth definitely played a factor in his ability to adjust and cope.

I am proud to say that he is now a shameless cuddle whore who adores and seeks attention from everyone he meets, heels nicely on the leash, knows eighteen commands/tricks, knows his name and the names of several specific objects (eg. "Ball", "Rope"), is (mostly) housebroken, does agility, and gets along fabulously with every dog he meets. The separation anxiety is a lot better, I can go to different rooms all over the house without him freaking out, though he still panics when I leave the house- we're working on that.

My parents got him as a therapy dog for me, but I sort of ended up becoming his therapy human too. We sort of rescued each other, in a weird way. The beginning was a bit of a crapshoot, but it turned out perfectly. I wouldn't trade him for any dog in the world.