This memory came up the other day so I thought I’d set it down in writing.
I can get along with almost any dog on the planet. I think there have been only five dogs I haven’t been able to make friends with, and that was mostly because I didn’t have the time to devote to the effort.
Before we got married, I used to babysit the wife’s house and animals when she and her first husband would go on vacation or a trip.
I got along with all her dogs, except for Ozzy. He was a Pomeranian. He was a good dog, and cute, but he did not like me. (Shocking, I know).
So, I was babysitting the house and dogs. I could interact with the other dogs. They’d play and want pets, and go in and out all day long.
Ozzy, wouldn’t do any of that. He sat in his cage and wouldn’t come out. If he did come out it was because he’d bark. I figured the bark meant he needed something so I would get up, then swing open the crate door. It wasn’t locked and he could push it open anytime he wanted. He just didn’t want to. Anyway, I’d swing open the crate door and he’d sit there. He wouldn’t do anything or come out, unless I opened the back door, which was a few feet from his crate.
He’d bolt out of his crate then run to the backyard. Most of the time it was just to go potty, but sometimes he’d stay out and play with the other dogs. When he came back inside, he’d bolt to his crate and hide inside.
Nothing I did would get him to come out. Coaxing didn’t work. Treats didn’t work. Talking to him didn’t work. I would just sit next to his crate and read silently but he still refused to come out. I had to put his food bowl in the crate just so he would eat. It would have looked bad if he died of starvation on my watch.
Finally after three days I stopped trying. I just let him be and he seemed happy where he was.
That night the dogs went out for a final potty break, I closed up the house, then I went to bed. All was well until near midnight.
Ozzy started whining. When a dog whines in the middle of the night it is almost always because they have to go out to potty. Ozzy had gone out with everyone else for the final call, but I guessed he didn’t do his business like he should have.
I got up, stumbled to his crate, opened it up, opened the back door, and waited. And waited. “You going out or what?”
Ozzy remained in his crate, whining.
I closed the back door, then sat on the ground by the crate.
Ozzy stepped out of the crate, then walked over and climbed into my lap. “Aw, do you miss your people? They’ll be back in a few days.”
I let him sit in my lap for a while, giving him pets. He calmed down and stopped whining, resting his head on my leg. After a few minutes I asked him to go back to his crate and go to sleep. He got out of my lap and went back to his crate. “We good?” He curled up and seemed content.
After that, we were buds. He would come running to me with the rest of the pack any time I went over to the house after that.
Sometimes it just takes a little time and patience to win a new friend.
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