TulsaPets Magazine January 2024

32 TulsaPets • January / February 2024 had lived his entire young life on a chain, there needed to be a few more chapters added to that tale. When Rudy arrived at our home, he was justifiably confused and nervous. After introductions with our other dogs, we let him explore our house. But his behavior was unlike past dogs being initiated into the routine of our home. It was as if he had no concept of how to behave if not restrict- ed by a chain secured to his collar. He paced our home for hours. He bounced from one end of the house to the other in an awkward, clumsy gait. His frenetic energy didn’t appear to be born of fear or anxiety, but rather because he seemed to have no idea how to stop once he got started. As we watched him, it was clear this seven-month-old puppy didn’t have the ability to move properly. Because he had been restricted at such a young age, he never developed the muscles and flexibility that allow Dalmatians their trademark flowing gait. Rudy moved about like a gangly, hours- old colt struggling to control long, uncoor- dinated legs. At his age, he should have been able to zoom athletically through our house and yard. Instead, he flailed about awk- wardly, even stumbling into furniture and other dogs. Watching him, you might have thought we lived on a rolling houseboat instead of a home with a stable foundation. When we offered him his first small meal, he grabbed frantically at the food, chasing the kibble around the bowl with open, hungry jaws. Rudy was so ravenous that his mind and mouth couldn’t seem to coordinate the effort. We hand-fed his first few meals to help him slow down, allowing little mouthfuls for him to chew. Each meal was met with panicky enthusiasm. It was clear he was surprised to receive food at such regular intervals. As we continued to get to know our new charge, I realized he didn’t respond to the sound of my voice. Initially I thought he might be hearing impaired, a condition that can affect approximately one in 20 Dalmatians to some degree. But Rudy was not deaf — he simply didn’t assign any meaning to the tones of the human voice. Normally, dogs respond to the high- er-pitched sound of praise, the deeper sound of instruction, murmurs of affec- tion, or the laughter that comes with play. To Rudy, however, none of it had any appeal. This puppy had apparently never had anyone talk to him enough to allow him to form a fledgling understanding of human-to-dog communication. I think this realization is the one that bruised my heart the most. We could fix skinny. We could help him get proper exer- cise. We could make sure he received four meals a day on the road to recovery. But we could never replace his carefree puppy days. We couldn’t give Rudy the experience of being a treasured eight-week-old puppy heading off to a loving family. He was com- pletely robbed of that important experience. Unchaining Rudy’s Brain We could, however, make up for lost time, something Jim and I are very adept at, having fostered hundreds of dogs over the course of 30 years. So we went to work to unchain Rudy’s brain now that his body was free. First, Rudy needed to learn all the nor- mal skills that puppies are typically taught from eight to 16 weeks. There was crate training, leash walking, house-training, and just simple play. Rudy didn’t under- stand toys or how to play with others of his kind. But he had good teachers not only In Rudy’s new location, he learns to play with Radar. Photo by Nancy Gallimore.