From the Styx by Peggy Tibbetts

In my last post I wrote: “To take Venus hiking up in the mountains and then control her on a leash so she won’t chase deer would only feed her anxiety. We have to let her run wild in spite of the risk. She returns home exhausted but calm, happy, and content.” Those words haunted me as I packed up to go camping for the weekend.

From Thanksgiving last year to the first weekend in April we took the dogs cross-country skiing nearly every weekend, which gave Venus the opportunity to run wild. The first weekend in May we took them to Moab, another weekend of running wild. Then from May 4 to June 15, we stayed home to work on the house and yard so we could spend more time camping this summer. No cross country skiing, no camping, no mountain hikes. No running wild. During those 6 weeks Venus became increasingly anxious. By the time we took the dogs to Lake Powell, Venus was already anxious and obsessive. Even though she had plenty of opportunities to run wild at the lake, instead she obsessed over the lizards. She wore herself out but she didn’t calm her anxiety. She did not return home “calm, happy and content.” She attacked Zeus the next day.

A similar pattern occurred last year during late summer and fall. We stopped camping in the mountains after August 16. During our trip to Wisconsin the dogs had to be leashed or tied. Venus attacked Zeus at Donna’s house, which was interesting. Donna lives on a lake surrounded by woods but we didn’t let Venus run wild and explore those woods. Although after the attack, Donna and I took her down the lake. I let her off leash so she could run around crazy and swim. We tired her out and she was much calmer for the rest of our trip – until we got home.

Her anxiety increased through the fall. We usually don’t take many camping trips in the fall and we avoid hiking in the mountains because of hunters. And for good reason. Last fall a dog was shot and killed by a hunter on a public hiking trail near Edwards. In years past we’ve taken fall camping trips to Moab or Lake Powell. But the price of gas kept us at home, which meant Venus had no opportunities to run wild. On top of that, we believe the Bullys were harassing her.

In November shortly after we increased the Clomipramine to 75 mg, we started cross-country skiing again. Her anxiety decreased and she remained calm through the winter and spring. This summer after we increased her dosage to 100 mg, her anxiety noticeably decreased after our camping trip to Meadow Lake before the 4th.

I think I’ve stumbled on a key piece of the Venus puzzle. 

We took our granddaughter Hailey and the dogs camping at Meadow Lake last weekend. Hailey is a good stabilizer for Venus and Zeus. They both have enormous affection for her, but no jealousy. On outings, Zeus is her companion and Venus guards them both. They have always exhibited their best behavior around Hailey.

On the drive up Friday morning Tod talked about his plan to start jogging with Venus to increase her exercise.

“I don’t think it’ll make any difference,” I said. “I do think Venus needs more exercise. But not the jogging or treadmill kind. She needs to run wild. In the mountains.” Then I explained my theory about the similar patterns in her meltdowns last fall and spring. “Look at how much she has calmed down over the past 4 weeks and look at what we’ve been doing – camping and hiking in the mountains.”

“I think you might be onto something,” he said.

When we arrived at Meadow Lake we were confronted with a small problem that grew into a giant hassle. The Western Colorado Council BSA was holding a Merit Badge Rally on the opposite ridge from our campground. We’ve encountered Boy Scout rallies up there before but this year was radically different.

As we set up camp, rifle shots echoed across the meadow from the Boy Scout encampment. Zeus immediately retreated to the backseat of the pickup. I gave him PetCalm.

Tod-the-Eagle-Scout explained, “There’s a badge that requires rifle shooting. They probably have a shooting range up there and they’re working on that badge this morning. Maybe this afternoon the shooting will stop.”

But it didn’t. After lunch Tod took Venus on an hour-long bike ride. She had a swell time running wild through Meadow Ridge.

Venus doing what she loves best

Meanwhile Hailey and I coaxed Zeus out of the pickup with the promise of a walk down to “Snack Lake”.

Plee-ase Zeus, won't you come with us to Snack Lake?

Zeus loves that lake so he braved the non-stop gunshots and high-tailed it down to the shore. He even showed us a quicker way to get there. For some reason he felt safe near the lake but his satellite dish ears twitched the whole time and he kept his eye on that ridge. All things considered Hailey and I were impressed with his behavior. He was nervous but not anxious. He even played with us and snacked on fish heads. But he beat us back to our campsite and demanded to be let in the pickup. I knew Venus and Tod would return soon and the dogs would have to be separated anyway so I let him hide.

The shooting continued through the afternoon and evening. We persuaded Zeus to join all of us on a lake walk after supper. He braved the gunshots once again. We ordered Venus to leave him alone and she did. By 8:00 pm the non-stop shooting had frazzled everyone’s nerves. I was in tears. I wondered if we should pack up and go home. I hated the thought of disappointing Hailey and Venus needed her wild time. But Zeus stayed holed up the pickup.

Tod-the-Eagle-Scout said, “I rode my bike up there earlier to see what’s going on. They made a huge rifle range with targets so they’re shooting into the hillside. I expected to see a bunch of kids learning how to shoot rifles but all I saw was a bunch of grown men playing with guns. We didn’t go on shooting sprees like that when I was a Scout. The whole thing strikes me as pretty rude.”

“But it’s not just this weekend,” I said. “Last winter almost every time we went cross-country skiing we heard gunshots. It’s like the latest craze is biathlon on snowmobiles. When we were camping on Gemini Bridges Road in Moab we heard gunshots. That’s never happened before. And last Saturday was the first time we’ve ever heard gunshots on the Beaver Creek Trail. What’s with all the goddamn shooting?”

Tod shook his head. “I don’t know. But you’re right. It does seem like everywhere we go lately we’re dealing with gunshots. And this Boy Scout thing is way over the top. I wouldn’t want my kid involved in anything like that.”

Even fireworks season has lasted longer this year. The July 4th weekend was normal but the firecrackers and cherry bombs started earlier and are lasting longer than ever before. We’re still hearing them at night. One evening last week while we were walking the dogs some guy threw a firecracker out of his vehicle as he passed us. Zeus reared up and freaked out right in the middle of the street. It took me 15 minutes to calm him down while our dinner burned on the stove. We were too busy dealing with anxious dogs to get his license plate number.

What the hell is wrong with people?

After dark Friday night the shooting stopped and Hailey coaxed Zeus out of his den. He slept in the tent that night with her. “He’s my protector,” she said. How true.

Hailey loves her little tent

We enjoyed a blissfully quiet Saturday morning until 9:00 am. Then the shooting started up again and continued non-stop all day and into the evening. Tod took off with Venus on a bike ride in the morning. Hailey and I charmed Zeus into another lake walk. Saturday afternoon Tod went biking again. Hailey and I sought refuge from the biting flies and read in the camper. Exhausted from her morning run, Venus slept under the camper. She was tied. And Zeus hid out from the still raging gunfire in the pickup.

A woman on a 4-wheeler passed on the road. Her black Lab mix jumped off the back and tore through our campsite. Venus strained at the end of her tie out barking wildly. I slipped into my shoes. The woman hopped off her vehicle and chased her dog. I thought, “Sure hope it’s that dog’s lucky day and Venus doesn’t tear him to pieces.”

By the time I walked out the door I was considering all the legal angles. Her unleashed dog invaded our campsite and if our leashed dog attacked him then technically we wouldn’t be at fault if she injured him. Right then her dog scooted under the camper toward Venus. Teeth barred and jaws snapping, she lunged for him – and missed. He ran back to the road. I let out a sigh of relief. The embarrassed woman apologized repeatedly.
 
I waved her off. “It’s okay. Nobody got hurt.”

Venus guards our campsite from unruly intruders

Zeus stayed in the tent that night with Hailey. Around 4:00 am somebody either fired gunshots or lit cherry bombs. Zeus tried to crawl in Hailey’s sleeping bag.

“He was really scared,” Hailey told us as she snuggled up on the table bed inside the camper. “But it was really funny. I mean, it’s not like he could even fit in there. But he hogged the whole air mattress so I had to come in here.”

Tod went outside to check on him and another gunshot or cherry bomb exploded so he put Zeus back in the pickup.

Thanks for the camping-trip-from-hell Boy Scouts of America.

On Sunday morning after breakfast we hiked along the lakeshore trail. On the way back we met up with three horseback riders taking a break. Two men sprawled on the grass and a woman perched on the log parking barrier. We leashed the dogs because of the horses, although they were grazing several feet away under some pine trees. We said “howdy.” They had an older Shepherd mix with them. He rushed up to Venus.

The woman pointed at Venus. “She’s Akbash.”

I stopped in my tracks. “Yeah. You know Akbash?”

She nodded. “I know lots of Akbash. I have one. At home. He’s nine. A real sweetie. But he wasn’t always that way.”

We immediately engaged in Akbash speak.

“Akbash dogs are nearly impossible to train. And hard to live with. A friend of mine had to put their Akbash down. Whatever made you get an Akbash?” she asked.

“Her previous owner told us she was part Pyrenees,” I said. “Our friends used to have an Akbash and they’ve always said she looks exactly like him. Then last summer we saw some actual Akbash dogs guarding sheep up here and then we knew.”

“Wow. So you had no clue what you were getting into?” she asked.

“None,” I said. “We didn’t even know what an Akbash was.”

“A-mazing.” She shook her head. “So how’s it going with her? She seems pretty mellow.”

I sighed. “She’s heavily medicated.” Then I told her all about Venus’s CCD and aggression toward Zeus. “I think I finally figured out something about her. I mean not just her but Akbash in general. They need to run wild. She needs to run wild. When we bring her up in the mountains she’s always at her best. When we take her cross country skiing or biking or hiking in the mountains she always takes off on her own. But she always comes back. Then she goes home exhausted and content.”

As I said all that the woman kept nodding.

“I’m right aren’t I?” I said.

“Yup. Right on,” she said. “I live in the country on two acres. My Akbash takes off all the time. And he always comes back exhausted and happy. He used to have aggression problems until I realized I had to let him go. I used to worry he’d get shot but hey, if that happens at least he’ll die happy.”

I almost started crying. She had confirmed my theory. “We have a big yard and she gets lots of walks but it’s just not enough,” I said. 

She shrugged. “It’s their nature. They’re like wild dogs. This dog here.” She pointed to the Shepherd mix. “He’s half coyote, half German Shepherd and he’s the same way.”

I could have hugged her – almost did. I could have spoken Akbash with her all morning but we had to break camp and head home early because Tod headed off to Chicago on Monday.

On the drive home I got to thinking that Venus’s mental health would probably improve if she lived in the country. So would mine.

We moved to Silt from the country, actually 2 acres in the north woods near Lake Superior, 5 miles from Duluth, MN. It was a difficult transition. I didn’t miss the Minnesota winters but I definitely yearned for my secluded 2 acres.

For many years we had Kay Larson’s ranch a block away. But that’s all gone now, replaced a couple years ago with the new school. Hasn’t been the same since. I love the new school. But I miss the ranch more, and my “adopted” horses, Beggar and Annie. Our end of town – old Silt – used to feel like the country. Now it feels like I’m surrounded by subdivisions and dealing with assholes.

Maybe that’s what Venus came here to teach me. I need to get back to the country. However change like that doesn’t happen overnight. In the meantime I need to spend more time running wild in the mountains with my dogs. If we get shot, hey at least we’ll die happy.

Read the Crazy Bitch series. Or click on the handy links provided on the left.

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