The Lucy Diaries: Love, Live & Let Go: Getting to Know You

My *usually immaculately clean and organized* apartment
in total chaos with pet supplies

When I last left off in my description of adoption day, Emily and I had just left the Petsmart with Lucy and a shopping cart FULL of supplies. I should probably note that I had virtually no supplies ready ahead of time--I hadn't wanted to buy a bed, crate, food, or other essentials until I knew the breed and size of the dog I would adopt. I had incorrectly assumed that there would be plenty of time between meeting my potential pet and bringing him/her home with me during which I could prepare my apartment, neighbors, car, and life. With only 3 hours between receipt of the "Your adoption application for Olive has been approved" and signing the adoption papers, Lucy's transition was especially chaotic.

Thank goodness for Emily

As we struggled to get from the store to my car, the reality of my newfound responsibility for this adorable, squirming, living creature--who was pulling aggressively on her leash--was setting in. I very quickly came to realize just how "separate" from me Lucy was--that I had very little control over her movement, pace, attention, and anxiety. She was darting out in front of the cart, running circles around our legs, and pulling on the leash. In the end, I left Emily and Lucy at the curb and brought the car around, feeling a surge of my own anxiety. You will note a theme in this post: I don't know how I would have made it through our first weekend without Emily there... how does anyone adopt a pet without a best friend to assist, support, reinforce, and calm their [both pet and new owner's] nerves? I think without her, Lucy and I would probably still be wandering around the Petsmart trying to find dog food and a crate.

Emily purchased Lucy her first dog toy:
Dino, a purple T-Rex!

Emily tried valiantly to get Lucy to understand the
concept of "toys" and fetch.

Lucy meets Becca. Check out that eye contact!
If there are multiple people in the room,
she goes back and forth between
them--just to check that everyone is okay.

After a quick stop to pick up lunch combined with a short walk, I had my first major insight/observation about Lucy: Perhaps the first thing ANYONE notices upon meeting her is just how loving, attentive, and people-oriented she is. In the shelter, in the Petsmart, or in my apartment, she is entirely focused on the people she is with. She wants nothing more than to gaze lovingly into your eyes or curl up in your lap or at your feet. In fact, my friend Becca commented that she'd never seen a dog who made better eye contact than Lucy, and everyone agrees she would make a wonderful therapy dog: affectionate, gentle, calm, cuddly. She is super responsive to feedback and VERY intelligent. By the end of her second day, we had taught her sit, stay, and not to beg while we were eating. It took very little correcting or "explaining"/demonstrating in order for her to understand the way things worked in her new home. This all changed the moment that we got outside-- and I mean literally THE MOMENT. It was like dealing with a totally different animal (pun intended).
Outside, it seemed that she could not have cared less about the people she was with. She was 110% focused on what was going on around her, frantically taking in each sound, smell, movement going on around her. Nothing I said or did could refocus her attention. It almost seemed like she was deaf and like I was invisible, which was incredibly frustrating. Even sticking a treat in front of her nose just resulted in her craning her neck to see around it. At first I excused this bizarre personality change to the fact that she was BRAND NEW to basically everything in her life: she'd never walked on a leash, probably had rarely ridden in a car, had certainly never met me or been to my apartment or neighborhood. But no, it was a pattern that persisted until about a week ago. We actually have photographic evidence of this strange phenomenon. Compare any picture of Lucy in a contained environment to Lucy outside.

Our attempt at a family portrait. Note that there is not even one photo where she is looking at me.

Walks after dark made these personality changes even more extreme, and "unfocused" became "skittish" and "reactive." Every sound, shadow, or car passing invariably led to Lucy lunging in the opposite direction, growling, or barking aggressively. Increased anxiety at night made sense to me given that she had been a stray, but the intensity of her fear was still troubling. When I found worms in her poop the next morning, I called the vet to schedule an appointment. I hoped that perhaps they would also be able to help me figure out how to help Lucy in this adjustment.

Our visit to the vet was a turning point in my understanding of the extent to which Lucy's past has left its mark on her world view. I told the vet what we know about her story: She had been found a stray, underweight, very pregnant, and infested with worms and fleas. Based on the fact that she had never been spayed and was found without dog tags, she was most likely purposely abandoned by her former family. Some guy found her, took her in, she had her puppies, and he brought all of them to a shelter. She was treated medically and then put in foster care until I adopted her. That is an insane amount of change, abandonment, and stress. It is a testament to Lucy's true character and personality that inside--when her sense of perceived threat is low--she is so trusting and loving and affectionate. The vet pointed out that all of the outside behaviors that I find frustrating are in fact the very behaviors that helped Lucy to survive on the streets: Her hyper-vigilance allowed her to avoid getting hit by a car, attacked by other dogs or animals, or taken by surprise. I added that of course her anxiety would be worse in the dark, when she is less able to see to monitor her surroundings. "Bad things happen at night," the vet reminded me. It was my job to teach Lucy that she had nothing to be afraid of anymore. That we would take care of each other, and that I would keep her safe.

I snuck a picture of Lucy during our dinner:
She easily understood that she needed
to settle down and let us eat without begging.

Of course, the most important thing that emerged that first weekend was not her Inside vs Outside personality. From the moment we brought her out into the world and into my apartment, it was obvious that I had struck gold in my quest to find an amazing dog. That realization continues to deepen and grow with every passing day. Her sensitivity, love, intelligence, fun-loving nature, and patience were abundantly clear. We also started to see some of her hilarious quirks. She loved "nesting," finding any blanket or pillow to build a place to curl up or sleep. She would literally cry with joy when we gave her an especially good treat. I thought maybe she wanted to bury it in the backyard, but no, she would just cry and cry and then settle down to eat it. She was obviously a care-taker, going to check on everyone in the house in turn, making sure they felt loved and included. She responded SUPER well to training and was patient as I fumbled around trying to get organized. And her cuddles and kisses made every morning and evening my new favorite times of the day.

Seriously, most patient dog. Emily and I dragged her
back to Petsmart to get a bed and made her
sit on about 20 of them. She had no idea
what we were doing, but waited patiently