First, we have a wonderful new facility to work out of. This is going to work SO much better for us and for the dogs. The reason for the move, at first, seemed like a bad thing. We were looking into renewing our lease very soon and were informed that if we resigned the rent was going to be higher and sadly, we couldn't afford much more than we were already paying. Our pay was dropping substantially due to redeployment and there were bills that had to be paid before Rob left the Army which would add to the financial burden. I started to worry where we would be able to go with, literally, a pack of dogs (most of which have a history of aggression or are deemed a 'dangerous' breed) and three horses. Not many landlords would be eager to take that load, or liability, on. I was worried, nervous and maybe even a little scared. What were we going to do? Then, the thought came to me....you can always go home. As much as I loathed that thought (as anyone over the age of 18 often does lol) the idea started to grow on me. It seemed perfect. Having my mother as our 'landlord' would be trying to say the least (love you mom lol) however, I had a whole facility that would be PERFECT for the dogs sitting empty and unused. The landlords agreed to let us out of our lease early and then I was faced with the one thing I forgot to consider in my plan....the cost, and logistics, of a move that size. I didn't know how we were going to afford it, nor did I know how we would find the time and make the transition easy on all of the dogs, but I forged ahead to take the opportunity before me. I won't pretend that this move has been easy, either emotionally or financially (almost $50 for each trip we have to make with a load of stuff and there have been many) but I felt like realistically, it was the best option. I'm still a bit worried and stressed out, but who isn't during a move or a time of change? However, instead of looking at the downside, we have to look at the positives. Had all of the 'bad' things not occurred we wouldn't have the opportunity that we do now which is to expand the horizons for RRR. I could have chosen to be sad, depressed or given up, but instead I tried to look at this in a positive light and then I started seeing it for exactly what it was...a blessing in disguise. After finally getting mostly everything organized today I couldn't ask for a better place to continue the work for RRR. Of course, a lot of work still lies ahead. We have to reregister all of our paperwork in Tennessee, continue working on our 501c paperwork, improving the facilities the best we can for the dogs, etc. However, I have faith that somehow, it will all come together.
That brings me to the next subject I want to talk about tonight and that is what we can learn from the dogs in the program. I have had so many wonderful compliments recently about the work I am trying to do with the dogs. I appreciate all of them and it humbles me to know that there are people who are inspired by and who appreciate my work. I am in no way special, I don't have any unique abilities, I am just one person doing the best I can do with the knowledge I've gained over years of working with animals with 'problems'. No dog, or person, here is perfect. We all fall down, we all make mistakes, we all have our faults and we all learn from each other on a daily basis. In that light, I want to share a story here that many might not think it's 'okay' to share and I've thought long and hard about sharing it and have decided I think I should. I'll let everyone decide the lesson they can gain from it on their own, as I have.
About a week ago now, we took in a brown and white pit bull from Jackson Rabies Control. She came in two days after Faith, the white, emaciated pit from the same location. Everyone's first thought had been that the brown and white pit, who is named Hope, had been a bait dog. I never really questioned that thought as her demeanor seemed to go along with that theory. Hope has been a big undertaking and has tested my skills a lot already and I know she will continue to do so as long as she is here (which may be for the rest of her life). She is withdrawn, fearful and has a look in her eyes I've seen many times in troubled horses, troubled people and troubled dogs, though I can only recall one time when I've seen it with such intensity as I do with Hope. It's a look of someone who has been through a lot, who is stuck in their bad memories, who doesn't know how to find a way out of the darkness that they are living in. I think there have also been a few times in my life that I've had that look as well, so to say the least, I know where she is coming from. I also understand that we're not supposed to 'humanize' dogs. That they 'live in the moment' and that what they do is simply a learned behavior, what is instinctual or what is a conditioned response. While on some level, I agree, on another I do not. I have seen too much working with troubled animals to believe that to be entirely true. I do think that dogs have emotion, I do believe they sense ours and I do believe, that for some, overcoming their past is a very hard thing to do. Anyhow, that all being said, brings me to this part of the story. In the time that Hope has been with us she has had a very slow road. Every step forward seems to be followed by three steps back. She will only come out of her shell momentarily and then retreat back in further than before. I also know that it will be this way for a while.
A day into our move, things seemed to be turning around. She'd been socializing well with the other dogs, even playing with some chew toys and seemed to be more happy to be around us all and enjoying our company. She had shown NO signs of dog aggression or human aggression. We were getting ready to move a load of furniture and there were three dogs that were staying in the house, Sasha (one of the German Shepherds in our personal 'pack'), AJ (a husky/whippet mix that is waiting for his forever family) and Hope. They had been together for 24 hours and not so much as one problem had come about between the three. Not wanting to leave them in their crates because we would be gone for at least three hours, we left the three of them loose. I realize now, that letting my guard down in this way was a mistake, but one I have learned from.
When we arrived home, the scene that greeted us was upsetting to say the least. In one corner sat a beat up looking AJ with Sasha guarding him and in the other was a very beat up looking Hope. We quickly rushed to make sure all wounds were merely superficial (which thankfully they were) and then started trying to piece together what had happened. Judging by the dogs reactions to each other, the marks and Sasha's behavior with AJ we could only come to one conclusion...Hope had started to attack AJ and Sasha intervened. We had seen Sasha 'break up' dogs who were getting a little too rough before but had never expected that she would do it when it counted most. Sasha, who is a very happy go lucky and slightly doofy (for lack of a better term) dog, we had always joked was too aloof to be much of anything but a companion and her lack of drive definitely didn't make her cut out for anything more. We couldn't have been more wrong. Sasha, in essence, had saved AJ's life. The best we can figure is that Sasha, being a taller dog, had come from behind Hope and pulled her off of AJ before any real damage could be done. Hope had gone at Sasha but wasn't able to do much damage. Now of course, we'll never know exactly how the scene played out but that is the best we can piece together. Sasha has always been a 'guardian' of the smaller dogs and definitely showed her ability to protect them, even if it meant risking her well being, that night. The true mark of a German Shepherd. That all being said, I don't blame Hope, or Sasha or AJ for what happened and thankfully no one was hurt.
This incident spurred me to consult with a friend of mine who is accustomed to working with Pit Bulls who have been fought or used as bait dogs and to get his opinion on Hope. From what he can tell (her teeth, scars, that she has obviously been bred before, the fact that she is scared to eat from a bowl but is fine with eating from someones hand) his estimation is that Hope was not in fact a bait dog, but a fight dog who was probably trained to attack smaller, and weaker dogs but was not 'built right' to be a really efficient fight dog (hence why she was probably let go and picked up as a stray). Now, many people would be ready to give up hope for Hope and say that she can't be fixed, or saved. I don't believe that but I do believe that it will be a very long and rocky road ahead, and I do realize that she may very well have to live out the rest of her life at Raja Renata. I am willing to deal with those facts. And, I believe more than anything, she needs someone to show her a better way. I cannot hold her liable for what people have taught her or turned her into, she wasn't responsible for that, nor did she ask for it. The amazing part of it all, is that somewhere inside of her, I can see glimpses (even if only for a moment) of a very happy, playful and carefree soul who wants to come out. I see a dog who is wanting a leader and a friend (human and canine) and who has a chance, even if it's a small one, to live a life different than the one she has known til now. I also want to point out the benefits of having dogs in our program like Sasha who isn't a 'RRR' dog but part of our family as a whole. A good dog, who has never been trained to do a job but works off instinct that is balanced with a mentally stable attitude, is a blessing beyond measure. There are many dogs like this at RRR. They learn from each other, they each each other, they protect each other. Do I believe that Sasha wanted to hurt Hope? Of course not. As a matter of fact, they spent some time together today (the first reintroduction since the incident) and Sasha approached Hope in a calm manner, happily wagging her tail with all bad blood, so to speak, forgotten, just happy to try to make a friend. I wanted to add a photo of Sasha with AJ the night of the incident. She guarded him like this the entire night though Hope was crated. And no worries, he isn't covered up because he was hurt, we'd given him a bath to help us spot any injuries we could have missed because they would've been covered up by his fur, and he was keeping warm and 'hiding' under the moving blanket. I think this picture says a lot that I can't find the words to say about a dog who has a 'job', who is balanced, who knows the balance of the pack and her role in it and a dog who was simply doing what her breed has been bred to do for generations...be a gentle and fair protector of those she loves.
I don't know if I have ever spoken about why I chose the name 'Raja Renata' for the ranch. Essentially, it means 'Hope Reborn' and that I felt was a perfect statement for what we were trying to do for both canines and humans. But, there was also another reason. On December 26, 2009 I was in a car accident that almost took my life. I was on leave with my ex-husband who had just returned from a deployment and we were visiting his family in Pennsylvania. We were on our way to their hunting cabin when he overcorrected the car and the car slammed into a concrete jersey barrier at 65 MPH, spun and hit the barrier on the other side of the road. I was life flighted from the scene and underwent emergency surgery at Hershey Med Center where I then spent a week fighting to recover. I had lacerated my liver, 3 feet of small intestine had to be removed, I had a list that spanned a page of bones in my face that had been broken or fractured, bruised ribs, TBI and two days after surgery a collapsed lobe in my left lung. The whole time I was there, all I wanted was to go home but I also wanted something else and it all started with a man who was a patient on the same floor as me while I was in recovery. I was up walking 18 hours after surgery and I walked multiple times a day because until my intestines could function on their own, I wouldn't be allowed to leave and being mobile would help that. So I pushed through the pain and walked the floors as much as I could. One day, while I was lying in my bed taking a rest, an elderly gentleman knocked on my door. I was surprised to see another patient up and walking around because the nurse had informed me that the people in this ward usually did not leave. I greeted him and he greeted me and then he said something, that to this day, still brings tears to my eyes. He told me that he wanted to thank me. I asked him why because as far as I knew, I had done nothing special. He said he wanted to thank me because every day he watched me walk around the ward over and over again and I obviously was in a lot of pain but I kept going. He told me that it made him think, if she is out there doing it, then why can't I? And so, because of that, for the first time in a very long time, he had gotten up out of his bed to start walking and it had made him feel better. I can't remember my response to him but I still very clearly remember his face and the words that he said, and I think of him often. I wish I had even known his name. I wish that I could tell him thank you, because knowing that I helped someone feel even a little better in such a miserable place, inspires me in the strangest of moments.
After I returned home, against Doctors orders that I not travel, I sunk into a deep depression. I had scars in a million places so I hated the way I looked, I couldn't pick up or hold my son because of the pain I still had in so many parts of my body and because of the incision that was still healing, I couldn't even cook myself a meal. I'd had to quit my job, I couldn't spend much time with friends and leaving the house was too hard either emotionally or physically most days. I felt helpless and hopeless and I spent my days trying to sleep it all away. My ex, Mac, would ask me what it would take to get me off the couch and I honestly didn't have an answer for him. Until Buck. One day, one of my friends insisted that we go out and do something, anything and I finally agreed. We took a ride around Ft Campbell and I passed by the riding stables. I'd toyed with the idea of getting a new horse for a while and I decided to stop in to put my name on the wait list for boarding. As I was about to leave, a sign on the door caught my attention. It was a 'For Sale' ad for a little Appaloosa gelding for $150 and the ad warned he needed to go to an experienced owner only. I knew, to say the least, I fit that bill so I asked about the horse. 30 minutes later, I purchased him. That was the day that changed my life.
Buck was a tough horse. He'd been used as a trail horse by the post, had bucked off a man and broken his neck, had bucked off a lot of other people, and was overall the terror of the farm that everyone had become afraid of dealing with. However, Buck and I seemed to get along just fine. I called my Doctor the next morning and asked him if I could go riding (mind you, I still had staples in my stomach from surgery). He said, "I'm telling you no but I know you will anyway (can you tell he's known me for a while lol) so please just be careful and don't do anything stupid". I cleaned off my old saddle, lugged it to the car, convinced Mac and another friend to go with me and off I went. I refused help to saddle Buck or to climb on him and a few minutes later we were riding around the arena at a walk and a jog much to the amazement of the other riders, who asked if I'd drugged him. Buck never took a wrong step (the better I got, the more he tested lol) he never pulled on the bit or took off or bucked, just calmly carried me. He was the reason I started getting up in the morning, eager to go to the barn to spend time with my new friend. He reminded me how much a horse (or any animal for that matter) can do when it comes to helping heal a person. He inspired me to start training horses again and helping the ones that no one else wanted to fix. The first horse I rescued after Buck was a scraggly looking little Arabian who was underweight, not cared for and well on her way down a path that wasn't a good one. I named her 'Raja Renata'. By fixing not only Buck, but her, and the many after, my hope was reborn. When it came time to name the Ranch, I couldn't think of a better name than that. Every time I see a horse I helped to rehab (especially Raja Renata who is now the trail mount of a little girl who needed a horse to boost her confidence) or a dog I have helped, or even when I look in the mirror or at my scars, I am reminded that out of the darkness, hope can be reborn.
Until next time,
Nicole
