Reply
Fri 27 Jun, 2003 05:20 pm
I am, in general, immune to the pain of contemplating vast suffering, large-scale injustice. This is not to say that I do not comprehend and condemn it, simply that I am able to emotionally insulate myself from it. Very likely, this is a result of three years in the army medical corps, an experience which required me to set aside such feelings in order to be effective in the duties I was expected to perform. I perhaps invite condemnation for an ?'unfeeling" attitude, but can accept that.
When I was very small, still just a liddley, I was chasing a rabbit in the back yard (my recollection of the event, viewed from this end, suggests the rabbit was a juvenile as well). My grandfather stopped me, with the minatory observation that the rabbit might literally be scared to death. Whether or not it arises from living in the country, small children such as I was then have a very good conception of the meaning of death as the cessation of being. I was horrified. Many years later, while in adolescence, I was cutting corn out of the beans to earn some spending money, and captured a ground squirrel in one of the fields. When I got home, I took my captive out to contemplate my wonderful new acquisition, when, holding the critter in my hand, feeling its trembling and the pounding of its miniature heart, as it attacked my thumb to no purpose, I was horrified. I immediately took the ground squirrel to a nearby field of clover and released it. I was depressed for a while at the thought of what I had done.
Which brings me to Miss Cleo. In looking at my "avatar," you see a picture of my Lovey's canine friend and companion, Miss Cleo. Miss Cleo is a "rescue dog." She was between two and three years of age when Lovey took Cleo to join her household. She had spent the most of her life to that point in a basement, alone. And the lovely, laughing Miss Cleo has a dark, dark fear--thunderstorms. She becomes terrified to the point of trembling, she hides under the bed, she loses control of her bladder and urinates uncontrollably. When you consider this product of a casual, unthinking cruelty, it is easily explained. Her previous experience in life of thunderstorms was very likely an unnerving terror of the loud cracks and rumbles, which could rattle the panes of the basement windows, and cause the very earth to shake; the sudden, terrifying flashes of light--all of the terrifying drama of a threatening force from which there was surely no defense--which, being alone, she was unable to put in proportion, because she had no one else to turn to for comfort and protection, no one else's calm, fearless assurance to teach her that her fear was groundless. And I ache for her at the thought. My reaction to her reaction is sheer, undiluted horror . . .
The heart is such a very arcane landscape, but imperfectly glimpsed through the mists which always arise there, from causes unknown and unknowable . . .
Poor baby. Have you tried doggy tranquilizers? I understand that with medication and a lot of love dogs can overcome this fear. I know Miss Cleo gets plenty of love.
Aw man, yer breakin' me up here Set, seriously....holy cow...there are several approaches to treating extreme anxiety in dogs, some helpful, some just plain weird. Here is one link that covers a few of the more popular treatments. It is for Golden Retrievers, but all dogs with storm anxiety have the same symptoms:
http://oldgoldrescue.net/storm.html
I am going to go feed and hug my dog now.....
I suppose i ought to have posted this in the Pets forum, but it is, for me, at any rate, less about the dog, for whom i have no fears that she will be well cared for and sheltered as much as possible from her fears . . . rather, the thread, which i was unable to place in the categories available, is intended to concern the subject of the final line . . .
Ahem . . .
Setanta wrote:The heart is such a very arcane landscape, but imperfectly glimpsed through the mists which always arise there, from causes unknown and unknowable . . .
ok is it HP Lovecraft? if it aint, it oughta be.
Doggie tranks. a little diazapem. about 2mg per 10 lb will knock them into a goofy , almost comical high. my main dog is very fulguraphobic.
We used to slip him some valium and he got very melloow. Of course, when hes comin down , he gets really bitchy. so do the trank thing just to get her over the fear, and, eventually shell lose her hysteria.
You say she was a rescue dog/ what'd she rescue, the fuzzy toys and slippers?
No, it ain't Lovecraft, it's Kelly . . .
Geeze, maybe a kind moderator will come move this to pets and gardening, and put everyone out of my misery . . .
I am still pondering.....that last statement brings up so many things, it seems I can only ask more questions. I can't decide whether philosophy and debate or relationships might serve the story better....I will come back to this after some thought.
You mean the drawer of POGO?
LOL! I think I get you , Setanta.
The thing is, when this sort of discussion arises, I always shrink - because I have a terrible secret - I am, somehow, generally able to shield myself from human pain and suffering - but never from that of animals, and I think there is something really, really wrong with that.
I assume it has something to do with how I would be distraught for days, inconsoleably, if I became aware of human suffering as a kid - and I blocked it out to some extent. Still do, because I deal with it every day, and it is not helpful to become overwhelmed - but I do speculate a lot, and try to understand the feelings, or heart if you will, of people who perpetrate abuse, for instance - not least because this is what children ask all the time - how could s/he do it? Why did he do it?
My best understanding has come through studies in infant mental health, which seeks to unravel how we become human, emotionally, mentally and physically. Oh, and listening, of course.
I am imagining what might have led to the terrible lack of empathy of the owner from whom Miss Cleo was rescued - and I cannot help but see the dark cellar and storms as a metaphor for their emotions, for, as we know, empathy grows from being empathised with - or sometimes, incredibly, seemingly without this, it grows anyway.
Heart of Darkness stuff, eh?
Indeed, a good way to put it . . .
(Been hangin' out with Canajuns, eh?)
farmerman wrote:You mean the drawer of POGO?
No . . . i mean me . . .
Rae, if i have been correctly informed, Florida has more thunderstorms and lightening strikes than any other area on Earth . . . poor Miss Cleo could never live there . . .
So, you can imagine my Maggie's fears, Setanta!
it takes some time and care but, like any learned response, a dog can overcome the fear of thunder. All it takes is some coaching and , the drug may be of assistance if youve inadvertently reinforced the puppys response. i train border collies and they are among the most sensitive to sharp sounds . They can be taught to overcome their specific fright reaction. My father had a kennel in which he raised and trained Irish setters for hunting. he would get many a dog that was gun shy. The shyness was a reinforced response in which the master becomes an unwitting enabler. Some owners would sit the dog on a spot with a short handling leash and fire shells over their heads. This is the wrong thing to do.
It sounds stupid but Ernie, my main dog, would run under a bed at the sound of approaching thunder, so Id crawl under there with him armed with all kinds of toys and crap. At first wed give him a downer and play with him in his refuge. After a while he realized that storms were a source of fun. now hes indifferent to storms but hell go and bring a squeaky toy and we have to carry on. Fortunately others in the family can carry out this duty in my frequent absence.
Even if your dogs an elder , she can be trained to exchange her fear for something else.
still sounds like Lovecraft
now, the only question is, and I mean this in all sincerity. Can you fit under a bed with your dog ?
Well, prolly can fit under Lovey's bed, just won't be able to move around once i get there . . .
We have a storm coming up here soon....or so it looks. We are lucky. Austin is pretty good with the storms, but not entirely happy, that's for sure. When we went to look at the Cavalier King Charles puppies (yes, that's where the name comes from, not caviar) the one we currently own was so curious to meet new people, he got his head stuck in the grate closing off the puppy room from the adult dogs and let out a yelp/scream like nothing we had ever heard. The breeder, an exceptionally sensitive lady (everything in the house was Cavalier themed), yelled almost as loud as the dog....they successfully released our pup from the grate....at that time we did not have our minds made up, but the breeder said to Mrs. cav, "if you could just hold him for a bit, he's really shaken up." We were sold. Funny thing is, it wasn't even her pup (at least, not one she had bred herself), she just knew it needed the attention. We took him anyhow, how could we not? I didn't grow up with dogs. I had rodents and fish, but c'mon. Austin is my first dog, and I do believe that everything I currently know about unconditional love I have learned from this friggin dog. One thing I have heard about training a dog out of fear is that coddling is a no-no. Diversion works better apparently. Our guy used to be afraid of other dogs, but we let him sort it out with happy encouragement, despite our breaking hearts at seeing his fear. Now he is all "I'm in your face and happy about it!" even with dogs 1000 times his size. Hope things work out....the tragedy of human existence will never never tear me up as much as the tragedy of animal existence. I ramble, so I shall stop here....
cavfancier wrote:. . . the tragedy of human existence will never never tear me up as much as the tragedy of animal existence. I ramble, so I shall stop here....
Bingo . . . second poster got it . . . kinda . . .
Well, adult human against adult human is a fair fight. To take it out on an animal (or a child) that only has love in their heart is wrong to the point of being a capital offence, IMO. I am pretty mutable, but this is one issue that I dig my heels in over.
I've known those i'd like to personally execute over such an issue--probably the one instance in which i'd favor capital punishment . . .
Stumble It!
Tweet This
Bookmark on Delicious
Share on Facebook
Share on MySpace