"A lion, roaming through the a forest, trod upon a thorn. Soon afterward he came up to a shepherd and fawned upon him, wagging his tail as if to say, "I am suppliant, and seek your aid." The shepherd boldly examined the beast, discovered the thorn, and placing his paw upon his lap, pulled it out; thus relieved of his pain, the lion returned to the forest. Some time after, the shepherd, being imprisoned on a false accusation, was condemned "to be cast to the lions" as the punishment for his imputed crime. But when the lion was released from his cage, he recognized the shepherd as the man who healed him, and instead of attacking him, approached and placed his foot upon his lap. The king, as soon as he heard the tale, ordered the lion to be set free again in the forest, and the shepherd to be pardoned and restored to his friends" -Aesop's Fables (The Lion and the Shepherd)

"McCain (Chow Mix) can only be described as a 'bully.' He gets his name honestly: he has the same short temper and hotheadedness that most Irish men are known for. It also seems a befitting name because technically, you can translate his name as 'son of Cain'. For those who went to church or Sunday School know that Cain was considered 'the wicked one' (wicked is a little severe but you do get the idea) As a human, he is the cool guy in school; catching a smoke in the boys bathroom and if you meet him in a deserted hallway 9xs out of 10 he will pin you down, give you a wedgie and steal your lunch money. However, it is that 1 time when he doesn't, you can tell that he really has a heart of gold and he just can't control his impulses..."

DON'T JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER!!! This is a belief that we are taught and should be applied throughout our lives: from childhood to adulthood. I did this (judged a book by its cover) on the day that I met McCain. I now berate myself everyday for doing such a thing. I wrote the above paragraph as an entry in my "camp counselor's" journal. It is here that I record and evaluate the progress of my "kids." Looking back on what I wrote, many months ago, about McCain I have to literally laugh at myself and my naivety. What strikes me as the most amusing is how I bought into the notion and heeded all the warnings others gave me in regards to McCain without so much as giving an inkling of consideration for what McCain had to say to defend himself. Yes, he is a little wild and a touch unpredictable. I was even told that he was aggressive and that he was on probation for nipping at someone. However, the more "one on one" time I spent with him, I came to realize that he kinda got a bum rap. He was simply not raised properly and thus has developed some bad manners. I feel that if/when he is given the opportunities to learn how to behave in certain social settings with daily etiquette training and obedience he will become a better, more confident dog. He quickly became my biggest project. I have invested a larger portion of my time with him than I do with the other dogs. Mainly, because he needs it.
In the beginning, I would go to great lengths to avoid contact - especially eye contact with him. Particularly this applied to when it was his turn for playtime (a time for freely frolicking in the open field). The most effective method that I came up with (aside from opening his door and hiding - ludicrous, I'm embarrassed to admit but I tried it) was to leave a Hanzel and Gretel type of treat trail. This was all well and good until (cue the doom music - duhn duhn duuuuuuuhn) the day I released the "beast" and forgot his treats!!! OH NO!! I panicked - my heart froze and blood rushed to the pit of my stomach like fire ants and formed a knot. Trying to not draw his attention (for he had become accustom to our previous routine of "find the treat trail" and was dutifully sniffing the ground in search) I examined every inch of my pockets in hopes of finding a morsel, a crumb, anything! I discovered that the only thing that I had was a tennis ball. He noticed it the second I pulled it from my pocket and charged my way - surely I was going to be pounced upon and savagely torn to pieces... Instead, he stopped just short of me, sat down (all the while wagging his tail) and cocked his head. He looked at me then the ball and I swear he smiled as if to say "You wanna play?? Really, with me?!?!? Hooray!" So, I threw the ball. He fetched it; brought it right back to me and dropped it at my feet. This went on for several minutes until he tired of the new sport and went for his daily run. I was so excited! What a turn of events - I now saw him in a new light. He is a dog and not only that, he is a semi-sweet, not so terrifying dog who likes to play fetch! So now we have a new routine. Our trust in each other grew shakily but steady over time. I eventually patted him on the head, then touched him from his nose all the way down his back to the tip of his tail. We got to the point that I was not scared when he leaned on me or abruptly turned his head because he did not like the spot I was touching. He was finicky that way. He longed for attention and to be caressed. He would sigh when I messaged his back but would get thoroughly agitated if I got near his rump or ears. Why? When it comes to dog training, books, other trainers and experts they all tell you to always ask yourself why. So I took my simple petting another step further and did a quick examine (as much as he would tolerate). I discovered several large mats on his backside, behind his ears, between his toes and on his belly. You have to understand McCain is a majestic, elegant dog with long flowing hair much like the aforementioned lion at the beginning of this tale so it was very tough to spot these mats by just glancing him over. Therefore, that coupled with the fact that he built up his tough guy persona no one was able to detect the uncomfortable dreadlocks that were being created until it got to the point where it was impossible to make any type of physical contact with him. It was a vicious cycle until he met me. We finally trusted each other enough that I was no longer frightened, although very cautious, when I decided to detangle him. I was armed with a pair of scissors (I know - such a no no to cut out mats but I truly had no other option), a brush and enough treats (ranging from bacon to peanut butter) to feed an entire pride of lions. Spying my strange equipment, he was timid as he approached me. I let him sniff everything. I began brushing him at a painstakingly slow pace for I didn't want to startle or hurt him and lose his faith. I was shocked when he laid down and rolled on his back, exposing the smallest of the mats as if he understood what I was doing. I confirmed this by snipping away those little pests he responded by licking my face (a first for both of us, I was in Heaven!!!). His larger mats were more of a challenge but we were able to work them out - literally! Now in addition to his daily walks I brush him and he LOVES it. I think that he looks forward to it as much as he does being fed. He will set his front paws and head in my lap, gaze at me and smile that smile he gave me the first time I realized that he was not a ferocious beast but just a dog. A compassionate, gracious, loving being.

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Intro:Welcome to My Dog Eat Dog World

I moved to Ocean City 4 years ago and as a college graduate with a degree in Sociology, living in a resort town, I assumed that I was doomed to a career as a bartender. Don't get me wrong, the money was good but, the people typically were not. After studying "people" in college for 4 years then serving them for more years then I care to count in the food and beverage industry, it dawned on me: I don't like folks much.

So one rainy night, after a particularly obnoxious group of golfers finally left me in peace, just as I was about to close up (which is usually the case) a man shuffles in. He promised not to keep me long as he was just having a night cap before turning in. He let me clean around him, didn't even mind that I put the stools up. He'd make a comment every once in a while about the game on t.v. and I'd mumble a response. When it came time to pay his tab (I kid you not, it was just like a scene in a movie) he touched my hand and commented that I had the saddest eyes that he had seen in a long time. I was already feeling so haggard from being put through the ringer by the previous gaggle of men that his simple, quiet notation almost put me in tears. Then he asked me what it was that I loved. The answer was simple: My dogs. I LOVE hanging out watching movies with them, going for walks, dancing in the kitchen while singing terribly off key (which I'm pretty sure they enjoy) while I wash the dishes...Every time I tried to think of something I love, they were there beside me egging me on licking my face and vying for my attention. "There's your answer, sad eyes" the man said with a wink as he strode away.

There's my answer?!?! I thought to myself. This plagued me for quite some time. Certainly, try as I might, I couldn't make a living hanging out with my dogs. So I did the next best thing. After enrolling in school once again - this time to study animal behavior and training -I did some research and came across our local humane society (Worcester County Humane Society - thankfully they're No Kill). I immediately decided to volunteer. The first few visits were rocky and overwhelming but, I continued to go. I made a point to spend more quality one on one time with each dog - learning about them and their personalities. Our bonds grew with leaps and bounds. I felt even more motivated to educate myself (Iused my library card more than most people use their credit cards) on what makes these guys tick so that I could help them, encourage them and improve their lives until they found their "forever homes."

However, as any dog owner knows, now I have stories (so, so, so many -how they make me laugh from my very depths to how I get so frustrated that I want to cry) about not only my dogs at home but now, 40 or so additional dogs at the shelter. I started to notice that when I talked to my family and friends their eyes would glaze over and I would realize that I had been going on and on and on for (what seemed to me like minutes) an hour about "the dogs."

So I thought to myself, how can this be avoided? I could write in a journal - boring and besides what am I a Preteen little girl? No thank you. How about bloggin? Hmmm...this way I would be able to purge myself of all these great happenings to the delight of someone else with out having them stare off into space. Hopefully, I'll be able to reach out to other dog owners who truly understand how the world can be so different with a four legged buddy by your side.

Fear Not My Friends!!! This is not woebegone tales of the "poor shelter dogs." Rather, it will be highlights of how well they are doing with training, or how they delight me with a new trick or better yet, when I'm elated at an adoption. It's my hope that I can stay in contact with new owners so that I can pass that information along. Under my profile the website that I listed links you to the Worcester County Humane Society, this way you can look up and see some photos of the characters (with their sweet silly faces) that I'm writing about. At the top of the page are photos of my 2 loony tunes (P.J. and Braun), my inspiration.

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