A Case Study in PTSD in Dogs
A non-peer-reviewed, amateur observation of rescue dog behavior. Or, just a nice story about our pups.
Meet Justin.
Justin is a Labrador Retriever mix, likely with some Italian Greyhound. He is 5 years old; his muzzle is starting to grey. He is mostly tan, with white markings, brown floppy ears, and big brown eyes. He loves to run, chew on ropes, and snuggle. He is incredibly soft and handsome. And he was scheduled to be euthanized in November 2015.
Justin had a rough puppyhood. A Good Samaritan reported animal abuse occurring in a home in Boone County, West Virginia. The pound picked up a young, traumatized Justin on November 18, 2015. He refused to eat and cowered at every move. He was not aggressive, just scared.
He was wasting away, a scant 30lb. of shivering pup in need of serious help. Deemed “unadoptable,” he was to be put down. But the Boone Animal Rescue Coalition (BARC) knew he had a fighting shot. BARC administered medical treatment, and informed other shelters of his story. The Beaver County Humane Society (BCHS) outside of Pittsburgh offered to take him in. With the start of the new year, the newly-named Justin had won a second chance at life.
I was home on Winter Break after my first semester of college, eating dinner with my family. My mom shocked us all with an announcement: we were adopting a dog. In fact she had already picked one and put a hold on him until we could all meet him under supervision at the shelter. My mom and youngest sister are allergic, so this was a highly unexpected development. I was confused but absolutely thrilled. Apparently my mom had read Justin’s story online and knew we had to bring him home.
Once my sisters got home from school on January 9, we drove off to BCHS. A shelter employee directed us to a side room and instructed us to stay in our chairs or on the floor and move very slowly as she led Justin to each of us for introductions. I cried when I got to scritch him for the first time, sitting on that floor with a timid yet curious pup whom we would love for years to come. He sat on my lap on the ride home, both of us shaking with nervous energy.
Justin took an immediate liking to our couch, where we curled him up in a blanket. He slept through the night like that. But within a few days he began hiding. First it was under the coffee table in the living room, then the dining room table, then behind a chair. Eventually he went under my parents’ bed. When in each of these hiding spots, he refused to come out. We had to drag him to do his business outside, and we hand-fed him. It was heartbreaking to see just how hurt this pup was. Trainers were hardly helping, and we began to wonder if there was any hope for his recovery. By May we had exhausted our options, except one.
Meet Maggie
I got home from college and decided to find another dog. Not a replacement, but a mentor for Justin. We had been considering what one trainer had said: Justin doesn’t know how to be a dog, but he loves other dogs. Maybe an older, experienced friend could help him. My middle sister and I went to the shelter one afternoon in early June to scout for potential. We met with two great pups, but neither were what we needed.
We were about to go home when Meg the dark chocolate lab-pit bull mix came back to her pen after a walk. She looked at us with those big brown eyes, tail spinning around like a windmill. We smiled and I knew she was ours. When officially introduced to her, we were told she was recovering from surgery. An anonymous donor had paid $5000 to have 2 breast tumors removed. This pup was awesome.
We put a hold on “Meg” until we could bring Justin in for a controlled introduction the next day. They were instantly inseparable, running together in the shelter yard and licking each other’s face. I wish I could have witnessed it. On the drive home with our two dogs, my family decided on the name Maggie.
It’s been three and a half years since Maggie came home, and Justin is absolutely fine. It has not been easy, but trauma recovery never is. There have been many accidents and setbacks, though we worked through them all. There are unforeseen challenges ahead, and we will work through those too. We will never know what Justin suffered as a puppy — or what Maggie did in her first 5 years — but we do know how excellent the past 3 years have been, and how wonderful the future will be.
Please donate to your local Humane Society or non-kill shelter to help animals like Justin and Maggie find their forever homes.
You can see Maggie and Justin featured on the author’s Instagram and Twitter @vwegs
