Prozac Puppy’s Progress





QB bit me again today, after a long period of improved behavior.  I had been hoping that the Prozac was finally starting to take effect, but QB’s extreme behavior today told me otherwise, that he is still unable to maintain self-control under certain circumstances and therefore cannot be externally controlled.  When conditions he considers scary or threatening are present, he cannot stop himself from being aggressive.


Today, as we were finishing our jaunt, rounding Lexington Street, QB spotted a stimulus, and began to bark and pull on the leash.  I assumed he was barking at the middle-aged gentleman ambling toward us on the sidewalk, dressed in a white t-shirt and painter’s pants, but it was not this man, it was something further along.  Was it a squirrel?  A Halloween decoration in someone’s yard?  Neither of the above.  Today’s big bad threat was an Evil Orange Traffic Cone.  There seems no rhyme or reason to what QB considers The Enemy, but traffic cones are among the most Evil of them. 


QB snarled, jumped, snapped at the cone, and jumped around some more.  I considered turning away down a side street, but there were none that led to my building.  I assumed that once QB had the opportunity to sniff the traffic cone he’d see that it was harmless.  We moved closer.  QB growled and barked; the foam leapt from his mouth onto the pavement.  I tried to get him into a “sit” position but he was too tensed up to listen.  He snarled and jumped, twirled, and snapped his teeth into my thigh.


It was a sharp bite that felt like a needle prick, but it wasn’t deep; it barely broke the skin.  Nothing was hurt, I knew, except my spirit.  I knew I should get QB away from there as fast as possible, and as we passed the Evil Cone I knew in my heart that if this Evil Cone were an infant, or a child, or a person of any age, and QB felt for that person the way he felt for the Evil Cone, that person would no longer be alive.


As a dog owner and adult citizen I know I am responsible for my dog’s actions.  What if he hurts someone?  I mean, what if he seriously hurts someone?  Can I truly say that any disaster is one hundred percent preventable?  Whereas before I would worry about QB jumping on an elderly person and knocking her over, now I worry about QB tearing that person to bits.  Of course he’s always on leash, always with me, but what if–


You hear stories about Pit Bulls, kept as attack dogs, that kill people.  These dogs are put to sleep.  Sometimes you hear about a house pet that kills a newborn baby out of jealousy.  The fate of such dogs varies but generally they are spared.


I must say, I’m very frightened.



Feedback and comments welcome!