The Mighty Quinn likes being manhandled and enclosed (even by the most loving arms) even less than he likes being photographed. It is times like these that my eyes tear as I wonder what horrors our gentle soul has endured. In anticipation of the arrival of the harness, both Steve and I have been slowly making progress in stroking him while we encircle his back or gently run our hands down both sides of his face and ruff.
When the harness arrived today, I unpackaged it and put it on the floor hoping that familiarity would help when it came to putting it on. TOWD walked passed it a few times and sniffed, but then Puff grabbed the end and hauled the harness off to her crate. I rescued it and put it back on the table.
The whole harness issue has arisen because of Quinn's post single seizure panic attacks. At times he just gets so confused and nervous that he reacts mindlessly. Last week he slipped his traditional collar at the Park while walking with Michael. Michael recaptured him but could not reattached his collar, so the two stood hidden from us until we went looking to find out why they were gone so long. And last Wednesday in a walk with White Dog and Puff before Steve's late teaching night, he did the same thing and took off running...but this time toward the busy Route 66. Steve dropped WD's leash and told her to "STAY!" but Puff has no such training and he just thrust the leash at a stranger coming out of a restaurant around the corner. Quinn was so panicked that he bit Steve.
It was then that we decided he needed a harness so there was always some way to grab him or releash him quickly without fear of getting bitten. The harness also eliminates the possibility of his slipping his leash and running blindly into unsafe conditions.
White Dog WAS right, Quinn was not happy about the process of fitting the harness. I held him with a leash attached to his collar and stroked his face as Steve slowly and gently moved around him to adjust and fasten the straps.We tried our best to keep the process as positive as possible but the minute we were done, he headed out of the dog door and hid under the deck.
All of the others went out to comfort him and one-by-one returned...except for Nuka, Another White Dog. When Steve looked out she had drawn Quinn out from hiding and was walking close by his side around the perimeter of the yard. At one point she turned and gently nosed his new harness and then rested her head on it.
Then they came in. Nuka rejoined the pack but Quinn went to his sleeping space to be alone. When I came in to blog, I thanked him for trusting us and tried to explain that we had his best interests at heart. Even with the duck jerky reward, I suspect it will be days before he doesn't act like he has been shackled.