Ψάχνοντας να δω, αν είναι αναγνωρισμένη φυλή, ώστε να το βάλω στην σωστή κατηγορία, είδα ότι μόλις χθες, δημοσιεύθηκε το πρότυπο!!!
Λυπάμαι πολύ, που το κείμενο είναι στα Αγγλικά, αλλά έστω κι έτσι, πιστεύω ότι πρέπει να μπει, για να το διαβάσουν, μερικοί-μερικοί που το μόνο που τους ενδιαφέρει να επιδείξουν, είναι το μέγεθος!
Είχα πολλές άγνωστες λέξεις, αλλά το νόημα, δεν το χάνεις.
Δεν μπορώ να κάνω κριτική, σχετικά με την συμπεριφορά του ζώου. Το αφήνω σε όσους το κατέχουν, ή νομίζουν ότι το κατέχουν. Εγώ, μένω με την ανατριχίλα!
Enjoy...
Below are the details of what happened to us yesterday here at Alderman Farms. The accompanying photos were taken today, after a shower. I apologize if the photos are "too much." I certainly have no intention of posting the earlier photos.
This story might be too long, but that’s on purpose – it’s part of my critical incident stress debriefing process, so please bear with me:
I was feeding the critters after having repaired some fencing, and drove the Polaris over by MawMaw’s house in order to feed the cows and the few pigs housed in that area. As I approached, I noticed that Duke, our 1.5 year old 120 lb. Anatolian Shepherd dog, had taken possession of a newly born piglet that had wandered out from beneath the electrified fence, and I noticed that the piglet was still alive. I parked the Polaris, left it running, and exited to approach Duke. I knew better than to just march up to him, so from a distance of 12-15 feet, I firmly scolded him telling him “No,” and directing him to come away from the piglet. He was growling, but also wagging his tail and his ears were in a submissive position.
Before I continue, let me tell you a little more about Duke. Duke looked to me for guidance, and was extremely obedient, especially to me. [I've edited that previous sentence to remove the term "alpha," the implications of which I apparently did not understand. It seems to have implied that I exerted "dominance" over him and was harsh toward him. Nothing of the sort. All I meant was that Duke seemed to look at me as his owner. I don't know how to better state it.] If he was about to slip out of the front gate, all I had to do was say “No,” and he would return. He was also a very affectionate animal, who would roll onto his back often, inviting a belly rub. He walked right next to me most of the time, so close that I could rest my hand on his head while walking. When Duke was eating dog food, I could pet him all about his head and neck and handle his food, without a hint of protest from him. [I have since learned that there are experts in the field who consider what I described in the previous sentence as "bullying" my dog. That makes no sense to me, as I never TOOK food from him, never reached into his bowl just to show him I could, or anything like that. On the contrary, when I would reach into his bowl, I would take some of his food into my hand, and feed it to him and he would gently eat it from my hand. It also breaks my heart to know that Duke may very well have interpreted my actions as bullying.] Several friends and acquaintances that have interacted with Duke have expressed shock that he would behave in any other way. In other words, his behavior yesterday was unusual and unexpected [edited to add: I am beginning to believe that there were signals and cues coming from Duke that I grossly misinterpreted and misunderstood], and I believe a result of what I’m describing as a “perfect storm” of circumstances, which storm includes at least two monumental errors on my part. That’s not to excuse him – he should never have attacked me no matter the circumstances – my examination of my errors is just a part of the process of deciphering not only what happened, exactly, but also WHY it happened.
I continued to express disapproval and encourage him to come away from the piglet and toward me, which he eventually did. He was in a submissive posture as he approached me, though he was still growling slightly, and he was wagging his tail as I backed away from the area in which the piglet was located, so it was “so far, so good” at that point. My first crucial mistake was that I didn’t put enough distance between the piglet and us. I knew better than that.
My second crucial mistake, and definitely the more serious mistake of the two, was that for some unknown reason I squatted down in front of him to praise him for his obedience. That was an enormous blunder, especially in light of the fact that almost at the same exact time, another of the dogs approached us. I’m pretty sure it was “Blue,” the one puppy of Duke’s that we kept...a beautiful blue-eyed fella that is a cross between an Anatolian Shepherd and a Border Collie. Whichever dog it was, it's presence in close proximity perhaps sealed my fate. I knew immediately, as I squatted there in front of Duke, that I was in serious trouble. I knew that I needed to stand up, but I also knew that as soon as I did, the fight would be on. I was right.
I stood as smoothly and slowly as I could without doing it too slowly, and as soon as I was upright, Duke attacked. He first bit my left hand, through thick insulated work gloves (I know where he bit me first and last, but the order of the bites between those two are a blur to me). I tried to restrain him as I walked backward, I suppose looking for an escape (I don’t know, really, it just happened that I was backing up). Thankfully, due to the grace and mercy of God, I managed to back up beyond the running Polaris, before I stumbled and fell to the ground. I immediately knew that I was in even more serious trouble being on the ground beneath such a huge and powerful dog, but I was thankful I hadn’t fallen next to the Polaris, because had that happened, it’s a certainty that neither Patti nor Cory would’ve heard my screams – the sound of the Polaris would’ve swallowed my voice completely.
As Duke and I wrestled on the ground, I continually called for Patti as loud as I could for what seemed to be half an hour (it was probably a minute or two), and with no response from the house, I was on the verge of losing any hope of rescue. That was a deeply disheartening moment: I knew I couldn’t quit trying to restrain him, but I was at the point despair, “knowing,” I thought, that no one was coming to my aid and that I would eventually lose enough strength or stamina or blood that I would have nothing left with which to fend off the dog, and my family would later find my lifeless body in the yard. I’m sorry to sound so dramatic. I promise you those were the thoughts with which I was wrestling, in addition to having to wrestle with the dog. I prayed that the Lord would intervene, give me strength, calm the dog, protect Patti’s and Cory’s heart were I to succumb. It was surreal. I found myself pleading with the dog, actually asking him to “Please stop. Please stop, Duke. It’s Daddy.” That seems so silly now, but at the time, it felt perfectly reasonable.
Συνεχίζεται...
Λυπάμαι πολύ, που το κείμενο είναι στα Αγγλικά, αλλά έστω κι έτσι, πιστεύω ότι πρέπει να μπει, για να το διαβάσουν, μερικοί-μερικοί που το μόνο που τους ενδιαφέρει να επιδείξουν, είναι το μέγεθος!
Είχα πολλές άγνωστες λέξεις, αλλά το νόημα, δεν το χάνεις.
Δεν μπορώ να κάνω κριτική, σχετικά με την συμπεριφορά του ζώου. Το αφήνω σε όσους το κατέχουν, ή νομίζουν ότι το κατέχουν. Εγώ, μένω με την ανατριχίλα!
Enjoy...
Below are the details of what happened to us yesterday here at Alderman Farms. The accompanying photos were taken today, after a shower. I apologize if the photos are "too much." I certainly have no intention of posting the earlier photos.
This story might be too long, but that’s on purpose – it’s part of my critical incident stress debriefing process, so please bear with me:
I was feeding the critters after having repaired some fencing, and drove the Polaris over by MawMaw’s house in order to feed the cows and the few pigs housed in that area. As I approached, I noticed that Duke, our 1.5 year old 120 lb. Anatolian Shepherd dog, had taken possession of a newly born piglet that had wandered out from beneath the electrified fence, and I noticed that the piglet was still alive. I parked the Polaris, left it running, and exited to approach Duke. I knew better than to just march up to him, so from a distance of 12-15 feet, I firmly scolded him telling him “No,” and directing him to come away from the piglet. He was growling, but also wagging his tail and his ears were in a submissive position.
Before I continue, let me tell you a little more about Duke. Duke looked to me for guidance, and was extremely obedient, especially to me. [I've edited that previous sentence to remove the term "alpha," the implications of which I apparently did not understand. It seems to have implied that I exerted "dominance" over him and was harsh toward him. Nothing of the sort. All I meant was that Duke seemed to look at me as his owner. I don't know how to better state it.] If he was about to slip out of the front gate, all I had to do was say “No,” and he would return. He was also a very affectionate animal, who would roll onto his back often, inviting a belly rub. He walked right next to me most of the time, so close that I could rest my hand on his head while walking. When Duke was eating dog food, I could pet him all about his head and neck and handle his food, without a hint of protest from him. [I have since learned that there are experts in the field who consider what I described in the previous sentence as "bullying" my dog. That makes no sense to me, as I never TOOK food from him, never reached into his bowl just to show him I could, or anything like that. On the contrary, when I would reach into his bowl, I would take some of his food into my hand, and feed it to him and he would gently eat it from my hand. It also breaks my heart to know that Duke may very well have interpreted my actions as bullying.] Several friends and acquaintances that have interacted with Duke have expressed shock that he would behave in any other way. In other words, his behavior yesterday was unusual and unexpected [edited to add: I am beginning to believe that there were signals and cues coming from Duke that I grossly misinterpreted and misunderstood], and I believe a result of what I’m describing as a “perfect storm” of circumstances, which storm includes at least two monumental errors on my part. That’s not to excuse him – he should never have attacked me no matter the circumstances – my examination of my errors is just a part of the process of deciphering not only what happened, exactly, but also WHY it happened.
I continued to express disapproval and encourage him to come away from the piglet and toward me, which he eventually did. He was in a submissive posture as he approached me, though he was still growling slightly, and he was wagging his tail as I backed away from the area in which the piglet was located, so it was “so far, so good” at that point. My first crucial mistake was that I didn’t put enough distance between the piglet and us. I knew better than that.
My second crucial mistake, and definitely the more serious mistake of the two, was that for some unknown reason I squatted down in front of him to praise him for his obedience. That was an enormous blunder, especially in light of the fact that almost at the same exact time, another of the dogs approached us. I’m pretty sure it was “Blue,” the one puppy of Duke’s that we kept...a beautiful blue-eyed fella that is a cross between an Anatolian Shepherd and a Border Collie. Whichever dog it was, it's presence in close proximity perhaps sealed my fate. I knew immediately, as I squatted there in front of Duke, that I was in serious trouble. I knew that I needed to stand up, but I also knew that as soon as I did, the fight would be on. I was right.
I stood as smoothly and slowly as I could without doing it too slowly, and as soon as I was upright, Duke attacked. He first bit my left hand, through thick insulated work gloves (I know where he bit me first and last, but the order of the bites between those two are a blur to me). I tried to restrain him as I walked backward, I suppose looking for an escape (I don’t know, really, it just happened that I was backing up). Thankfully, due to the grace and mercy of God, I managed to back up beyond the running Polaris, before I stumbled and fell to the ground. I immediately knew that I was in even more serious trouble being on the ground beneath such a huge and powerful dog, but I was thankful I hadn’t fallen next to the Polaris, because had that happened, it’s a certainty that neither Patti nor Cory would’ve heard my screams – the sound of the Polaris would’ve swallowed my voice completely.
As Duke and I wrestled on the ground, I continually called for Patti as loud as I could for what seemed to be half an hour (it was probably a minute or two), and with no response from the house, I was on the verge of losing any hope of rescue. That was a deeply disheartening moment: I knew I couldn’t quit trying to restrain him, but I was at the point despair, “knowing,” I thought, that no one was coming to my aid and that I would eventually lose enough strength or stamina or blood that I would have nothing left with which to fend off the dog, and my family would later find my lifeless body in the yard. I’m sorry to sound so dramatic. I promise you those were the thoughts with which I was wrestling, in addition to having to wrestle with the dog. I prayed that the Lord would intervene, give me strength, calm the dog, protect Patti’s and Cory’s heart were I to succumb. It was surreal. I found myself pleading with the dog, actually asking him to “Please stop. Please stop, Duke. It’s Daddy.” That seems so silly now, but at the time, it felt perfectly reasonable.
Συνεχίζεται...