Friday, September 19, 2008

Roscoe the Destroyer

This is a story of my dog Roscoe.


Roscoe

Roscoe had been a prior pet of some friends who'd gotten him from someone else. The home I'd brought him home from was a family with several children and many other pets, including a very dominant Alpha dog.
Poor Roscoe was a seriously brow-beaten pooch.

Being good-natured folks, my friends reasoned that if Roscoe had a place all to himself, he might come out of his little doggy shell and enjoy life a bit more.

So I took Roscoe in, got him a dog house, and put him in my fenced back yard.


Roscoe and His Dog House

Try as I might, though, I could never get Roscoe to relax. He cringed whenever I entered the room -- I came to fear he'd been treated badly by one of his previous owners, and as a result had become skittish around all humans. He also wouldn't eat his food with anyone around.

Poor Roscoe also had his mind set on ESCAPE. He was an expert digger, and wreaked havoc with my yard and fence.


Boards Missing in My Fence



Close-Up of the Scene

My neighbors twice caught him and brought him home to me.

So poor Roscoe was put on a chain in the fenced back yard. He wasn't happy about this at all; he pouted about it and hid in his doghouse.

A Pouting Roscoe

I tried alternatives. Taking him out on walks was difficult because -- even though he was on a leash -- he ran from everything. I put him in the basement, but he just crawled into the corner and sat motionless.

One day I had the idea of letting him have the run of the house while I was out and about. Perhaps he would learn to be comfortable on his own in a homey environment.

Big mistake.

When I arrived back in the house, I discovered that Roscoe had made some home improvements by chewing my Venetian blinds to pieces. Judging by the liberal amounts of blood and saliva on everything, I'd say he'd chewed them in quite a frenzy.

Venetian Blinds by Roscoe


Blinds in the Living Room

So I threw in the towel. Roscoe went to a neighbor whose mother owned 40 acres of wooded land in the country. I figured Roscoe could run and dig and chew all he wanted out there without having to ever deal with humans. I've since moved from that house and lost contact with the man who took Roscoe, but I still have the memories and photos of my encounters with Roscoe the Destroyer.

1 comment:

Rose Blue said...

Bummer, it's hard to figure out whether to feel sorry for you or for the dog. The jury is still out.