Bowden’s Story

This is the story about a girl, her dog and her new friends.  That girl is me, Mica; my dog is Bowden, and my friends are Kelley and Traci from Kelden’s.  In order to comprehend how much Kelden’s has touched me, you must first hear my story.  

Around one year ago (my how time flies), my husband and I were both completely content with our lives.  We had wonderful families, great friends, good jobs, and a beautiful home.  We had been married for around a year and a half and had begun to contemplate expanding our family.  Don’t misunderstand me, I had just finished my master’s degree, and we were living a carefree, fun-filled lifestyle; I made no qualms about the fact that I was NOT ready for children; I was, however, more open to the idea of a dog.  This decision is what would set into motion the events of the following crazy year and my new found friendship with the wonderful women of Kelden’s.   

We had toyed with the idea of looking for a dog but had not seriously started to look when one faithful day, my husband’s mother called to tell us that she had found the most precious dogs and that we could have one--for free!  I must admit that at first I was a bit iffy about the idea even though I had been thinking of getting a dog.  The idea of a dog was great, but the actual dog itself I knew would mean much work for me. 

Now, I was no stranger to an inside house dog.  For my tenth birthday my father, much to my mother’s unhappiness, took me and bought me a little twelve-week-old snow white, toy poodle in which I so lovingly dubbed Peppy (aka Pep or Peppers).  He was beautiful (and still is), and has provided my mother (who doesn’t drive because of an eye disease) and myself with many years (fifteen to be exact) of joy.  BUT, I do remember the headache he was, or so we thought, to train  (we would later decide that we had taken for granted his loving, laid-back personality and had given ourselves entirely too much credit for his easy going nature).  I can also recall that it was mom who got stuck doing the dirty work, and I was the one who played with Pep, so the idea of getting a new dog for which I would be solely responsible for scared me.  I knew I would be doing the dirty work (even though my husband did promise to help—don’t they all).

I wavered on whether or not to accept a dog.  I finally decided that I would just go and look at the dogs before I made any commitments (big mistake #1).  Of course, I fell utterly in love with the litter of Yorkie / Maltese mixed puppies and had to have one.  My husband and I gravitated towards this one spunky puppy that couldn’t be still.  We liked his mischievous face and inquisitive personality (big mistake # 2—I would later regret not having chosen the lazy, relaxed, calm puppy in the litter), so we claimed him for our own and prepared to be puppy parents.

We had to wait around for three to four weeks before the puppy would be old enough for us to bring home, so during these weeks, we went crazy buying puppy paraphernalia.  We also decided on a name.  I am a huge Wizard of Oz fan, and wanted to name the dog Toto, but my husband decided this was not a manly name for a male dog.  He, however, is a huge Florida State Seminole fan and wanted to name the dog after his favorite team.  We decided who better than to name our new “baby” after but the most winningest coach in the ACC, Bobby Bowden.   This is how our puppy became known as Bowden (but he has many nicknames including Bow, Bow-Wow and Bowzers).  I fell head over heels in love with Bowden.

  The first night Bowden came home with Shaun and me, we fussed over him like a new mother would a baby (which actually became a trend in my life for the next year).  We had prepared “Doak Campbell Stadium” (aka Bowden’s kennel) and could not wait to make Bowden a part of our home.  Bowden’s first night went great.  I had seen my mother train my poodle (who still lives with her), and I knew what I was supposed to do (or so I thought).  I placed Bow in the kennel and nervously (which is how I stayed for about 12 months) went to bed.  I prepared myself for him to cry all night (this is what Pep had done for the first few nights, only I didn’t have to deal with it, mom did).  To my surprise, Bow slept all night.  The next morning I thought “this isn’t so bad; I’ve gotten the perfect dog.”  That was my last full night of sleep for seven months. 

The following months were stressful.  Bowden cried every night when I put him in his kennel, and not just the type of crying where he softly whined, he cried loudly and even would bang on the door of the kennel relentlessly until I would come to his rescue, which I always did (big mistake # 3).  Now, I am a huge softy with apparently a strong motherly instinct (despite what people who know me with children think), and I would play different scenarios over in my head of why Bowden was crying (all of the scenarios except the one where I realized he was training me).  I soon began a pattern that I would become a slave to for six months, walking him at night. 

When Pep had been little, my parents had been diligent to walk him often so as to train him to potty outside.  It worked like a charm, and he never abused this privilege.  Bowden, however, saw this training opportunity as a way to his literal “get out of jail free card.”  He proved to be one smart pup (or me one dumb owner) because I soon began believing he had to potty every time he cried in the kennel.  I would wait to hear him cry, get out of bed (keep in mind it was the middle of the night and November), get dressed, and proceed to take him outside.  He always went, so I just became even more convinced that I got the one dog in the world that had a bowel problem.  My night revolved around taking Bow out, trying to put him in his kennel, listening to him cry profusely, and often times taking him out again.  We kept this routine up until around June (when I finally stopped after my girlfriend with a baby informed me that she was not up as often with her baby as I was with my dog).  Once, I actually made it through the night without taking him out; I was so exhausted that I ignored him.  I woke up the next morning to find him covered in pooh, and I beat myself up for not taking care of him.  I never ignored him again.  

My mother, who noticed the toll these long nights of unrest were having on my mood, began to keep Bowden for me a few nights a week so that I could get a few good nights of sleep (she—and my dad—proved to be my saving grace over the next year.  I cannot thank them enough for ALL they did).  Now my husband could sleep through these nights and was often unaware of my late night romps through the neighborhood.  He also works a shift for his job that often requires him to either get home very late or leave in the early hours of the morning.  On the nights he was home, I felt like I shouldn’t bother him to help me because he needed his sleep to be able to work his long hours the following day.  I, on the other hand, had a much more flexible working schedule.  I had begun that same year my first real job, teaching at a university.  Since I was only an adjunct teacher and still learning the ropes, I had many stresses on me that contributed to my rise in mood swings.  What began as occasional visits soon escalated into almost continual nights of Bowden sleeping at the “mountain home” as my parents so jokingly dubbed it.  Though this did help to lower my stress level at night, another key factor in Bowden’s personality began to compensate for the relief. 

Now, I am in no way trying to make Bowden sound like a demon-dog.  He had so many loving characteristics that my whole family (by whole I mean my immediate) loved him.  He would roll over onto his back in loving submission every time one of his “pack members” walked into the room.  He would provide continuous laughs with his still spunky and mischievous personality.  He learned to potty outside even quicker than my poodle had.  He never chewed even one thing up in my home.  He would play raucously with his toys.  He did a special dance and trick with my dad for fruit loops called the “hickem-bauckem,” and he even became “best friends” with Peppy (though my family did believe that at times Peppy tried to frame Bowden for a few mysterious accidents in the house in a vain attempt to get rid of him).  We began to love his personality at home and got great joy from playing with him and loving on him.

 Despite these “wonderful” characteristics Bowden possessed, he also started showing signs of a less than lovely personality towards strangers.  Bowden had exhibited signs of aggression as a puppy (although at the time, my family did not even realize that it was aggressive behavior until later when we looked back at video footage of him biting me at about fourteen weeks old), and those signs had turned into full blown billboards by the time he was five months old.  We had brought Bow home in early November and had taken him everywhere with us during the holidays.  I had wanted a cute “legally blond” dog to dress up and tote in a purse, so I bought festive scarves and proceeded to acclimate Bowden to being in public (keep in mind my nervousness about his well being, my lack of sleep, etc…).  I really don’t think I personally had anything to do with Bowden’s personality, but I definitely enabled him by treating him like a human and not a dog.  Whatever it was, his behavior had nothing to do with not being socialized like so many non-experts tried to tell me. 

By January, Bowden began to be so aggressive that we could no longer take him to family functions where he could bite someone.  This provided even more stress in my life because when I left him home alone, I spent the entire time away worrying about things that, in hindsight, I realize were very unnecessary.  I would constantly feel the need to rush home and check on him.  He was always okay, and he never destroyed even one thing in my home, but I still would feel the nervous, anxious need to come home to him after mere hours of being away.  I would also obsess over his comfort when I was away (I would fix a virtual palace for him to stay in to ensure he was happy). 

Anyway, had this been the only problem with his aggressiveness, I would have been happy.  I live next door to my parent’s house, and we have a never ending amount of company, including children, coming over to both houses (and Bow was practically living at his “mountain home” as much if not more than he was living at home—which added guilt to the mixture of stresses I was feeling).  With the flow of company, his aggressive temper seemed to worsen.  He would go crazy when people walked into the houses and would definitely bite if the person(s) got within reach of his cute, furry face.  Now at first, my family thought this was actually funny because of Bowden’s adorable five pound self and his hysterical personality.  We did not reprimand him for a long time (big mistake # 4) because he was “not even big enough to do much damage” (yes, I’ll admit that we said that).  By the time we realized what a problem we had (which came after Bow had bitten at least two innocent bystanders—this does not include the multiple victims who knowingly tempted him by testing his personality), we did not know how to fix it.  However, we knew we had a BIG problem when he eventually moved past “the-growling-and-only-biting-when-people-get-too-close” phase and into “the-attack-and-bite-without-being-provoked” phase.

My stress mounted with the ever growing temper of Bowden.  My extended family all decided that they hated Bowden and rightfully so;  he tried to eat them every time anyone outside of the eight people whom he loved entered into his territory.  My nine year old cousin who is more like my niece burst into tears at the thought of having to come over.  My friends were scared of him (with the exception of two special friends to whom Bowden accepted after about three months of continual visits).  My mother and I were in a constant state of shuffling Bowden back and forth between the house that did not have company, and then there was those times when guests would unexpectedly show up, and Bow would have to go into the kennel or bed room where he would cry and whine; eventually he anticipated being put up, and he started to snarl at us when we tried to put him in another room.  He also developed the habit of constantly biting me (playful though it was, it could get very annoying). 

We hoped that as he got older, he would grow out of it, but he only worsened.  By the time spring rolled around, I was beginning to realize what a terror I had (and I mean that in the most loving way); however, it was easy to overlook because he was SO caring and loyal to our immediate family.  We would forget how he acted because we loved him.  Then one day in the spring, I decided to go to a yard sale at a friend’s house.  My friend is also a dog lover, but not for the small cuddly types; she loves Great Danes.  Her dog, which is by far larger than me, has a similar personality to my Bowden.  I used to think and wonder why she would want a dog that had such an aggressive temper (looking back I realize the main difference between him and Bowden was only around 146 lbs.).  On that particular morning, I showed up at the yard sale bright and early where I unfortunately encountered my friend’s dog (I was there before anyone else so that I would be able to pick through the clothes; he was not out with the general public).  Before I realized what had happened, her dog became aggressive and bit me resulting in a trip to the ER and ample amounts of Dermabond.  This incident, though no ones fault, really freaked me out.  I began to have nightmares about being attacked by dogs and, to this day, cannot go near large dogs that I do not know without being panicked.  I was slightly traumatized by the accident, and I realized how much I needed to get a grip on my own ankle biter.  At first I thought the two dogs were completely different.  “Mine won’t kill somebody” I would say to justify Bow’s bad behavior.  But I soon realized after watching Bowden interact extremely aggressively with the kids in my family (except my eight year old niece, he really loved her, and she was part of the pack) that Bowden would probably never be able to be around my children when I had them.

I began to get more serious with his training.  I had him neutered and tried to be more assertive, but he seemed to only get worse.  Finally, fed up with his behavior, I went to the local pet store to look at shock collars (even though I seriously doubt I could have used one).  An employee at the store told me to try their animal trainer first (big waste of money I initially, and wrongfully, thought), but I agreed to talk to her.  I brought Bowden back to the store to have a consultation with her.  Her name was Kelley Ireland, and from the moment I met her, I knew my problems were solved (though I did not anticipate the solution).  I immediately hired her, but I decided to hire her through her private company, Kelden’s K9s.  This was the beginning of an eye opening experience and a life long friendship.

Kelley decided after seeing first hand Bowden’s “I’m going to eat you, and I mean business” attitude that in-home visits were the most suitable option for training.  Bowden was a true pack animal and was extremely defensive when it came to his home and his loved ones (Peppy on the other hand would have merely licked the company to death and was not even aware of the fact that he was not human), so Bowden needed to be trained in the place where he was the most aggressive.  During our first visit, Kelley began to understand Bowden’s aggressive tendencies and taught my mother and myself about why he behaved in the way that he did.  She informed us that Bowden was NOT a mean dog and was truly a very loving animal (finally, someone who understood him instead of hated him) and that he was only a “wee bit misguided” as she so sweetly put it.  She provided us with tons of useful information on how to make Bowden understand that he was not my boss (and why would he think he wasn’t? I sure had let him think that he was the boss for the previous year).  She told me I would have to develop certain routines with him and break old habits like allowing him to sleep in my bed (when he did sleep with my husband and me, he thought that his place was on our pillows—I later learned this was a sign of his seeing himself as equal to us).  Here I was again, back to the prospect of sleepless nights listening to Bowden cry to get into the bed.  She also gave my family “submission holds”  to perform on Bow and a method for disciplining him which included gently popping his loose leash while simultaneously spraying him in the mouth with water lightly mixed with lemon juice and correcting him verbally with a low pitched, reprimanding noise.  Bowden’s life was forever going to change.  His free ride was officially over.

During the next few weeks Kelley, along with her friend and working partner, Traci, began to come over to work with Bowden.  We had a deal to train him for six weeks, once a week.  It was understood that my mom and I would be required to keep up the work between visits.  Let me first make clear how kind and sincere these women were.  When I first met Kelley, I was a high strung, stressed out pet mommy, and she noticed it.  She (as well as Traci) took every precaution to help de-stress me by not only helping me with Bowden’s training, but also by taking a personal interest in my well being.  She and Traci both showed true care and concern over my particular case.  She also made it a point to keep in touch via e-mail between our sessions.  Traci would send me helpful instructions on what to be doing with Bowden and how to not only change his behavior, but also to change my own.  We had worked together for around 3- 4 weeks (and had been making good progress) when I had a complete meltdown.  My cousin came to my mom’s one day and brought her seven month old baby, and Bowden was about as bad as I had ever seen him.  I tried to do as I was told with my leash in hand and my spray bottle on “mist.” I worked nervously to make my furry baby behave.  By the time my family was gone, I was in tears.  I had decided that I could no longer live in such an uptight state all of the time.  By the time Kelley showed up for our following session just a few days after my breaking point, I knew what I needed to do. 

What impressed me and my family so much about Kelley was her sincere concern for my heartache.  During that session, she did nothing but comfort me while I squalled (something I did nonstop for two solid weeks).  She neither tried to make me keep going with the training, nor did she try to blame me for not doing the homework assignments correctly.  She really understood that I loved my little animal with all of my human heart and that giving him up was one of the hardest things that I could do.  She fully understood my panic at seeing Bowden become so aggressive towards such a helpless baby,  and she also supported my decision to give him up based on my instinctive knowledge that he would never be able to be around my future children.        

My next big obstacle was finding a new home for Bowden.  I loved him, and I couldn’t stomach the idea of him living with a family that would mistreat him (or even just treat him like a dog).  I cried over my options (which seemed nil) and worried that I would just have to settle for a less than suitable owner.  My dad tried to talk me into just completely giving Bowden to him and my mom, but I knew that would not really solve anything.  It was during the meltdown at my house that Kelley presented the unsuspected, but wonderful solution.  She volunteered to take Bowden home with her for a two week intense training session, and if all went well, she presented the option of him permanently living with her and Traci.  This was like music to my ears.  I had so enjoyed Kelley and Traci and really felt their passion for working with animals (especially the so-called “less desirable misfits”).  I prayed that this solution would work, and to my excitement, Traci willingly agreed to allow Bowden to come into their home provided he got along with her pup, Muffin. 

Within 6 days, Kelley came over to take Bowden to his potential new home.  These were the hardest and longest 6 days of my life.  I felt as if I was giving away my first born child.  I cried so much that I feared my face would be permanently puffy.  Traci had been so kind as to call and lovingly reassure me that every thing would be okay.  On the night Kelley came to take Bowden (Traci couldn’t make it) I felt bittersweet (and so did my family).  Part of me felt immediate relief at no longer having to worry 24/7 about Bowden, but the other part of me felt tremendous heartache.  My husband had to deal with it in his own way.  He loved Bowden dearly and did not want to get rid of him.  He also knew that I was the sole provider for the dog and that I was the one that needed to make the decision.  We had some disagreements concerning Bowden, but in the end, he was extremely supportive of whatever I needed to do to be less stressed.  

Kelley’s kindness again exceeded my expectations of what a wonderful person she, as well as Traci, is.  She came over and allowed me to “say goodbye” for nearly two hours, all while my dad video taped and photographed my last few minutes with my baby.  I cried (as did my mom) when it came time to send Bow with Kelley.  This was not because I was worried about his well being, but because I knew how much I would miss him, and I do miss him very much.  Kelley and Traci have been good to call me and keep me updated with information and pictures about Bowden.  He is doing really great, and I have been so relieved to find out that he has begun to bond with both Kelley and Traci (and even Muffin).  My hopes are that he will truly think of them as family and be completely happy living with them.

As of now, Bowden is living with his new family for good.  However, I have been reassured by Kelley and Traci that I will maintain “visitation rights” and will be able to check up on my favorite puppy dog.  Getting back to life without Bowden has been odd.  I feel the ever looming need to rush home from functions to let him potty or to scurry around trying to catch him before the company comes in.  I found that I immediately became less stressed without having to worry about him constantly.  However, I really do miss his spunky attitude, his playful nose bites (which was probably another big mistake to add to the list), his warm, fuzzy body, his wet face kisses, and his playful way of “talking” to me.  I also miss the way he would chase his spidey ball, “pitch” anything small enough to fit into his mouth, bring in rocks from outside without my knowing it, and one of the biggest things I miss about him is the way he would “hickem-bauckem” for my dad.  To be such a bother, he sure was a joy.

I relocated Bowden within days of his one year anniversary of joining my family (it was the longest year of my life, and my mother has seriously questioned the real possibility of my developing post-partum depression after having a child).  It is amazing how much an animal can make a difference in a person’s life.  The world should be grateful to have such loving people in it willing to care for such helpless creatures.  I know that Kelley’s approach to my individual problem was more than generous and not typical (or at least I don't think that it was), but I do know that it was a God send for me and my family.  She has told me that Bowden’s personality and aggressions have already improved tremendously (especially since he is away from the one person he knew would never make him mind—dogs are smart!) She is going to continue working with him in the hopes that eventually he will not be aggressive in the least bit to strangers.  I would recommend to anyone considering having his/her animal trained to use the wonderful, competent, and compassionate women of Kelden’s K9.  They truly care about their work.  They have become my life-long friends!