Helping Hands

One of the biggest challenges in raising Albie was the realization that he doesn't like to be touched. That's right. Our adorable pooch would rather you didn't pet him, thank you very much. Crazy, I know, but when I told a behaviorist/trainer I know she said it's more common than people think. The manner with which dogs express their discomfort comes in various levels. My mother rescued a chihuahua mix from a hoarding situation who has an intense fear of hands. She wouldn't normally bite, just run from the situation. My mother has earned her trust, therefore her hands are ok. I have spent time there, while visiting, and Sophie has become used to my being around, but I could still sense apprehension. I'm sure, if I were able to spend an extended period of time with her, she would become comfortable with me. I walk a few dogs who dodge away from my hand when I try to pet them. They would never bite, but prefer that I not touch them. It's weird to experience when compared to the typical, loyal pup.
But my dog is anything but 'typical'. When my partner or I tried to pet him, he growled. Always. It was disheartening the first time this behavior exhibited itself. I was so sad that I couldn't touch my dog without hearing that horrible rumble echo in his throat. I began to look for answers to why this had happened. I finally found a potential explanation in one of the many books about dog behavior I have read. When raising puppies, it is important to begin picking them up when they are five weeks old. Although dogs are domesticated, they need to become used to human touch. When Albie was found, they estimated he was no older than six weeks. I don't think he had been abused before then because he never really flinched in fear when we reached out to him. It was obvious that he just didn't know what hands were for and why we wanted to touch him.
My strategy was simple, keep trying. It began with me putting my hand out every time he walked by, letting it brush along his side. I continued trying to pet him. I even went so far as to explain that hands were good, using a quiet, soothing tone of voice. Hands gave him treats. They threw the ball. I'm sure many think I'm crazy for talking to him as if he knew what I was saying, but I like to think that he can comprehend what I'm telling him. It didn't happen overnight, but after four long years of consistent coddling I witnessed definite progress. Previously, if I gestured for him to come to me, he would emit a low growl. Now he will come over and actually lean against me while I scratch his back. He even comes over when I don't cajole him. People have always wanted to pet him and we would always be hesitant to allow it because he would frequently snarl at their hands. It was never a huge one, often so subtle that only we would notice it, but it would happen. Now he is downright friendly to almost anyone, including men with whom he is often leery.
I won't go so far as to announce that he's cured. We took a hike today and had found many ticks crawling on him. When we were in the car ("going somewhere" in his mind) he had no problem with me touching him. An hour ago, I wanted to check to make sure he didn't still have anything crawling on him. If you had heard the growls, you would have thought there was a rabid animal in the house; however, a few minutes ago he walked by me and didn't make a peep when I gave him a hearty pat. It's been a challenge, figuring out such a complex pooch. But I've seen amazing improvements over my years of hard work. I love my flawed dog. I have learned more from him than any other animal I have known, and I am forever grateful he is a part of my life.