Aaarghh, not again! Counting slowly to ten, breathing deeply, I’m absorbing the level of today’s destruction.
I didn’t think there was much left to destroy but it looks like I have to farewell yet another pillow, a pair of running shoes, a lone slipper and a couple of CD’s. It could have been worse, I guess, if I had not raced home after the monitoring company called to say my house alarm had gone off in zone 2, the lounge. The burglar sat amidst the destruction, wagging her tail, eyeing me up expectantly. One look at that happy and innocent face takes the wind out of my sails. It is impossible to stay angry at her.
Meet Reva, the Labrador - Border collie cross.
Until about 2 months ago, my life was normal and uneventful. I went to work each day, came home and took my Jack Russell Terrier, Pronto, for a walk in the local dog park. Then back home, cook dinner, watch a bit of telly and then off to bed, for it all to start again the next day. I had recently lost one of my dogs through post surgery complications and was still coming to terms with that, but I had been contemplating getting another friend for Pronto. I kept putting it off, reasoning that I can’t really afford to have another dog. On the other hand, seeing Pronto so unhappy being alone made me want to go out and get him a new playmate. I kept weighing up the pros and cons of adopting another dog but I simply could not make up my mind.
Then one sunny Saturday morning while I was walking up Mangere Mountain and Pronto was chasing rabbits, my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognise the number.
“Hello”, I answered impatiently, a bit annoyed to have my peaceful walk interrupted. It was Teresa from work. She said she was playing golf at Auckland Golf Club near Middlemore Hospital with a group of friends, when they spotted a dog hanging around, looking for food.
“It is a little girl, Daniela” Teresa gushed excitedly, “She’s only a puppy, very timid and too thin”.
Other members of the Golf Club said that the dog had been there for some days already. She was so shy that no-one could get near her. Teresa however, a real dog lover, persevered and after some time managed to coax the pup closer. A few pats and cuddles later, the puppy didn’t leave Teresa’s side anymore, closely following her for the full eighteen holes of the golf course.
Now the only question remaining was what to do with the little mite. Several ideas amongst the golfers were discussed and dismissed.
“Let’s call Daniela from work” Teresa suddenly said, “She’ll know what to do.”
That’s me. You see, I used to work as a Veterinary Nurse for twelve years before changing to my current office job. I rescued and rehomed many orphaned animals in my time. So who better to phone than me, someone who is incapable of saying no to an animal in need? It didn’t take much convincing and I was soon rushing down the mountain, with Pronto running ahead. It only took us ten minutes to drive to the Auckland Golf Club. Teresa came out with the frightened young dog. She was undeniably a beautiful puppy, mainly black with a white stripe on her chest and white toes on each paw. She was very cute indeed. I could understand why everyone at the Golf Club already loved her; she was such a sweet little thing.
Looks can be deceiving though and if I had known then what was to come I would have taken her to the nearest Animal Shelter myself.
In my years of being a Veterinary Nurse, I continually gave advice to frazzled clients when they came in and told me about all the things their puppy had chewed and destroyed.
“Be patient,” I would tell them.
“Yes, he will grow out of that destructive phase, he’s teething, it’s normal” I’d reassure them. I could never understand why people made such a big deal about the little accidents in the house, the chewing of furniture and shoes. That was simply part of the package of having a puppy. Ha! Now that Reva has entered my life I could suddenly sympathise with these past clients.
And so Reva joined our little family which consisted of me, the dog Pronto and a very timid feline called Leroy. The first week with Reva was a breeze as Pronto just growled at her and sulked at me. Leroy did what he does best when an intruder shows up – he disappeared. This gave me time to concentrate on settling Reva in and showing her the ropes at Chateau Daniela. My heart ached to see how much she craved TLC and how she wolfed down her food as if it were her last supper. I was determined to show her a better life than what she had before.
Over the next couple of weeks, Pronto slowly came around, occasionally exerting his dominance. Mostly though, they were playing happily. Even Leroy started making an appearance again, sneaking in at night to eat, then hiss at Reva and shoot back out through the cat door, so fast, the door would swing on its hinges for quite some time afterwards.
Reva’s sweet and loving nature lulled me into a false sense of security. I had done it again and rescued an animal in need, proving that all that is required is good old fashioned TLC.
Oh boy was I wrong!
Once Reva’s confidence grew, she became mischievous but also suffered badly from separation anxiety.
And so her game began.
As long as I was around, she was as good as gold but as soon as I left the property she panicked and tried to follow me every which way she could. She turned out to be a real Houdini. Once I departed for work in the morning, it was only a matter of time until I got a phone call from a neighbour to say Reva had escaped. No-one could catch her as she was too timid. So, every day for about two weeks, usually within an hour of arriving at work, I’d have to rush back home again and find her. Luckily she was never too far away and came back when called, looking suitably sheepish. My stress levels were through the roof. I was scared she’d get hit by a car or be impounded. That $300 fine I could not afford, let alone an enormous vet bill to patch her up after an accident. To keep her safe (and keep my job) I had no choice but to chain her up during the day until I could resolve the problem.
I roped my friend Sara in to help me turn my property into Fort Knox. Off to Bunning’s Warehouse we went, coming back in the dark with planks of wood, a roll of strong wire and other bits and pieces. Then we proceeded to lower the gate so Reva could no longer squeeze underneath it. Let me ask you this: If my cat can only just get under it, how come my Labrador sized dog can do it with ease? You figure it out.
Sara and I were working hard, not afraid of using all sorts of tools. By the time we finished with the gate and had put an extension up on the fence to stop Reva from jumping it, we were buggered but also quite satisfied.
“There’s no way she can get out now,” Sara said.
I nodded in agreement.
The next morning, I barricaded my gate with a plank of wood, fastening it with numerous bungee cords. That took about 10 minutes to do, with Reva and Pronto watching intently.
Feeling confident in knowing my little escape artist would be safely contained at home, I left for work.
Well, imagine my surprise when I got home that evening and there was no Reva.
“Surely not,” I muttered under my breath, “I don’t believe this.”
Pronto was happy to see me and not the slightest bit concerned about being alone. I searched every corner of my property to find her escape route, all the while calling her name. I walked up and down the street, feeling a mixture of frustration and anxiety.
No luck, she was gone.
Despondently, I patted Pronto on the head and opened the front door to my house. Lost in thoughts it took me a few seconds to realise the scene that greeted me. The place looked like a tornado had swooped through it. Everything had been wiped off the coffee table, there were ripped up magazines, my socks out of the bedroom, my shoes out of the laundry. Everything had been dragged into the lounge and shredded. In the middle of all that chaos was Reva, eyeballing me, happy as Larry, as if to say “Look mum, I’m a good girl, I stayed home!”
Squeezing herself through the cat door must have been a tough challenge, but that’s my girl, nothing is ever too hard for her.
Now that the escaping was no longer an option, Reva’s new game was to break into the house with one mission only: Destroy! Well, I am going to show this headstrong puppy that I am just as stubborn as her. Game on – again!
After a few days of shrugging off my daily losses, I had an epiphany and locked the cat door during the day. Now my darling girl would have no way of escaping the property or getting into the house to shred my possessions.
Is it Game Over? Am I the winner? Has Reva accepted defeat, or is she simply taking time out, plotting the next game?
Hmm, time will tell.