A-Z of #Dog Rescue: Catch Me (If You Can) — #AtoZChallenge

A fellow A2Z-er made the perfect comment on Saturday's post to introduce this one:

Mark Twain wrote: "No good deed goes unpunished." We must prepare for the bruises and wounds that come with helping the helpless. :-(

Thank you, Roland. (Hop on over when you get a chance and show him some love!) He's 100% right, you know. Sometimes rescue gets rough. Sometimes a dog that needs immediate help refuses to cooperate. For whatever reason—and variations are endless. But it comes down to this:

 How do you catch a dog that doesn’t want to be caught? 

CHASE & CORNER

This Hope for Paws video does a great job of showing what it's like. It's a happy, happy story, but if, like me, you cry with Pedigree commercials, you might want to turn down the volume. (Especially after the rescue.)

Cornering the dog is only 10% of the battle. Once s/he realizes there's no way out except through you, one of three things will happen—and you need to be prepared for all three.

S/he'll submit

A dog's surrender, especially of a street-born dog who's been self-reliant all his/her life, is one of the hardest things to see in dog rescue. They have no way of knowing you're their lifeline; at that point, you're the bad guy, the monster in the closet that came out and sat on their beds, licking its chops. And still they give up. It breaks my heart every time.

S/he'll make a run for it

That's what happened in the video above. You saw how quickly the rescuer had to act, how on the fly the snare leash went around the dog's neck. You need to be ready. And you need to be fast. At that point, it's all or nothing.

S/he'll fight back

Once a skittish dog feels trapped, especially once the leash goes around their neck, they will fight it. They'll thrash and howl and empty their bowels, and they'll bite at anything within reach—including you. 

It's horrible to see. And to listen to. But here's the thing. You can't let go. 

Let’s get our priorities straight. The goal here—the only one that counts, the thing that trumps every other consideration—is Getting The Dog. Everything else (getting bitten, getting hurt, looking stupid, whatever) is important only in the measure that it affects Getting The Dog.

I know someone who got dragged sixteen feet over sharp rocks by a feral dog she'd been after for weeks and had just managed to leash. She delivered the dog to the foster (me) with blood trickling down both her shins. I asked if she wanted the first-aid kit. She said sure, but let's first get the dog settled in.

Priorities.

And, while we're at it, let's get something else out of the way. There is no such thing as a vicious dog. What people see as "aggression" is either training or, especially within the rescue context, fear. A dog will attack as a last resort only, and then only because s/he honestly believes his/her survival depends on it. When you don't have time to engage in dogspeak conversation about how all this is for their own good, you need to be prepared to give some blood.

Come on. It's for a good cause.

The other thing they'll bite is the leash, which is why you'll need a sturdy snare leash instead of the cute purple and pink one you walk Fido with (check out the K post for more on the Dog Rescuer's Kit). I lost a dog that way once. Had her finally on a leash (after she bit me), and while we were waiting for someone to get the transport crate from the car—not even a minute, I swear—she bit her way through the leash and we had to start all over again.

TRAPS

If you can't get close enough to try anything else, a trap might do it. The trick is to use irresistible food as a lure (more about that in the Food post), and to be very, very patient. This rescue group did an amazing job here.

DRUGS

Rescuers hate using them. Not just because it feels like admitting defeat, but because they can end in tragedy. More on that at the Drug Dos and Don'ts post.