Nassau (Part II): The Rescue

(Did you miss Part I?)

Six PM. Usual feeding time. Nassau--so named because that empty lot where she lived, if living it can be called, is on the way to Fort Nassau--came out as soon as she heard my car, approached me as fearlessly as the day before.

Wish I could say the same for me.

Fear makes us tentative, hesitant. Fear stinks of adrenaline, the scent-tag of aggression. I had to get rid of the stink, or I'd get bitten again. Worse, I'd never get Nassau in the car.

Nassau (Part I): The Lesson

Nassau was the beginning of my formal training in dog behavior. I didn't even believe in dog trainers. In my mind, they were all nasty control freaks that used dogs as an outlet for their inferiority complexes, forced them to perform circus tricks for human entertainment. Punishment. Whips.

I had a lot to learn. And Nassau didn't waste time teaching me.

She bit me the first time I met her.

Black & White Sunday

This has been a serendipitous Sunday. One of these serendipities is finding Black & White Sunday, via... Well, I guess I took the long way, but the hop is hosted by Sugar the Golden Retriever and Nola Dachshund, and it'll be a regular feature in Life In Dogs.

Starting today. Meet Sam.

Sam at St. Joris, January 2014
Hard to believe this 22-kilo dog was not so long ago a tiny puppy that fit in my hand.

Thanks for the visit, and be sure to stop by the other awesome B&W bloggers. Beautiful photos, wonderful blogs.