She Barked!

            At long last, after a series of singing cries (because Grandma had run out of treats), Tzipporah barked! She surprised us, but even more than that she surprised herself, and ran back to her bed in the living room empty-pawed. Even the next day, she still seemed exhausted by the whole experience. What was that noise? Did it really come from me? And how is it possible for Grandma to run out of treats?!

            It was a lone bark, at least so far, and even her cries have been muted in the aftermath (it’s possible that Grandma has been handing out extra treats without telling me), but it’s good to know that her barking machinery works, should she want to use it at some point.

            But I keep getting impatient. She still has no idea why I sometimes pick her up just to hold her for a little while (we watched an episode of a crime drama set among puppy mills in France and it almost broke me, and I needed a hug). But I can hold her for just a little while before she starts looking for any possible escape route. And then, when she finally gets free, she starts running back to her bed, stops and turns around to give me a dirty look, and then continues on her way.

            I got a little bit desperate at one point and picked up her stuffed puppy to hold it on my lap for a while. I gave the stuffed puppy some ear-scratches and head pats, and then set it down in the second doggy bed and gently covered it with one of the doggy blankets. Tzipporah found the whole drama fascinating, but I’m not sure what she learned from it, except that her mommy is weird, which she already knew.

            I have to keep reminding myself that any progress Tzipporah makes is miraculous and we’re not on a clock here, but I still have no idea what she’s thinking when she stares at me endlessly. Is she watching me so closely because she likes me and wants to know me better? Or because she’s wary of me and needs to be on her guard? Or because I’m just that fascinating? She sees me staring at the TV quite a lot, though, so maybe she’s just mimicking me.

            The thing is, Tzipporah really does keep making progress, even if the pace feels slow to me. During her first visit to the groomer, back in the winter, she panicked when they tried to trim the hair on her front paws, so we were told to give her some ACE (doggy Xanax) before her next visit. So this time, before we brought her for her second visit to the groomer last week, Mom broke an ACE in half and stuffed it into a piece of chicken, which Tzipporah ate with gusto. When we went to pick Tzipporah up later in the day, the groomer said everything went well, even though Tzipporah needed a “summer cut” to deal with the knots (I haven’t wanted to bother her with too much combing), which meant she was mostly shaved down to the nubs. And then, instead of handing her directly to us, the groomer put Tzippy on the floor. I was about to say, no, don’t do it, she’ll never come to me and we’ll have to chase her around the room, but Tzippy walked straight over to me without hesitation. I almost cried, because she never does that in real life! She doesn’t respond to her name, or to any other command, but there, given the choice to roam free or find one of her people, she chose a people. Which means she knows who I am, and at least prefers me to the person wielding the scissors. She even showed signs of trying to climb into the front seat of the car on the way home (her doggy seatbelt stopped her from getting too far).

When we got home, I found the half pill of ACE sitting next to her bed, untouched. So, next time we can go with peanut butter, or maybe she doesn’t need the ACE at all. In just those few months, she’s made so much progress that she managed her haircut completely unmedicated, and without panic.

            And, since she has very little hair right now, I decided to add hair combing to her daily routine, along with the tooth brushing. She still thinks the toothbrush is a chicken paste delivery system and doesn’t understand why I insist on rubbing it into her teeth, but even combing the hair on her ears made her look at me like I was Cruella Deville. And yet I persisted.

            Oh, and there was another big step forward! One night when we had chicken for dinner, I saved some for her, but instead of just handing it all to her at once, I gave her a small piece of chicken in her bed, to hook her, and then I scattered pieces at various distances from her bed. It took her a little while to gather her courage, but eventually she found the pieces of chicken that were within two feet of her bed (three feet away was still too far), and just seeing her get out of bed while I was still sitting there in front of her was exhilarating.

I have to keep reminding myself that all of this effort is worth it, because even if I’m feeling impatient or grumpy, as long as I keep trying, progress keeps happening. For both of us.

If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.

            Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?

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About rachelmankowitz

I am a fiction writer, a writing coach, and an obsessive chronicler of my dogs' lives.

79 responses »

  1. This update is exactly the story I needed to read today.

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  2. Tzipporah and you are achieving breakthroughs (and maybe her finally barking could also be called a barkthrough!) Sounds like she’s finding (or closer to finding) her voice, building confidence and improving. Happy for and proud of both of you; your effort is definitely worth it.

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  3. That’s wonderful! 😊 I think you’re just going to have to be really patient with this little one.

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  4. What a sweet post. Baby steps are still steps 🙂

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  5. Had a haircut. Unmedicated. Placed on the floor. And she chose you. So much progress!!!!

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  6. Well this was a joyous read. Praise Tzippy’s progress. 😁🐶🙌

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  7. Glad she chose you! Yay! Was there any doubt?

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  8. Definitely progress which is wonderful

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  9. Slowly but surely, she’s coming round to understanding it’s her new forever home.

    Best wishes, Pete.

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  10. It’s wonderful to see a traumatized dog slowly come out of their shell. You’ve done so well, I know how hard it is to be patient. I’ve had to have a lot of patience with my Lyra – she doesn’t even have the excuse of being traumatized as I had her as a puppy. She’s been a nightmare to train – she has no interest in pleasing me and is only affectionate when she feels like it – I think she may be a cat in disguise! But I love her independent spirit and I wouldn’t have her any different.

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  11. Your patience is extraordinary – Tzipporah is a lucky dog! Love the haircut, and the Cruella reference was perfect!- Here’s to more chicken steps and exploration! 💖🐕

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  12. Yay and congratulations! Puppy progress. I think she is definitely warming up to you. In her own cautious way she just can’t let you know that. You’re doing great! Enjoy her.

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  13. Keep at it. Progress is progress – you can quote me on that.

    Onward.

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  14. great progress, Rachel🙌🏽

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  15. Awesome! Good job, mom!

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  16. Thank you for sharing your lovely Tzipporah. Kudos for your patience and loving care in giving her the time she needs to heal.

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  17. What a sweet pup! Rachel, my pup (who looks a lot like yours) is 1.5 yo and won’t let me cuddle with him either — although, at times, I feel we may be making some progress in that direction. Guess it just takes some dogs a little more time. 🐶

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  18. dogs ‘tell us’ as they trust us. They can’t tell us exactly what happened before, so we try to guess, or help them know we won’t imprison them in a crate, or hit, or yell, but it takes so long for them to either get past the past or accept us, or both. I’d say things are improving.

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  19. Sounds like you both are making progress. Woof-woof!

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  20. How wonderful, Rachel!

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  21. Bless her. I remember the first time Barney barked, he was quite surprised and scared himself!
    Maya has a deep bark, and just one ‘gruff’ is enough to make other dogs take notice!

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  22. Great baby steps, especially her coming to you at the groomers. Well her spots almost do look dalmatian-ish! Unfortunately, I’ve had to shave pups down like that because of all the knots right close to their skin, too.
    Anyhow, keep being patient. She’s coming around.

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  23. That is progress! With true rescue dogs (not just those who have been adopted, contrary to what a lot of people say), patience is the key. Dogs who have been traumatized need a lot of time to progress, and many of them never act entirely like other dogs. But we still love them, and you have done a great job of accepting her for who she is. And that is the greatest gift of all!

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  24. Thanks for the update! I was wondering how Tzipporah was doing. I worry all the time whether Murphy is moving at the right pace. It’s nice to hear how other pups are progressing. Maybe you could write a guideline for foster pawrents describing the journey of rehabilitating a rescue. ❤️

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  25. She is such a cutie! Baby steps! She trusts you, and is finding her way, her voice, and knows you love her unconditionally. 💜🤗🐾

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  26. They sure look happy in your home

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  27. I’m so glad to hear about all the break throughs. No matter how small, each is a win and gives more to build on. I love how patient you are!

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  28. Yup: progress for both of you! Great to hear (though I knew your patience and love would win her over in time).

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  29. You’re doing great, Rachel—Tzipporah’s lucky to have you!

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  30. So glad she barked for you

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  31. 👏👏👏 Progress!

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  32. I wish I did daily toothbrushing! Instead I only do it 1-2x a week. I will resolve to try more often. Benji chews up toothbrushes like they’re a chew toy, so I use the plastic ones that go over your finger.

    I also do 20 minutes of training each night before bed. Benji loves to have an interactive time (school is fun), and Gryphon the cat gets in on his training too.

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  33. “as long as I keep trying, progress keeps happening. For both of us”–well said!

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