The sad thing about sad things

I have been composing this piece for many months in my mind, knowing that I would have to write it at some date, and hoping that date would never actually arrive. And yet it has. It’s this Sunday.

It is with huge sadness that my family and I are having to give up Ted.

Ted, a standard-sized Goldendoodle, has been at the centre of our family life since we rehomed him in June of last year. He is beautiful to look at, and indeed I have often described him as a ‘Disney-dog’. Outside of our house he walks beautifully on the lead and plays nicely with all other dogs, and delightfully when approached by strangers, both young and old, he sits patiently to be stroked.

This is his ‘public’ persona. In private – the one that me, my wife and my three kids get to see – he is quite different. In our home Ted emits a low-level growl on approach. This quickly becomes a snarl if not heeded, and rapidly progresses to snapping and biting. We are a dog-loving family and have had large dogs in the past. He is clearly anxious and so we have dealt with it by giving him the benefit of a wide berth.

But that isn’t all. Every so often he skips the warnings and goes straight for the bite. A few months ago he walked up to my eldest son, who had his back to him, and bit him on the backside. It was completely unprompted and without warning signs. The rest of my family have suffered his outbursts too. My wife walked past him and he clamped down on her wrist. When seemingly asleep Ted jumped up and took a large lump out of my youngest son’s arm, which is now permanently scarred.

Last week, during the heat, I was cooling him down with pieces of frozen watermelon (which he loves). Upon being given the third piece he bit down hard on my right hand, using my leg to lever himself up. (Yup - literally biting the hand that feeds him.)

We tolerated this challenging behaviour all through lockdown because we didn’t have visitors inside our home, but now that our doors are open once more (thankfully), my huge fear is that perhaps a child who has only been used to stroking and playing with Ted outside, might absentmindedly bend down and stroke him inside our home, like you would a less anxious pet, and the worst happens.

We’ve had him scanned to see if there is an underlying health issue. We have tried vets, trainers, behaviourists, and medication. Nothing has worked.

Our sad realisation is that we are going to have to give him up. This Sunday he will be going to live with a passionate and patient vet, who is hopefully better placed to coax Ted into a more stable place and help him to shine.

We’ll be walking him, fussing him, and treating him as normal up until then. Because he’s still ‘our Ted’. But this is the really sad thing, he remains a very anxious dog that carries with him issues from previous experiences. Of course, a change of owner alone might not solve his problems, but we’re just hoping that with a fresh start, with lots of space, lots of professional help and no visitors to disturb him, that he can become the happy-go-lucky dog he deserves to be.