Happy Birthday, Casper!

October 11 changed Grace's and my world forever. It's the day Casper became our first baby, and ever since we have celebrated his adoption day as his "birthday."

This is our first October 11 without him, and I am more grateful than ever for him changing my life. 

I have noticed some new readers around here (hi and thank you!!), and I realized that someone coming to my blog for the first time might not know about the sweet boy that is the reason Have Dog, Will Drive exists.

So, if you don't know his story, I encourage you to make a big mug of tea or coffee and read about a very special guy, Casper Baldridge. I've linked my posts about him below (fair warning, they're all pretty long!).

Introducing Casper and his story

Losing Casper suddenly

Our journey in rehabilitating Casper after years of abuse

Snuggle the doggos in your life extra close today. And, in case anyone out there is still waiting for more Alaska trip posts (ha!), they are coming! I have had some pretty major life changes happening (all good) but promise to be back to blogging more regularly soon.

xoxo

Our Experience in Dealing with Dog Aggression

Let me start by saying that I kind of hate the title of this blog post. I had originally titled it, "Our Training Journey with Casper," which sounds much more cheerful to me. But when I thought about it, the whole point of writing this post is to shed light on what it was like to have a dog with pretty serious dog aggression in the hopes of helping someone who is dealing with that issue. So I wanted to give this post a title that might help others find it. Now that that's out of the way, let me tell you about the sweetest dog in the world :)

If you've read my other posts about Casper (or met him in person), then you already know that he was an angel baby around all humans. Grace and I were always so thankful for that. However, he REALLY could not be around other dogs. We would always have (well meaning) people say to us, "but my dog is SO chill--I'm sure Casper will like him!" And sadly, we always had to respond, "No . . . seriously, Casper will try to kill your dog." But here's the good news: we were able to get Casper's issues in check and give him a peaceful life. It taught me that all things can be redeemed, and I am so grateful for all that we learned in the process.

When I started Have Dog, Will Drive, I knew that I wanted to share about this aspect of our lives with Casper, because while it felt unique (and I'll admit, at times a little isolating) to us, I know there are many others who deal with this to varying degrees. I also have to issue a disclaimer here: our experience is just that--our experience. Every dog is one-of-a-kind. What worked for us might not work for another dog. And there's a lot we won't ever know about Casper's past or what made him tick. I'm sure there are people reading this thinking, "how irresponsible that you would keep a dangerous dog that could hurt someone else's pet." Sorry not sorry, haha! Casper never hurt a fly in the years we had him. Not to toot our own horn, but we were ultra responsible when it came to his safety and the safety of other dogs. We really weren't equipped for his issues at ALL when we brought him home, but we quickly got up to speed and caring for him changed our lives. He's in heaven now, and he's not afraid anymore. He was often stressed and afraid during his time on earth. But we let him spend his final years in a loving place where he didn't have to be as scared, and I will never apologize for that.

Stepping down from my soapbox now.

In case this is the first post you're reading about sweet Casper, here's a little bit of background. He was an 80-pound older pit bull with a dark past. He was most likely fought on an amateur level, and judging by his scars, he lost most of his fights. We didn't know he had dog aggression when we adopted him. However, it quickly became apparent on walks that he would hulk out when he got near another dog. For the first year or so that we had him, going on walks was super stressful. He didn't like it, we didn't like it, and we lived in fear of him having a bad encounter with another dog. We walked him with a muzzle for awhile. 

Within a few months, we started working with a trainer (who was perfectly nice, but I don't recommend and won't link here) who was all about positive reinforcement. She claimed to have worked with many aggressive dogs in the past, but we just didn't see any progress. Casper stumped a lot of dog trainers and behavioralists--they would meet him and say "he's so sweet, like a therapy dog; I can't imagine that he's aggressive." This particular trainer would use a lifelike stuffed animal dog to try to replicate Casper's issues in a controlled setting, but he wouldn't react. We spent hours (and thousands of dollars) getting him to essentially perform tricks and be "comfortable" with Grace as his handler (he was already comfortable before we began the training).

If you can't already tell, I am now a firm believer that this type of training does NOT work for many dogs--especially dogs that are large/have a lot of physical strength, are smart and/or stubborn, or have preexisting behavioral issues. Casper checked all of those boxes. Positive reinforcement training--that is, mostly just giving treats for good behavior--only exacerbated his problems, as we later would learn.

Around the year and a half mark of having Casper, we had pretty much resigned ourselves to his issues. And we were okay with it. Training was going nowhere; he was more terrified and aggressive toward other dogs than ever. We just said to each other, "This is okay. He doesn't like other dogs. He doesn't WANT to like other dogs. What we need to do is just keep him isolated from all dogs and let him live the rest of his life in peace." Right about this time, we got a recommendation from Grace's then-boss. She had heard about a very special dog trainer/dog psychologist who worked in rehabilitating abused dogs and dealing with aggression issues. Honestly, we were skeptical. But we didn't have much to lose (other than more money down the drain, haha) and decided to try it.

Enter Brandon Fouché. There are one or two things that we don't do that Brandon recommended, but for the most part, we drank the "Fouché Way" kool-aid and are big believers in his methods. This post isn't intended as a promotion of his services or a review necessarily; I'm just sharing our experience.

When we contacted Brandon's office, they recommended that we leave Casper for a full-day evaluation, during which he would be integrated with Brandon's "pack." So we dropped him off in the morning. During that entire day, Grace and I were SO nervous. Texting each other things like, "what if Casper hurts or kills one of Brandon's pack dogs? What if we made a huge mistake?" We had read the glowing reviews of people saying he'd changed their dog's life, but it seemed too good to be true. When we went to pick him up, we were incredibly stressed and expecting the worst. We walked into Brandon's office and were shocked, amazed, and crying at the videos Brandon had of Casper calmly standing in the middle of a group of dogs, unflinching. It was unreal. However, Brandon did not "fix" Casper, and it's not like we could immediately release Casper into a crowded dog park. While some of Brandon's testimonials make it sound that way, it's not a brainwashing of your dog so that they no longer have issues. The real work only begins when you pick up your dog from Brandon's facility. But we were willing to put in the work, and it did change our lives with Casper and his relationship with the world and other dogs.

We ended up having about a three-hour training session with Brandon that afternoon--without Casper. The training was for us. We had to learn how to be the alphas. Brandon explained to us that dogs are really just "wolves in dogs' clothing." The pack mentality is so ingrained, and we need to work with that rather than against it. I won't list all of the details here (feel free to Contact me if you want more information about our experience), but basically, Brandon had a strict set of rules for our interactions with Casper. The position he needed to be in the group on our walks, the way we should talk to him, etc. etc.--these were all dictated by Casper's natural position in a pack setting, which Brandon evaluated (in case you're curious, he found that Casper was mentally submissive but physically dominant). All of Brandon's rules were overall fairly minor changes. But they had a dramatic effect. Casper no longer acted fearfully on our walks. We could pass by another dog within a few feet without any reaction. While we understood that because of Casper's past, he would never ENJOY interacting with another dog, it was no longer scary if another dog was nearby. We didn't try to get him to make dog friends, but being able to just go outside with him took the biggest weight off of our shoulders. Casper finally was able to relax because we were no longer (unknowingly) giving him the signal that he needed to protect us. It changed everything.

I'll be the first to admit that the idea of not giving treats for good behavior and not using positive reinforcement didn't appeal to me because it seemed "mean." I wanted to be a loving dog mom, not strict and withholding. But what Brandon advocates is not coldness toward your dog, it's just the implementation of boundaries that will make your dog feel safe and secure in your "pack." I should also emphasize that he doesn't use any physical negative reinforcement--no physical contact, shock collars, etc. It's all about using a commanding voice, using your presence and the way you position yourself on a walk to show your dominance in the pack, and other (non-hurtful!) techniques. I would never, ever, recommend any training method that involved pain for a dog. But having rehabilitated a dog with pretty serious issues, I can confidently say that using purely positive reinforcement isn't doing them or you any favors (in most cases).

The reason why positive reinforcement isn't great (for large/smart/stubborn/aggressive dogs; I'm not commenting on ALL dogs) is because when you give them a treat for just sitting or doing a mindless trick, you're essentially telling them, "you are smarter than I am. You deserve a treat just for doing something that you already know how to do. I praise you because you are the leader of this pack." While yes, in the moment the dog enjoys the treat, it comes with mental baggage for them. It sounds silly, but the dog now thinks, "I am supreme. I get treats for doing something as simple as sitting or doing the 'shake' trick that humans like so much. If they are giving me treats for this simple behavior, then they must be beneath me. Poor humans. I must protect and defend them, and I must lead them on all adventures and outings from the pack den." This leads to increased aggression, stress, and unwanted dominant behavior from the dog. Most dogs are happier in a more lowly pack position--Casper definitely was! This isn't to say you can never give treats, but in my experience it's actually better to give them for no reason, not as a reward. Then, you appear as a benevolent leader to the dog, giving treats when YOU feel like it. If they earn the treat, then they get higher status in the pack. That signals to them that they can climb the ladder and eventually become the alpha, which is unstable for them and stressful. It's all about the way dogs think--which is very different from humans!

I asked Grace whether she had any input for this post, and here is what she said: "If you bring home your dream dog and it later turns out that the dog has some issues, do not despair. If your first attempt working with a trainer doesn't fix anything, do not despair. If your second attempt doesn't work either, do not despair." So true. Another thing Grace says that I really agree with is that if you have a "problem dog," own that label! We were always honest and upfront with anyone who would ask about Casper's issues. On walks, we'd cross the street from a block away if we saw another dog coming down the sidewalk. If people asked if their dog could meet our dog, we didn't beat around the bush--"no, sorry--he's not good with other dogs." I was initially in the camp of thinking this was embarrassing or worrying that people would think I was irresponsible for taking a dog on walks around the neighborhood if he wasn't good with other dogs. But now having seen people on walks who clearly do have a "problem dog" but don't say anything until you're about to pass them and their dog snarls at you, I understand that it IS the responsible thing to do to just be open with friends and strangers that your dog needs space, that he's not good with meeting dogs, etc. Yes, you might get some nervous glances when you say that out loud to a stranger on the street, but it's just so much better to be honest than to act like everything is fine and then have your dog snap at another dog or a person.

One last thing Grace said that I think is so important is that humans can damage dogs and abuse them, but by the same token they can also build them up. Dogs evolved to have us as their masters. Bully breeds especially REALLY want to please. They can be so devastatingly broken by people, but they also respond to and crave love and will be directed by that just as much as they are shaped by abuse, if that's what they experience. 

If you have a dog with aggression issues, there is hope! However, please take this post for exactly what it is: just a chronicle of our time with Casper and what we went through in getting him to a better place mentally. Positive reinforcement might be right for your dog. Brandon's methods might not work. There's no "magic" to any of this. What I will advocate for, though, is working to better understand dog psychology in the course of any training regimen. While dogs did evolve with us, there are still parts of the way they think that run counter to what humans might assume. Dogs are amazing creatures. Wishing you the best of luck wherever you are on your training journey!

The Life of Casper

I've thought over and over about how to start writing this post, trying to come up with something succinct and eloquent to capture how I'm feeling and everything that's happened. I can't. What I can say is: our beloved Casper died this past Saturday, June 17, 2017. We miss him so much. We will always love him.

Grace and I are overwhelmed by the weight of our grief, but I also want to emphasize right away how much PEACE we have felt over the past few days. Peace when it doesn't make sense; inexplicable peace. And we are so, so grateful for the life of Casper and for each other.

Naturally, many people have wondered what happened. Friends in LA had seen him just a few days before he died, and they didn't notice anything wrong. Neither did we. Though the memories of his last days are still extremely confusing and painful for me, I want to share them here because I know that people are curious, which is understandable.

On Wednesday, three days before he died, we saw that there was blood in his urine. But otherwise, he had no symptoms. I noticed it first, while Grace was at work. I immediately called the vet, even before I told Grace. The vet said that it was troubling but not an emergency; we could come in the next day for an appointment. We did, on Thursday evening, and they said he looked otherwise healthy but they took some urine and blood samples to do some testing. Maybe he had a urinary tract infection or a kidney infection, the vet thought. We told them that we were supposed to go out of town the next day (with Casper), and we asked whether we still should. They said yes, absolutely. We should continue normal activities. I'm not including this detail because we blame our vet in any way. It just gives context for why we would go out of town when our dog was showing some signs of health issues.

So on Friday, June 16, we drove to Joshua Tree. We had rented a cabin down a dirt road to enjoy a quiet getaway for my birthday, which was the 17th. Casper snoozed in the back of Grace's car on the drive, and when we got there, he sniffed around curiously and enjoyed the large amount of land to roam off-leash. We noticed he was a little off; he was still peeing blood, and his back legs seemed weak. We also got a voicemail from the vet telling us that the test results had come back, and his kidney, liver, and proteins levels were a little high, but that they still couldn't tell what was wrong based on that. We tried to enjoy the desert and stay calm and love on our sweet pup.

In the evening, we decided to order some pizza from a place in Joshua Tree that we really like. As I mentioned, our rental house was down a dirt road, so we had to drive to go pick it up. Along the way, we took a wrong turn, and we ended up careening down what was essentially an ATV trail, terrified. The sun was setting and we had no cell service. Casper was in the back of the car, wondering what on earth his mamas were doing. We eventually made our way back to safer ground (at one point, I had to get out of the car and direct Grace as she backed out around some boulders . . . again, terrifying), and we decided to ditch the pizza idea. We just headed back to the house, shaky and exhausted. As we hopped out of the car, we saw the most gorgeous purple sky. I pulled out my camera and snapped some photos of Casper against the backdrop. We didn't know it, but that would be his last sunset, and those photos were some of the last we'd take of him. We will cherish them forever, and we are so thankful for the wild series of events that led us to that perfect moment with the sunset and Casper. We even played a little fetch. He was a bit lethargic, but he still enthusiastically tried to bite apart the stick we threw for him. We're so glad we got to do that one last time.

That night, we just hung out and rested with Casper. He was cold, and we wrapped him in a blanket. We couldn't really get him to eat, even when I cooked him an egg and put it in his food bowl. I actually don't remember that much of what I was thinking that night. We were worried about him, but we definitely hadn't given up hope. But I do remember lying down on the floor beside him and crying hot tears into his neck. He would always get nervous when we cried and try to comfort us and lick our tears away, so I held my breath, not wanting to upset him. 

The next morning (my birthday), I woke up around 5:45am to Grace opening the door of the cabin to let Casper out. A couple minutes later, she poked her head back in--"I need you. Casper can't walk." I tore out of bed and out the door. He was weak, his back legs falling out from under him. But we held him up, willed him to walk, and encouraged him. He eventually was able to go to the bathroom. Maybe his legs are just sleepy since it's early, I thought. We took him back inside and lifted him up and put him in the bed. He and Grace fell back asleep instantly, both of them breathing heavy and deep. I stayed up, said some prayers for Casper, and took some photos of that sweet last nap. Again, we didn't know for sure that any of these things were the "last." But as time went on, we kind of knew. By around 6:30 or 7am, I was pretty sure this was Casper's last day on this earth. But I clung to hope at the same time.

Baby boy resting with his mama in his final hours on earth

Around 8am, Grace and Casper woke back up. 8am was also the time that the vet in Joshua Tree opened, as well as our vet in West Hollywood. I called them both, seeing if there were appointments available, explaining how things had progressed, and asking what to do. During this time, a lot of confusion and panic set in for me, as I found that no vets--even the emergency ones--had any availability for hours, and we were hours from home. Shaky, I called vet after vet--Joshua Tree, Palm Springs, Yucca Valley, LA. I know now that we weren't meant to find a vet, that sweet Casper's last hours were never meant to be spent in a place where he'd be scared or uncomfortable. But I felt helpless. While I was on the phone, Casper started showing some telltale signs that the end might be near. Gasping, crying out, and not being able to control some bodily functions. Shaking and shuddering. It was so scary (and I'm crying again as I write this). But Grace and I looked at each other and we knew what to do. Today was going to be one of the worst days we had experienced, and we wanted to go home. We love Joshua Tree, but we didn't want to be out there far away from everyone we knew. Grace stayed by Casper's side while I packed up the cabin as fast as I could. I put on clothes, and then I went to Casper's side. Grace ran out to get the air conditioning going in the car so that Casper wouldn't have to sit in a hot car while it cooled down. Once we were packed up and the car was ready, we had to get him to it. I should mention that he was completely paralyzed at this point, other than breathing and blinking. He couldn't lift his head or neck or stand up. I scooped my arms under him and carried him to the car. I don't know where the strength came from, because I'd never carried him that far before and he was a very meaty boy. Much later, I would realize how many muscles I pulled and how sore I was from that journey with him, but I wouldn't change a thing.

In shock and filled with adrenaline, we set off toward LA. It's about a two and a half hour drive. We wanted to take him home, and we prayed out loud that he would make it back with us. I sat in the back of the car with Casper, cradling him, and Grace was in the front seat, driving with her left hand and reaching around with her right to hold his front paw. I stroked his face, telling him every minute how brave and strong he was and how much we loved him. Somehow, I didn't cry. I didn't want him to think we needed him to protect us. I wanted him to know we were okay and we would take care of him. We could tell he was in pain and his breathing was shallow. As the minutes passed, I told Grace I didn't think we were going to make it home with him, and we started telling him that he could go, and we would be okay, and he had been such a good dog. I could feel his little breaths on my arm until they stopped, and I told Grace, "he's gone."

Our angel.

Grace was amazing during this. She drove safely and steadily to get us home. After Casper passed, we still had about 2 hours left to LA. We just drove on, and I held him the whole time. We talked and said all that we were thankful for. We prayed for his life and his spirit. Even then, we felt peace washing over us, knowing that he was no longer in pain. While we were in the car we called our families and some of the people who knew him, breaking down each time, but knowing that this was only so hard because Casper is SO loved. Once we got back to LA, we drove straight to our vet, and they knew what to do and made it easy for us. Then we had to drive home without our dog and start mourning and celebrating his life.

The rest of that day was pretty surreal. I kept getting happy birthday texts from people who hadn't heard the news, which was so sweet but also so emotionally confusing. We had asked our families and a couple of friends to begin spreading the news, but we decided that we were going to share via social media to cut down on the lag time and hopefully avoid having to say the words out loud any more that day. We both used photos from the sunset pictures I had taken the night before, and we held hands and pressed send at the same time. A little while after that, the vet called us to talk about what might have been going on with Casper's health. Based on how everything happened, it's likely that he had some kind of cancer in his organs that caused something to rupture, like his spleen. The details aren't super important to us. While we're shocked that he's no longer with us, we know that grasping for answers about his death won't change anything. We are choosing to focus on his life.

The love we have felt from our families, friends, and even strangers in the days that followed is impossible to put into words. We've had friends show up unannounced on our doorstep for hugs, knowing we'd probably say no if they asked, but knowing we needed it. We have more food than we can eat. We are putting flowers in blender cups and cocktail shakers because we ran out of vases. We even had a friend offer us an already-paid-for vacation to Yosemite. We have been absolutely covered in love and support, and what means the most is that Casper generated that love. Seeing it in physical form has been so sweet. He multiplied the love in our lives exponentially, and we will be forever grateful. 

One thing that has been really helpful is hearing from people that have been through this type of loss before. Grace talked to her amazing grandparents, who have been married for 72 years (!!) and have had dogs for the vast majority of that time. We also got some great advice from Grace's cousin Mary, who went through a devastating loss of her dog of many years. She really emphasized that we should mourn him properly, and we have been focusing on doing just that.

On Sunday morning, our first morning waking up without him, we drove to our favorite beach in Malibu. Grace's dad (who is an Episcopal priest) wrote us a beautiful prayer for Casper that we read out loud on the beach, along with some readings he sent about loss and animals. We wrote Casper's name in the sand, with a backwards "E" because that's how Grace always wrote cards when she signed them from Casper to me.

We had a gathering of friends later that day, and we laid out photos of Casper, his favorite toys, a can of salmon and some string cheese (his favorite foods), his leash and collar, etc. We were surrounded by people all afternoon, and it really lifted our spirits. People told stories--some that I had never even heard--and brought their own photos, some that I'd never even seen. The fridge was overflowing with food that people brought us. I cried on a lot of people (literally) that day. It was such a true picture of community. Grace said a few words that I want to summarize here: because so many of our friends in LA have moved here from somewhere else, we're all each other's family out here. And Casper was the family dog. 

I took this screenshot from Grace's Instagram story, hence the writing on the photo. The portrait was my graduation present from Berkeley last year; Grace commissioned it and surprised me with it. We feel even luckier to have it now.

We are grateful for a lot of things, more than I can capture here. One of the biggest ones is that Casper was with us when he died. He didn't like going to the vet. He loved road trips. That he passed away while we were in the car, surrounded by mountains, not in traffic, is beautiful. He was surrounded by love until the very end. I can't even think about this happening on a weekday while we'd been at work and he was alone. What a beautiful gift. He left us in the car, but he will always be in the car with us. On every trip. On the road to Alaska. He will never miss a single one.

And while I think a lot of people see it as especially tragic that this happened on my birthday, I honestly don't think of it that way. June 17th tends to be beautiful, no matter where in the world I've spent it. I've always been blessed with a warm, late spring/early summer, blue-sky birthday. And I'm so glad Casper got to feel and see that on his last day on earth. I love Casper so much, and for my birthday this year, I got to see him and kiss his snout one last time. I'm thankful.

It's also not lost on us how lucky we are to have each other. I have never felt closer to Grace than in these past few days. I feel like we are two peas in the same pod of mourning, and our thoughts and words flow effortlessly between us almost telepathically. We will look at each other and just know what the other is thinking, finishing each other's sentences about memories of our sweet boy. We have been on the exact same page on every decision we've had to make and every step we've taken. We aren't taking any of that for granted.

Another thing we are so grateful for is that we still feel Casper with us all the time. We know he's resting easy and sleeping in SO late. We still feel his presence in big, powerful ways that are almost hard to believe. It gives us so much joy, confidence, and purpose to know that he's watching over us and right beside us.

I have a pretty unbelievable (but true) story to illustrate this. Starting on Saturday night, one of the few things that has brought us comfort is watching old episodes of RuPaul's Drag Race. Whether you're a fan of this particular show or not, I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to the experience of re-watching "comfort food" TV when you're down. We used to always watch the show with Casper on the couch beside us, so it's special in that sense as well. It's such a positive, uplifting show, and we already knew the winners of each season, so it was really nice to watch something with no surprises and no sad moments. 

Well, on Sunday night, our first full day without Casper, we went out to run some errands, one of our first times leaving the house. As we drove back to Grace's, with the sun setting, we saw none other than RUPAUL CHARLES IN THE FLESH parked just up the street from Grace's house!!! He was sitting in his car, just looking serenely straight ahead like he was waiting for someone. He had tinted windows, but his driver's side window was rolled down, so we could see him clearly. We are huge fans and would have always been thrilled to catch a glimpse of him around the neighborhood (Grace and I both live in West Hollywood, so it's not the strangest place to see an LGBT icon). But for it to happen on our first full day without Casper, at a time when we're watching 10 episodes a day to comfort ourselves, was truly divine. We instantly knew that Casper had sent him to us; that Casper had seen how sad we were and knew how much it would cheer us up to see RuPaul. We drove by twice just to make sure it was really him, and it was. We could not believe it. We felt waves of peace crashing over us, knowing with so much certainty that Casper was in heaven, looking at us and smiling his little grin, feeling very pleased with himself for pulling off such a big surprise.

A question that naturally comes up is: what will become of "Have Dog, Will Drive"? I started this blog just weeks ago with the intention of sharing my travels with Grace and Casper. But just because his earthly presence has left us doesn't mean that he won't be with us on our road trips and adventures. I promise not to turn this into a blog of ghost dog sightings. But I will keep writing. And I want to still share what we learned about having a dog like Casper in the hopes that it can help someone else adopt a pet like him. 

Finally, a HUGE thank you to all of the people who have supported us near and far. We will still be leaning on you going forward, and we can't thank you enough. We love you, and Casper loved you. He loved unconditionally and indiscriminately. Elderly people and babies, friends and strangers, people we met who were living on the street or in abandoned buildings, neighbors whose names we never knew but who knew Casper's name and would call to him from across the street with a huge smile on their face. We are going to try our best to love like he did going forward. He makes us so proud, even still.

Meet Casper!

For anyone that might be reading who doesn't know Casper, or even for those who do, I wanted to take a minute today to formally introduce him on Have Dog, Will Drive! He is the dog behind that title and a lot of the inspiration for Grace and me to get outside more and explore new places.

Casper is a special guy, and he is beloved by many. I thought a good way to introduce him would be to answer some questions we often get about him:

1. When/where did you get him, and how old is he? Grace adopted Casper on October 11, 2014, at the West LA Animal Shelter. We first visited him about a week prior, when Grace suggested we go check out our local animal shelter to see what kind of volunteer opportunities they had available (famous last words). We decided to stroll the hallways of kennels and just visit some pooches that were up for adoption, when we noticed this one dog hiding in the back of his kennel looking dejected. Every other dog was coming up to the front of the gate, putting their paws up, smiling, and generally hamming it up. But this one (at the time, temporarily named Logan by the shelter) looked depressed and mangy, and the little schedule/notepad outside his door said that he hadn't finished any of his meals in the past few days. Also on a sign outside the door, there was a message that said something like "Before You Walk Away! Please give this dog a chance. He is a gentleman of a dog, and all the volunteers love walking him." That made Grace's heart skip a beat, because her family had always described their dog Max (who passed away about a year and a half before this) as a "gentleman." Below is a photo of Grace with Casper for the first time, when we got to take him out of the kennel and play with him.

He was extremely skittish and would not make eye contact with us. He was also covered in scabs and scars. I'll admit, he didn't seem like much. But Grace felt something tugging at her heartstrings, and though we didn't adopt him right then, over the next week she went back to visit him every morning before work (I was back in Berkeley at this point). On the next Saturday, she went back and brought him home! He was stiff and nervous at first, not sure what this new life was going to be. But he quickly warmed up, going from being super shy to a super clingy, 65-pound (now 80; he was malnourished at the time) lap dog. Based on our vet's estimation, we think he is about 9 years old at this point, and we celebrate his "birthday" on October 11, his adoption day.

2. What happened to him in the past, and why was he in the shelter as an older dog? We don't have a full answer to this question, but we have pieced a backstory together through a few different clues. Before Casper was brought to the shelter, he was found running loose in West LA. He was beat up and skinny. It turned out, he did have a microchip (the little chip in dogs' ears that give information to shelters and vets if they run away or get lost), and the shelter called the number associated with it. Whoever answered told them that yes, he was their dog, but they didn't want him anymore. It's like a knife to the heart hearing that about my precious pup, but some people just do not have compassion for animals (as my dad likes to say, they're "going to a hot place"). Casper has a lot of teeth mark scars on his body--two in between his eyes, a few on his back legs, and some rough scar tissue on his ears and tail. Based on this, it seems like he was part of an amateur fighting situation but likely wasn't very good at it. He was also nervous when we first got him, and was afraid of belts, indicating he was beaten with one. Again, it breaks my heart. But that's just the reality of his life for about 6-7 years before he ended up with us. Below are a few photos that showed what he looked like when we first got him--because I was in Berkeley for most of this time, most of what I have are screenshots of Snapchats and Instagrams and grainy photos!

Just days after we adopted him; he is wearing a bow tie but his snout is covered in scabs

3. With a dark past like that, is he dangerous? This is an understandable question that people often have. There are two parts to it. The first, which is the good news: he is a gentle little baby lamb around every human (of any age) that he has ever met. He doesn't jump up, bark, or growl. He's shy but excited to meet every person we walk past on the street. He's a little cuddle bug, and if he finds someone at a party who will scratch his ears and above his tail, he will stay glued to that person's legs the entire night. In short, he's a gentleman and a sweetheart. He trusts humans, despite everything they've put him through. The second part, though, is a little more complicated: he cannot be around other dogs. He is terrified of them and will not react well. On walks around the neighborhood, it's not a big problem; if a dog is on the other side of the street or even 20 yards ahead of us, Casper pays it no attention. However, if face-to-face with another dog, he will go into fight or flight mode. We've been extremely lucky to learn that quickly and not put him in situations where he would be faced with another dog. He's never gotten into a fight or anything like that. It's just something we know to be true about him, and we plan accordingly. Also, we are able to occasionally board him (though we avoid it because it's very stressful for Casper) through Brandon Fouche's facility, where Casper is off leash with other dogs and has no problems (he just hides from them and avoids them). I'm planning on doing a whole separate post about our training journey with Casper, so for now, I'll just say that Brandon is a miracle worker and has helped us get Casper's issues with other dogs in check to a point that I rarely think or worry about it anymore. Which, from 2014 to now, is an amazing and huge change.

4. Is it hard to take care of him while working full time? This is actually the most common question I get about Casper. Most of my friends in LA do not have dogs of their own at this stage in life, in part because they're not sure if they would have the time and money to care for one properly. I think it's very considerate and responsible to have that in mind, but at the same time, I would encourage anyone to consider adopting an older dog as a way of having a companion that does not need as much attention and will be forever grateful to you.

Grace's schedule is more flexible than mine, so she ends up taking him on walks and caring for him a lot. But that said, there are times when she is out of town, and I take care of him on my own. Even though I'm gone at work from around 7:15am-5pm, he is just fine hanging out and sleeping at home during those hours. I take him on about 2 long walks and 1-2 additional shorter "bathroom break" walks every day and he's happy. More than anything, he just wants to hang out at home with me and get attention. He is not a big eater and does not whine or get snappy for his dinner when I get home (usually, he hasn't even finished his breakfast). So in short, Grace and I are extremely lucky to have such a low-maintenance dog that fits so well into our lives at this age.

5. Lastly, what is his personality/likes and dislikes?

His little personality is so precious to me. He is a quiet, shy guy most of the time, but when he sees a favorite person (which is basically any person he has ever met), he wiggles his butt (he can't really wag his tail because of it being broken previously, so he just wiggles his whole lower half) and gets VERY excited. He loves his rubber ball and Kong. His favorite foods are mozzarella string cheese, fish, and eggs. He also likes ice cream and bananas, haha! His favorite time of the day is when Grace and I are watching a movie or TV in the evening and he can lay stretched out across both of our laps. He also loves to sleep in and can easily sleep until noon. He dislikes when Grace or I are getting packed up for a trip and he's uncertain whether he will get to come with us. He also strongly dislikes rain. Thankfully, he lives in sunny LA. We adore him and pray for many more years with him in our lives. I hope you enjoyed e-meeting him!