[pyrnet] A long story...

["Jerry Rivers" <ripshodprym8@home.com>]

Hello Pyrfolks,

I've been lurking on this list for two weeks now, getting a sense of the
mood here.  I've enjoyed reading your letters and am sure I've found a group
who shares my concern for and my love for the breed and dogs in general.
I'm now compelled to write.  I know this will be a terribly long message,
but I hope you'll bear with me as knowing the whole story is necessary for
you to form an opinion as to my next move.  Thank you in advance for your
time, consideration and advice.

I live in Nashville, Tennessee.  I moved to my current residence, a duplex,
about 3 years ago.  At that time, I owned one cat, a female Spitz, and a 65
pound Shepard/Chow mix male named Elmo.  Elmo was absolutely the very best
dog I've ever owned.  I adopted him directly from his mother and was
fortunate to be able to spend a lot of time with him and see that he
developed a good disposition and nice manners.  He could be trusted to roam
on his own, always behaved himself, and instantly come to me when called.
Last
October, he developed some red spots around his groin and backside.  The vet
informed us that they were cancerous tumors.  He was already shot through
with the disease, and in late November, he wasn't having any fun being a dog
anymore so we had him put down.  He was only six years old.

My fiancée is a physician and she lives in Knoxville, about two and a half
hours away.  She was very attached to Elmo, though she'd only known him for
a few months.  She took his death hard, as did I.

In early January, some new folks moved to my block and with them came a male
Great Pyr.  He was immature but quite large, with three large ginger spots
and a symmetrical ginger mask.  The new neighbors said he was a stray and
had wandered up while they were moving in.  I'm not sure they were being
completely truthful and suspect that they may have brought him up from Texas
and decided he was too much to handle, but it really didn't matter.  I fell
in love with him right away, and my fiancée fell head-over-heels for him,
too.  After posting flyers in the neighborhood, placing an ad and waiting
for a reasonable amount of time, I declared him to be mine.  I knew nothing
about the breed, but researched it on the net and was proud to be owned by
such a regal beast.  My daughter, who does not live with me full time,
called him 'cow', so it was obvious that his name must be Angus.

Note:  While I don't have documentation as to his heredity, of course, I'm
certain he's of the breed.  If you'd like, I have lots of pictures and I'd
be glad to send anyone a couple, and I'm sure you'll agree that even if he
isn't 100% pure, he's very much the Pyr.  His only faults as far as I can
see are the absence of the double dewclaw and that he seems to have peaked
at just under a hundred pounds (if his vet's age estimate of circa 16 to 18
months is correct), which seems a bit small from what I've read.

Angus has never once acted aggressively toward man or beast, though he did
give my cat a hard time for a while because she doesn't play dog games.  His
main behavioral fault has been that he demands attention and has to be
sternly shooed away from wary visitors.  He can't understand why anyone
wouldn't want him right there against them for easier scratching.  Soon
after he moved in, I completed fencing in the back yard.  He has almost 150
square yards to patrol and he does his job well, keeping it safe from birds
and other interlopers.  He spends the days while I'm at work inside my tiny
home with the other critters.  Amazingly, he was already housebroken.  There
have been only a very few accidents.

By now, I'm sure you're all wondering what could possibly be the point of
all this rambling on.  Well, something terrible happened last Friday.  I'm
beginning to rethink his place in my life and I need advice, encouragement
or admonishment, whichever is appropriate.

Last Friday when I came home from work, I didn't notice that my duplexmate
had left a gate open.  I let the animals out through the back door as usual,
and five minutes or so passed before I noticed Angus was gone.  I
immediately grabbed a leash and headed out in search.  My neighbor's
13-year-old son came to help.  We split up to search.  When I got a reliable
report from another neighbor that he was a block up the road, I ran back,
got in my car, and headed up there.

Sure enough, I found him marking a tree in someone's yard, and the boy was
standing on the sidewalk.  I pulled to the curb and stayed in the car, but
opened the passenger door and invited him in.  He loves to ride in the car.
It's an old VW Rabbit convertible.  I have a piece of an old leash tied to
the center of the roll bar which keeps him from poking his whole self too
far out.  He came straight for the car and was smiling.  The boy, still on
the sidewalk ahead of the car, approached with the intent of closing the car
door behind him.

Angus was almost in the car, but he stopped before he stepped in.  He backed
around the door and attacked the boy.  In the 5 seconds or so that it took
me to set the brake, get out and run around the car, he had bitten him at
least four times.  I grabbed Angus by the neck and put his head on the car,
yelling, then tossed him in the back and tied him in.  He instantly turned
meek again.

The bites were mostly on his right forearm, with one deep puncture on each
side of his upper arm and one faint mark on his left shoulder.  I could
immediately  tell that some were very deep punctures with a little tearing.
I carried the boy home and called his mother out to take him to the
hospital.  After walking back to the car, Angus seemed very subdued.  I
brought him in the front door, then tried to get him to go into the backyard
(the gate had been closed by the mother in our absence), but he balked and
wouldn't walk past me holding the door open.  I couldn't wait around, so I
left.  We were at the hospital until late at night.  Four puncture wounds
got two stitches each, and one got one stitch.

So as you can see, I have quite a dilemma.  I have always felt near contempt
for people who purposely keep dangerous dogs.  Angus and this boy had played
in our yard on several occasions.  He in no way provoked this attack and
there was no warning.  Now I can't escape the fact that this dog can be
dangerous.  I've always known that any dog has a potential for aggressive
behavior, but I never expected this to happen to me.  By virtue of his size
alone, he's capable of doing much more damage than this and very well might
have, had I not been there to stop him.

Angus is now at the vet for a ten day quarantine as local law dictates.  The
regular vet is out for the week, but I spoke with the interim vet.  She
agreed that neutering is the next logical step, but she said that it in no
way can insure that his behavior will be changed.  She had visited him there
for the first time and said that he seems gentle and affectionate, not
aggressive at all.  In fact, she seemed surprised by this and said that in
her experience, Pyrs are by nature difficult to manage and she usually has
to use a muzzle during examinations.  She was not very comforting.

Does this story resonate with any of you?   Is this atypical of Pyrs in your
experience?

There's more to discuss, including my limited options on how to deal with
this, but I've gone on way too long with this already, and I'd like to hear
your opinions so far before I go on.

Thanks for reading this.  It's felt good to get it all out.

Jerry Rivers
Nashville