Professional trainers are limited in terms of what they can do. Professional trainers can help owners "modify" behaviors, but we are not usually able to modify personality or inherent genetic traits. A dog that is dangerous can be made safer, but never safe. A dog that bites people cannot magically be altered to suddenly love people. Genetic traits such as the dog's social attraction to people, arousal level, and independence are to some degree set in stone. Some dogs that have been abused can learn to trust people again, but some will not and no amount of training can change that. Most aggressive dogs genetically lack the ability to bounce back. As trainers and owners we are stuck with accepting the frustrating truth that there are dogs that cannot be saved.

The article below is about my experience with a people-aggressive dog. It chronicles my emotions and experience before working with the dog professionally, while working with him professionally, and how I felt about his euthanization.

Hope’s Executioner

One look and I knew. I’m not psychic. I saw. I saw independence. I saw aloofness. I saw arousal. I saw a tail wag that almost everyone would think was friendly.

If I tell them now, they will think I am crazy, but if I don’t people will get hurt. I hold my tongue, promising myself to look for a moment to politely slip it in. I rationalize they have not asked my opinion, I am not their trainer. I have not established credibility, so they will not focus on what I say. The first chance I have, I try; I say something about his aloofness and arousal. It passes by them like air. They barely notice it. This only adds to my frustration. I know what will happen, and I have no control to change it. Later they tell me that they remembered my words. It wasn’t air after all. It was a small chip in their boulder of hope.

He bites, but it was a vet tech. She says she tripped and fell towards him. This must have scared him. This must have made him fear for his life. She had jeans on; the punctures are not that deep. It is not reported --no strikes against him.

He is at the vets. He bites his owner. Not bad --just a small scar. Not to a face --just a hand.

He is 80 pounds of jaw and muscle, and I am hired to help. Their idea of help is to make it okay. To change the dog. I temperament test him and it only confirms what I saw. The owners tell me stories, and it only confirms what I saw. I tell them my opinion and when I leave the room, the videotape catches the owners saying, “how does she know he’s not friendly?” I am their hope’s executioner and they are kicking and screaming all the way.

We work on desensing a muzzle. We work on desensing touch, falls, needles, pokes, prods. He learns. He is operant. He is happily sticking his nose in the muzzle. He is aloof. He is highly arousable. He is independent. He is unbonded. He is unchanged.

I reach for his leg and feed. I reach for his foot and feed. He is relaxed. I reach for his foot and feed. He is relaxed. I reach for his foot and feed. He is relaxed. I reach for his foot and he tells me he will be happy to take my arm off if I were to do that again. I talk to the owner. Owner wants to keep trying. Can I blame him? He loves his dog. He holds out for the hope that maybe the bond will come. The training will work. I explain about genetics. I explain about only being able to modify, but not change. Owner wants to try. Owner wants to try meds, give low protein diet time to work, give training more time to work. I respect his commitment to his dog. I pray that he realizes there is no hope. I am hope’s executioner.

I don’t like this dog. I don’t love this dog. I think this dog is dangerous. They love this dog. They feed and care for this dog. They got him as a pup. They bonded with him, never noticing his inability to bond with them. They never noticed what I saw in one look. How can this be? I know I am not wrong. I want to be wrong. I don’t want to be hope’s executioner.

Vet says she wants to see dog. Vet says since he bit vet tech she wants to see what he is like. Vet meets dog. Dog wags. He is independent. He is aloof. He is highly aroused. She sees the wag --the strong, energetic wag. The vet says he is “fine”. I pull my hair. I calmly try to explain. I do explain. It is not that they don’t think I am credible. There is no need to take this personally. Although at times I do. I hate my powerlessness when I know people will be hurt. They agree with me, yes he is not bonding. Yes, they are concerned about this --yet they still have hope. The owners don’t want change. The owners are negotiating the nonnegotiable. I am hope’s executioner.

Wife goes to hug dog and he comes after her, growling --but maybe he did not feel good. Maybe it scared him. Maybe he was stressed. I disagree. I explain wife should be able to hug her dog. Wife had hugged dog for years. Owner should be able to trim his nails, hug, pat, handle...

Wife takes him for a walk and another dog comes up. He gets stiff. He wants to rumble. The leash is holding him back. He redirects. Wife won’t walk him any more. The husband never tells me. What psychological mechanism made him “forget”? Is it his love for the dog? Is it denial? Is it hope I should blame? If I knew, would I be better at making a difference?

Wife tells me. Wife tells me that she won’t walk him anymore, after he has bitten her, hard, on the thigh. Husband and wife agree there are no options left. I am relieved, hope is dead. I tell them it is not their fault. They are great dog parents. It’s bad genetics. He just appears friendly, but doesn’t like people.

Appears friendly, but doesn’t like people. How many of my peers would understand? How many would send me hate mail and say how can I not work to save him? As if, there was room for a hero in this. I love dogs. I put people first. I put children first. How many would understand, or like to take me apart for judging the dog with one look. In the end, it does not matter, I had no choice, I had to be hope’s executioner.