Over the last year, since Poochito came to the construction site, I have tried my best to befriend him. But, he is absolutely terrified of me. Our empirical observations would indicate that I am the only person, or thing, on the planet that frightens him. (And I loooove him so.) This dog has no fear of anyone else, no fear of heavy construction equipment, no fear of heights (he goes up to the third or fourth floor of the open construction and goes right over to the edge and looks out over his domain), no fear of sudden, loud noises, NADA. No fear of anything, but me!! When he sees me, he runs as fast as he can to the comfort of his enclosed construction site.
He's not afraid of women in general. Other women come to the construction site and he doesn't run from them. He's not afraid of Gringos. He let Gil pet him once (we were standing and talking to the construction site owner), but he would not come near me even to take a dog biscuit. After he let Gil pet him, I took one step toward him and he ran for the hills and hid behind one of the construction guys way inside of the construction site. Now, this really bugs me, because Gil could care less about petting Poochito, but I love him and really want to pet him. Gil enjoys watching Poochito and his antics, but, he isn't a dog person like I am, so he can give or take a Poochito petting.
Now, it's important that I point out that I have never done anything to harm Poochito. He was terrified of me the very first time he laid eyes on me. Gil thinks it's because I actually pay him some attention, while most of the rest of the human world seems to be rather indifferent to him. He greets his workers every morning with wags and wiggles, and they pretty much ignore him. I acknowledge his existence, so he thinks there must be something sinister going on there. Anyway, that's Gil's theory.
Well, over the last few months, I have been trying to win him over with dog biscuits. He does like to eat. There used to be a man who came every morning in a red truck to delivery bread to the construction workers. He would throw Poochito a bun. Sooooo, when that red truck showed up, Poochito would run to greet it and he was all over that man, following him in a state of ecstatic worship. Well, I'd like for Poochito to greet me like that. (Gil says he does -- he runs when he sees me just like he would run when he saw the red truck. The difference is he runs away from me and he ran toward the red truck. Sigh.)
Anyway, in an attempt to get Poochito to see me as a benefit delivery system rather than the diabla blanca from the black lagoon he apparently thinks I am, I keep 5 or 6 dog biscuits with me in a baggy in my coat pocket at all times, just in case I will be passing within his realm. In the last couple of weeks, I have been able to get him to take them out of my hand, but only after having thrown a couple to him first from a distance. But, he will not let me pet him. If I reach for him without a biscuit in my hand, no matter how gingerly or non-threateningly, he runs away.
Progress is slow. Even though he now knows I'm the biscuit lady, his first impulse still is to run when he sees me. Just a few days ago, after weeks of me giving him biscuits, -- nay, months of me giving him biscuits -- he was lying in the dirt road in front of the construction site gate when I walked by about 20 yards away. I took out a biscuit and said, "Quieras una galleta, Capitan?" (Do you want a biscuit Captain? -- His real name is Capitan.)) Well, he took one look at me and got up and ran into the construction site. He peeked his head out around the corner to see if I was still there. Then he went back inside. Then he peeked out again. This time, one of the construction workers peeked out too to see what was scaring the dog. There I stood with dog biscuit in hand, cooing softly about the biscuit and scaring the daylights out of the big, bad German Shepard. I tossed him the biscuit, but I had to give up that day because he was not coming back out until I was gone. The construction worker pet him on the head to comfort him. But there was no comfort to be had until the diabla blanca (I) was gone
Anyway, today, we had a breakthrough -- although I have no delusions that it is going to stick. I'm sure that the next time he sees me, he is going to run like the dickens to get away from me, and I'm going to have to go into the "throw-a-couple-of-biscuits-until-he-will-finally-approach-and-take-one-out-of-my-hand" routine all over again.
But today, well, I'll let the pictures tell the story. (If you click to enlarge the pictures, you will see a white dot on his face. He has a boo-boo, and it looks like someone has put some kind of white medicine on it. Don't know how he got it but it's not a bad boo-boo.)
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| The timid approach (after two biscuits were thrown to him from a distance.) |
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| Nervously taking a biscuit from my hand. |
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| Taking a second biscuit. |
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| The back-off. Nerves got the better of him. |
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| Finally, he let me pet him. But you can see he's not too thrilled about it. |
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| "I'm not liking this, but there are biscuits left in that bag." |
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| "Okay, scary lady, this is really not fun. Please don't hurt me. Oh, god, this is so scary." |
Right after that last picture, he ran back away from me. Not too far, (I had a couple of biscuits left), but he did not approach again. He watched as I petted Paco, the dog at the Vega store next door. But, he'd had his fill of petting and was probably thinking that Paco is loco for letting me get so close to him.
Poochito is a really beautiful dog. But truthfully, he's much more majestic from a distance because from a distance you CANNOT SEE THE FEAR ON HIS FACE!!!!!
Okay, and then there is Paco. He loves and craves attention. He'd rather get petted than have a biscuit to eat. Just a biscuit is not enough. He wants lots and lots of petting.
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| Paco. See the uneaten biscuit? Paco says, "Who cares about biscuits, come pet me." |
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| "Ahhhh. Yes." |
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| "Tummy rub, please." |
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| "Yes, yes. That's what I like." |
There's a lesson to be learned here, Poochito.
