Roscoe had spent much of the first 6 months of his life at a dog pound in Kansas. A rescue worker in Omaha spotted his picture on the Internet and decided to go get him. When she got home with him, she called us, because we’d been looking for a german shepherd. We went to the rescue worker’s house and picked him up.
Roscoe was a sweet boy, but he loved to torment our Golden Retriever. He would grab her by the neck, pull out bits of her tail fur and generally turned her into a psychotic heap by the end of day 1.
We kept telling ourselves that things would get better. In fact, sometimes they did play, but then Roscoe would end up with all the toys and Ginger would be behind the chair before too long. When they slept, he would be on one side of the room and she would be on the other. It was a sad situation, always having to run behind Roscoe and tell him to leave Ginger alone.
We tried the Dog Whisperer trick of laying Roscoe on his side and telling him to behave, but you know what? It wasn’t that Roscoe wasn’t behaving, really. It was that Ginger didn’t know how to draw the line. She was afraid to, really. (Well, ok, the tail-eating thing wasn’t that nice!)
After 3 weeks, my husband decided Roscoe needed to find a home without an overly submissive dog to interact with. So, on Monday, he was returned to the rescue home and on Thursday, he was adopted to a man who had wanted to see him the same day we picked him up. He was excited to have the chance to have Roscoe.
I talked to the rescue lady today because she wanted to give our adoption fee back. We refused. We told her to use it for the dogs.
The rescue lady said that Roscoe had been doing really well with her 3 dogs, who let him know when he had crossed the line with them. He was even taking manners lessons from a Jack Russell Terrier.
My response was that our Golden must be neurotic, then, because she would cower behind my husband’s chair and wouldn’t come out even to go to the bathroom.
By himself, he was so sweet, and sat on my lap several times while he played with his toys.
I miss his fuzzy face, but he’s where he’s supposed to be.
Oh, and Ginger is back to her normal, bouncy self.