Ladybug Chronicles - Jan 26

A wildish, undersocialized 'village dog' is now our online village's little darling!

For those catching up with the Ladybug Chronicles, last year at this time, I was fostering an Aussie mix dog who was quite an eye-catcher on the Dogs Deserve Better social media page. Once I became her foster mom, many people started following my updates on Facebook. I switched to this platform and will continue here.

I’m also writing a book about our first year together. I haven’t chosen a title yet, but leaning into “Ladybug: Mirror to my Soul.” This little dog has been the biggest challenge and a joy to work with. She reminds me of myself in many ways: sensitive, intuitive, with deep emotions, and just as I’ve worked through my childhood fears of the world not being safe, I am helping her overcome the same. I adopted her within a few months of fostering; she has become my little shadow.

The last update here was about starting Ladybug on Prozac. It’s been five weeks now, and I’m seeing changes. She is more confident. She has always been vocal, rumbling her dislike of things and yowling softly for attention, but now, she’s growling when she’s on the sofa with me and doesn’t want the other dogs to join us. I monitor this by encouraging the boys, Tiktok and Turnip, to respect her wishes if they have had turns on the sofa. But, if they are needy and she’s just being bossy, I suggest she go “to her room.” She often goes willingly to her private space, her dog crate, to lay there with the door open to self-regulate. This dynamic is tricky to monitor and keeps me on my toes. My goal is to be fair to all the dogs.

She is less noise-sensitive. She can self-regulate quicker after a noise startles her or makes her bark in fear, especially when I’m there to help. I thank her for the warning, kneel beside her, smile, and take deep breaths, showing her I’m not afraid. I talk calmly while petting her, and when she quiets, I ask her if she wants to go with me to see the source of the scary noise. Often, she comes with me, hesitantly at first. Sometimes, she can’t handle it and knows she has the option to hide in her crate. I cover the crate with a blanket if the stimuli are too overwhelming.

Yesterday, the farmer carried a folding table up the stairs from the basement to the office. A man carrying or lifting an object is still terrifying to Ladybug, even if the man is her beloved farmer. When she first heard the sounds, she fled to the mudroom, where she could hear and observe from further away. This is progress! She would have run to her crate, roo-roo-rooing with nose in the air, her whole body trembling with fear, and not quieted until I closed her in and covered it with a blanket. So now, I knelt in the hallway, reassuring her the noise was “farmer-dad” bringing up a table from the basement. She came to me, still roo-rooing but with a lowered nose and less volume. I held onto her collar as he came into view. The table had dropped open which looked bigger and scarier for her. She leaned into me watching horrified, but silent. I kept talking, keeping a comforting hand on her.

I let go of her collar as he moved to the office and set the table up. She didn’t retreat but watched me as I invited her to go with me to see what was happening. I walked toward the office, and she followed, crouching and ready to bolt. This, too, is amazing progress! Eventually, she came into the office to sniff the farmer and the table and reassured herself that all was well. Cheers for doggy Prozac and courage!

Even better, I walked her on a leash down the lane, doing some obedience practice: walk, stop and sit, stay, walk on, wait there, come. We ended up between the two campers parked at the end of our barn. I had just put her on a sit-stay and dropped the leash to walk away when a gust of wind blew a corner of the tarp covering the smaller camper. It snapped against the plexiglass side. She jumped back, recovered, and sat again. She was still afraid, but I had my hand out in the calming gesture I automatically do with her. Instead of fleeing, she watched me and stayed. I returned to her, speaking soft reassurances. I knelt beside her in the snow, and we watched the wind blow the tarp around some more. I fed her treats and praised her bravery. Then I let her off leash to shake off the tension by hunting mice in grass clumps. Though she is very food-motivated, hunting will always be her most cherished reward.