Success! Or Not.

We finished the electric fence! I got brave and tested it on myself (not really painful, but my arm muscles are sore from the tensing up it caused) after we turned it on. That was enough to convince me that the dogs would be fine if they got shocked.

The first thing Trooper did was run over to the fence, get shocked, yelp, and run off to chase rabbits in the yard. All good. Except, 10 minutes later they both jumped the fence, pausing slightly to yelp as they got shocked on their way over. DAMMIT. Luckily, they were tired from running around the yard like lunatics, so it didn't take long to catch them. They both flopped in the shade inside the kennel in a relieved manner.

The next time I take them out will be to intentionally shock them on the fence while we're walking on the leashes. They have until the first day of school to learn to respect this fence. If that doesn't happen, I am going to have to really rethink my ability to care for them.

The thought of giving them up after all this effort makes me want to cry. I spend at least 2 hours a day working with them. I get up at 6:30 every morning (of my VACATION!) to walk them. We have refrained from making any summer plans that involve both of us being gone for more than 12 hours at a time (including cancelling my birthday plans). We spent plenty of money on this electric fencing and took the time and energy to put it up (I have blisters on my hands and a nasty bruise on my trachea thanks to this project). I have done everything in my power to teach these dogs that I am the one who feeds them and cares for them and loves them and provides them with cookies. So it is understandably frustrating when they jump the fence and run away as soon as they get the opportunity.

I know this isn't a personal thing. They like us just fine, wagging and smiling and getting excited when they see us. The trouble is, they don't really care about us. We're fun if there's nothing better to do. Otherwise, they can take us or leave us. I know this isn't surprising considering what they have been through, but I was naively hoping that once they realized what a great home we provided, they would fall at our feet in gratitude. Not so much.

I actually wouldn't mind so much if their attitude didn't make it impossible to keep them safe. If they just ran around the yard, only coming to me when they wanted to...fine. But they aren't content with the yard. They have to run around the entire damn neighborhood, putting themselves at risk of all the vehicles, loose animals, nutjobs, and weapons contained therein. I don't want them to get hurt and I think it is only right that if I am unable to contain them while simultaneously providing them with a decent standard of living (I don't consider 22 hours a day in a 8 x 24 ft. box to be a decent standard of living) then it is my duty to find something better for them.

Of course, we tried that. Nobody wants to take on 2 black labs who can escape any enclosure, who fight with other dogs, who chase livestock, and who will only follow basic commands while on a leash and bribed with a cookie. Not that I blame them. So, then the issue becomes this: isn't 184 sq. ft. of living space better than a crate at the Humane Shelter. And infinitely preferable to the solution the pound would provide? And if so, can I continue this regiment of twice-daily walkings, knowing that it will cost me every future vacation I can think of?

But maybe I am over-reacting. (Who, me?) Mayabe, with the proper introduction, I can teach them to respect this fence that bites (obviously not hard enough) and stay inside the property. Hopefully, I can do it by the end of August, when I will be returning to my school schedule - a routine that will severely limit my dog walking time.