The Story of Butchie Boy

          It is not enough to just love a dog. You have to learn to understand his kind so you will know how to take care of him.

            The first time I encountered this issue about a dog being “given away” was when we were first taking care of Boxers. I was seeing a vet on a regular basis for all sorts of doggy reasons: yearly shots, mange, flea control, indigestion, and all those concerns that beset first-time dog owners.

            That morning, I had brought in King Kong, my dad’s favorite tan-and-white Boxer for some minor ailment. Because I had work at the office and could not come back to pick him up that day, I asked if the dog could board at the clinic for a day or two.

            My vet refused, saying she only allows sick dogs to stay over. “The dog might think you’ve given him away,” she said.

            That was new to me. “Why?” I asked. “What will he do?”

            The vet shrugged her shoulders, indicating the reaction could be any variety of behaviors. “He might get mad, might get depressed, I can’t say what he might do,” she replied.

            In the background, I could hear the whine of her canine patients. If you’re familiar with the usual sounds dogs make every day, you should hear them cry when they’re separated from their loved ones and long to go home. Their voices are different. These are the heart-wrenching cries dog owners don’t hear.

            A few years later, Butchie Boy came into the picture, another tan-and-white beauty from the second brood of puppies produced by Alfa. By that time, King Kong was not with us anymore. My dad had passed him to his physical therapist when he saw how much the young man wanted to own a magnificent Boxer like Kong.

            Butchie was 2 years old when I brought in a Dalmatian pup called Spotty as his new playmate.  Spot went under my personal care. Butchie belonged to my dad and was being taken care of by the maid.

            But I wasn’t managing the dogs well, this being my first time. I didn’t know they had a canine hierarchy. Spot was clearly a favorite at home with his playful ways and cheerful expression. He was always petted first, fussed over first, fed first, and taken out on walks first. Butchie looked at all this with a sullen face.

Spotty was undeniably cuter and more pleasant to look at than Butchie Boy's perennially scowling Boxer face.

            When Spot reached a year old, Butchie suddenly unleashed his anger on him one night when Spot just arrived from an after-dinner stroll with me. Pampered Spot, thinking the world was a pleasant place to live in, under some angry dog’s jaws locked on his neck, learned to fight back. Spot won first, of course, being younger (Butch fought until he collapsed of fatigue). But Butchie Boy did not leave it at that. In the following days, he persisted in enforcing their natural canine hierarchy, asserting himself as the top dog of the house. This is a culture among dogs I wasn’t aware of.

            I surfed the internet frantically, consulted books, and talked to various dog trainers, seeking answers to why my dogs were suddenly fighting. As is common to this approach, you receive a wide range of advice. But most of these you feel you can’t apply because of insufficient understanding on your part. In my case, I want to know what I’m doing – not just obey the method from step 1 to 5. The most practical advice (which I felt I could handle) came from a local trainer who said, “Let the dogs settle it among themselves. Don’t try to stop their fights.” When I said Spot keeps winning but Butchie keeps challenging, the trainer said, “Let them fight some more. Your Boxer hasn’t accepted yet his new position.”

When fights occur inside our house chairs tumble off their feet and furniture is in disarray. This is one of the most important reasons why we should understand and train dogs before they start to live with us. Fierce animal fights do not belong in the home. We are left in constant tension, apprehensive when the next attack will occur.

Arrangements at home got affected. Both dogs, once free to walk in and out the house, were leashed all day in separate locations away from each other’s sight. Nobody was happy with the set-up.

            The fights were getting expensive too. Surgical bills were in danger of piling up because of holes and tears.

            Finally, I noticed Spot was not only fighting back whenever Butchie challenged.  He was also starting the fights. He believed he was the top dog in the house. This aggressive behavior was due to our fault. We had ingrained that belief in him!  

In the end, the issue unresolved, one dog had to go. That had to be Butchie Boy. I was preparing Spot for agility training and had plans for him.

Butchie Boy when he was with us. He lived with us for 3 years.

            My dog trainer, Jonathan, was still with us that time (his solution to this tension is another story, another blog). I rehomed Butchie with his family. Jonathan had other dogs there and I knew Butchie would have playmates.

            But Butchie didn’t do well there. One day, Spot was “vacationing” there (for a “refresher” course in his basic obedience) and the dogs were kept apart. Spot was leashed in the garage while Butchie was in the backyard. Jonathan’s son, Joseph, had just given Spot his morning walk (big mistake!), when he entered the backyard to fetch Butchie for his turn. An enraged Butch attacked Joseph.

            Jonathan relocated Butchie to a woman who had a Boxer female. Butch did well there for awhile. Jonathan raved about how loved and spoiled Butch was by the woman when he’d visit them. I was promised a Boxer puppy from Butch’s line.

            But a year or two later, it happened again. I received frantic phone calls from the woman to report to me Butch had suddenly attacked her. In stitches and bandages all over her arms and legs, she called me from the hospital where she was confined. The woman begged me to take the dog away.

            I called for Jonathan, my mind busy on what to do next. I cannot bring Butchie back to us because Spotty was here. If Butchie was on aggression mode, I didn’t want to consider any of my friends. My only alternative was to get in touch with Anna, one of the directors of PAWS, the Philippine Animal Welfare Society.

            Jonathan came to the house that afternoon after delivering Butchie Boy to the PAWS animal shelter. He had to sign a waiver for me, giving the dog up. I grieved about legally disowning Butchie Boy from us like that and felt his fate was due to our ignorance. During the months that passed after I had Butchie moved away from us, I had finally understood what had happened between him and Spot. But by the time I knew enough about their social phenomenon, Butchie was not living with us anymore.

Butchie stares at the camera while Spot, still a puppy, playfully nips at his hind legs. Boxers are ideal children's pets, being extremely patient to being poked and manhandled by young hands.

               Butchie seemed fated to lose those close to him. When he was over a year old, he lost his caregiver, a maid of ours named Ming, whom he was very devoted to. At first, when Ming's 9-year-old daughter, Jasmin, was temporarily confined to the hospital for fever, Ming would spent the night at her daughter's bedside. After she leaves, I'd see Butchie sit facing our front door in the living room. When I turn off the lights, I'd still see Butchie facing the front door.
               One night I awoke to hear a long, wailing howl in the living room. I snapped up in bed when I recognized it. That was Butchie. The dog was crying for Ming, wondering why she wasn't home yet.
               Butchie would have continued his wailing hadn't I not rushed to the living room to interrupt his sorrow. It was a terribly unhappy sound. The other dogs woke up to distract him too.
               A few months later, Ming and her daughter left us. Butchie's expression changed. I thought the dog had just gotten more mature and mellow. But not until our family friend named Fely brought it up. "Butchie looks different," she remarked. I agreed, then the realization hit. The dog was grieving. Ming will never come back to him.
               Boxers have such expression-filled faces.
               But I was never able to protect the dog from more losses in his life.   

             During the days Butchie was at the shelter, I steeled myself from visiting him. Should I see that familiar Boxer face, what might I do? My father had died a few months back and Butchie was a part of that sentimental past. But I had taken him away from his first home, had him relocated twice, and finally had him brought to a shelter because he could not go back to us, his first family.
             A few days later, Anna called me up after visiting Butchie at the shelter. “Such a quiet, tight-lipped dog,” she commented. She inquired on the dog’s background and to collect information on his behavior. The following week, she called back. Butchie was 6 years old, suffering from a minor ailment (which I can’t remember anymore), but with his background of hostility and aggression, he cannot be re-adopted. The decision was to put him down.

    For the next two weeks I tried to busy myself with other things while I tossed the issue about Butchie in my mind. I didn’t know what to do.  At the time when Butchie and Spot were living together, I didn’t know about this canine hierarchy the dogs follow on instinct. More experienced dog owners or dog behaviorists could probably have settled this social issue of theirs. But though I later understood the culture, I didn’t think I had enough confidence to face the two dogs again. That’s why Butchie couldn’t go back home to us.

    One day, I received a call from the shelter. Butchie was going to be put down in 15 minutes. I was deeply saddened and at the same time helpless. I still didn’t know what to do. WHAT DID THEY WANT ME TO DO??? They had given me the chance to do something but I could offer no other option to save Butchie’s life. In the end, I resigned to my dilemma. I told them I was letting the dog go.    

    Butchie left our world quietly that morning. 

     New dog owners make a lot of mistakes in the beginning and the price of that is always some dog’s life. No matter how much you love them.