Dawn Update: In Captivity

Mason touching Dawn

Dawn – a feral dog we caught after seven months and nineteen puppies – went from roaming free for years to being locked up in our basement; I can’t imagine it’s an easy adjustment. She lives inside a 4’ by 8’ pen. A makeshift-plywood wall splits the basement in half, barricading any escape and keeping the pack away.

We play the radio so she has something to listen to and burn lavender candles to help her relax. But I can tell she wants out of her jail. She never barks, but occasionally she howls or straight-up cries.

Yesterday Danita, a twenty-something animal activist with a rocker’s edge, took the remaining litter, assuming responsibility for their care and re-homing. We pulled them at 4 weeks so that Dawn’s milk will dry up, and we can get her fixed.

I gave Dawn a big meaty bone to help pass time, but she ignores it, just sitting and listening, crooked, unsure ears zoning towards our footsteps on the concrete floor.

We’re determined to figure out if we can socialize Dawn; maybe even possibly find her a proper home with an indoor bed, and so far we’ve had promising results.

We’ve been able to TOUCH ( ! ) her on several occasions; if we get too close, she’ll growl, warning us to take it slow, but she’s never tried to attack when we clean her waste, change bedding, or refill her food and water bowls. Mostly, we just spend a few minutes everyday calmly sitting in her pen, letting her know we’ll never hurt her.

I’m learning that patience – for both human and dog – is the key to this game.