We Adopt Our First Hellion (I Mean, Rescue), and He Destroys Everything That is Holy and Good
Don't Worry; You Will Also Survive
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We picked up our first rescue dog, Porter, at an adoption fair in December of 2018. Our beloved lab had died two months before and, obviously, we were bereft, spending the afternoons walking the dog walking route (with no dog) and openly crying about it.
We wanted to travel and we were getting married in the summer and were Very Busy, so we had decided NO NEW DOGS. But if you are a dog owner and you have been in this situation before, you know exactly where this story is going.
Exactly. This declaration lasted for a few weeks until I read Brandon McMillan's Lucky Dog Lessons after walking by it at the library. I then devoured all of the seasons of Lucky Dog and yeah...pretty much after that I thought I WAS NOW Brandon McMillan and qualified to train a dog. Time to get a new dog!!! Preferably a rescue with lots of problems I could fix with my imaginary new training skills!!
One particularly gloomy day, missing our lab and hoping to adopt a new, tiny dog, without my husband noticing, I tried to sneak out the door to go to an adoption fair. I wanted to meet a Bijon mixed named "Tulip" and to otherwise"just to look around." Similar to trying to go to Costco and "just look around," I knew there was only one likely conclusion to this excursion.
My husband (fiancè, at the time) noticed that I had put on makeup, was not crying, and was trying to exit the house voluntarily. He put two and two together pretty quickly realized I was about to impulse purchase a dog. Being the voice of logic, he reminded me of all the reasons why getting a dog right now was a bad idea (wedding, trips planned, money...), but I was a woman on a mission and could not be stopped. He reluctantly took a ride with me hoping to contain the damage.
Our local rescue (Lost Dog Rescue) pairs up with Petsmart to put on adoption fairs. I walked into the Petsmart and, forgetting that I had lied and said "I was just looking around," and "I had no plan," I walked straight over to meet & greet for Tulip. There was already a line for Tulip and my visit with her did not go well. She growled at me while her handler clutched Tulip to her chest and said "I think this visit is over."
Despite the dirty liar that I was, my husband took pity on me, pointed to Porter, and said "Aw, look at that shepherd." Porter was sitting up and looking friendly and energetic, but I was having none of it. Sulking, I walked through the adoption fair to half-heartedly look around at the other dogs.
My husband had kind of locked in on Porter and finally went over to say "hi," while I stood off a few feet being like "he's okay, I guess." His handler told us that Porter was a good boy, laid back, and doing well in the shelter as Porter was biting the shit out of my husband's hand. While my husband was playing with Porter, a look of sadness and happiness crossed my husband's face that made me be like "WE'LL TAKE HIM." We hemmed and hawed a bit after that, got in a fight with the adoption lady about whether Porter would eat our cat or not, but there was really no way I was leaving him after I saw that look cross my husband's face. I had intended to get a TINY BRUNCH DOG and instead we were leaving with A BITEY 50 LB DOG WHO WAS ONLY KIND OF CUTE.
The rescue interviewed us, gave us some information and some kibble, and off we went. I had read my all my Brandon McMillan books and I was sure that whatever this dog was going to throw at me, I would be up for it. This moment would mark the beginning of my realizing what a naive idiot I was.
Porter Comes Home
When we adopted Porter, his paper work said his name was "Charlie (aka Jake)." If we were experienced rescuers, we would have realized that Porter already had two names and two names means Porter already had TWO HOMES by the time he was 11 months. This was a red flag, but were naive and didn't think anything of it. "Charlie" is also Chris's brother's name so we were at the adoption fair all like"It's a sign!!!!!" We like to name our pets after things we love or their core personality traits, and Chris loves his brother. (Chris's brother did, in fact, happen to appear at the adoption fair by accident when he needed to pick up kibble for his dog and found us debating over getting Porter: ANOTHER SIGN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
We decided that Charlie/Jake needed a new name for his new life and since he was black and brown, we named him after my favorite beer: Black Butte Porter (by Deschutes Brewery).
So here I am with my new rescue dog. We bought everything we needed, loaded him up, and drove him home. We almost immediately learned that he was a total psycho. My arms were covered in teeth marks before the first evening was over.
Every time I tried to move or play, Porter would be like "Good idea!!!!!!!!! Imma play with my TEETH." At this point, I knew I was not Cesar Milan and was, in fact, over my head, but I couldn't admit it because I had thrown a HUGE FIT about adopting him and now I was stuck-like it or not.
The song taking the world by storm at that moment was "Baby Shark," and we made that Porter's new nickname due to his inability to do anything without involving his teeth.
As we were getting the ducks were in a row- the name, the vet, the shots, the kibble- we were also starting to get a fuller picture of just what we were getting ourselves into.
We knew that Porter around a year old and that due to his age, he was going to be crazy until he hit 2 or 3. Doggy adolescence is an actual thing that starts when the pup hits about 6 months and goes until the dog is 2 or 3, depending on their temperament, size, breed, etc. Think of teenage adolescence (fits/fighting boundaries/big feelings/telling the rules to "fuck off), put that into doggy form, and there you go.
Porter would drag me around the block, lunge and bark at other dogs, rip my gloves off my hands, mouth our arms and legs during play time or whenever he was bored, wake me up at the crack by sticking is tongue in my mouth or biting my hair, chew through multiple collars a week, chew through beds, chew through leashes, chase foxes through the neighborhood, run down the street and bark at neighbors, snap at strangers, nip the pant legs of strangers, nip the fingers of strangers, totally lose his shit on the Amazon man... Oh, and he was not potty trained! The list goes on.
One time, before our 5:15 am morning walk, my husband said "He's a good boy-he doesn't need to have his leash on." OK-so I didn't put his leash on and opened the front door: sure enough, a fox was right there, so Porter ran straight out the door, down the road, across the street, and up a neighbor's hill before we got ahold of him. We never did that again.
Another time I dragged Porter to the Petsmart I adopted him from for one of our "socialization outings" and woman who worked there saw him and said "Oh my God-He looks just like Charlie. I adopted a dog named Charlie from here but he ate through my wall, my floor, my subfloor, and a mattress and I had to return him." It wasn't until I went to bed that night that I realized "Charlie!!!! Charlie WAS PORTER'S FIRST NAME!!"I had accidentally met one of Porter's first moms.
Another time, I had already walked Porter a few miles in the morning and couldn't get him to calm down. I took him into the yard to run around but since our yard wasn;t fenced yet, I had him on a very long lead. He saw our neighbor getting her paper and started running down the hill. I slipped in mud while he was pulling and got dragged through it. He broke free, ran down the street and barked at my neighbor until she went back into her house. I apologized, but obviously my neighbor was not happy that some dog that she didn't know all that well was barking furiously at her while she was minding her own business on her own property.
I cried myself to sleep sometimes because I had never had a dog like this. I didn't know what he was capable of, good or bad, and I didn't want my dog to hurt or scare people. I had, in fact, hoped to train him to be a therapy dog and to take him to breweries and hiking and camping...those plans were obviously way, way, way, way, way, waaaaaaaaay out the window. I looked ahead and saw only 14 years of lonely, scary, mean-dog ownership.
Looking back, I can't believe I felt this way, but adopting our first rescue was such an unpredictable time. I had no idea what I was getting into and I only knew that bitey dogs were bad and potentially dangerous. I felt very sad, scared, and alone. Porter grew into being a Good Boy, but it took a lot of training on my part and his.
It was a long trek and it is long story. Join us to learn about it!
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Porter's Necessary Products from This Era
 | Unfortunately, even though Porter was almost one when we adopted him, he was not potty trained. We needed a lot of Nature's Miracle. |
 | Because he was not potty trained, we also need a crate to help us out with the process. We used Brandon McMillan's process, which he calls the "house training triangle." Here is a video of him explaining the process, but basically you take the dog out to pee, play with him for a few minutes, and then put him in his crate, and repeat the process for while with increasing time at each step. This worked for Porter and our puppies. |
 | Porter chewed through his first few leashes. This was a good one because it lasted if he didn't chew it. If he DID chew it, we could buy a cheap replacement. |
 | We didn't have a fence when we first adopted Porter, and since he was an asshole, we couldn't leave him off leash. Since he had a lot of energy, we needed him to run around. we bought this so that he could run but we could grab him if we needed to. HE ALSO CHEWED THROUGH THESE so we had to buy a few. |
 | Porter chewed the shit out of everything so we bought him these to chew on instead. |
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