Parking Lot Puppy

One of the first times I walked my dog at the local park, I found a new anxiety that I could add to my quarantine pile. I went out my front door that morning with a furry puppy on my heels and the knowledge that no matter how cute she was, I couldn't let anyone pet her because of social distancing. I never thought that I would have to worry about the other people on behalf of her.

She is a wonderful dog. Smart, loving, and naps while I work. She gets along well with the dogs at her house and at my mother's. She bounds down the stairs every morning to leap onto the couch with my roommate. She is perfect. I had nothing to worry about.

As we rounded the strange, boarded up public bathroom that sits off to the side of the park, someone came down the trail towards us. I kept walking and didn't notice anything strange until I felt the leash go taut, pulling me backwards. My adorable, blonde puppy looked as though it was her last stand against the world. Hackles were raised, tail was tucked, and a low, not at all threatening growl was grumbling in her throat.

As the stranger came closer, a young woman with headphones in, not paying attention at all, my puppy kept backing away, pulling the leash tighter and tighter. I got her to sit and distracted her with pets as the girl got closer, eventually calming her down to the point where she stopped growling. But her fur was still straight as a porcupine's. I was scared. Not for myself, not for the stranger still approaching, but for my puppy. I wanted her to like strangers. I wanted her to be friendly and bound up to everyone and ask for belly rubs. I did not want this.

Throwing the caution of social distancing to the wind out of this worry, I regret now that I asked the girl to stop well within the six feet and gave her a treat to feed to my dog. I apologized for both my puppy's behavior and for getting too close, but needed her to get my puppy to like her. Thankfully, the woman was all too ready to get down on a cute puppy's level and make new friends. My puppy came around to her slowly, but surely and was eventually jumping into the woman's lap. I thanked her and we went on our way.

I hoped that it was just a one time occurrence, but as we kept walking and passing more people, my heart sank each time I heard a tiny growl and the hairs on her back stood up straight. My dog was afraid of strangers.

Immediately when we got home and she leapt back onto the couch panting happily, I went on the internet to discover what could be done. She was three months, I read, the perfect time for experiences to shape her world view. The perfect time to begin to socialize her. All of the tips and tricks that I read all had one thing in common. Exposing her to a wide range of people in a whole host of different scenarios. Getting up close and personal with people of different races, ages, genders, and so on. From everything I read, I knew one thing for sure. Six feet was probably not gonna cut it.

My heart sank. There was no mass replication of that experience in the park. I couldn't go up to every person on our walks and hand them treats to give my puppy. To pet her. To talk with me. It was simply too dangerous.

I could not risk transmitting the virus even if it was to get my puppy used to strangers. No one could come to my house to meet her. Even taking treats from a bag that I left out and stayed away from might still transmit the virus as people reached in and out. I didn't want to have a puppy that, as she grew up, turned that fear into aggression. I could handle her as a scared and uncoordinated puppy, but what about when she was grown, agile and quick.

I didn't want to just roll over and accept this. No pet training blogs or forums had any advice for socializing your dog under the constraints of social distancing because I doubt anyone has had this problem before. But, I could figure this out. Right?

The only answer I could come up with, and an unsatisfying answer at that, was to take her where the people were. A place where people were already hopefully practicing social distancing and good hygiene. A place where a whole host of people had to frequent. Everybody has to eat. That's right. I took my puppy to the grocery store.

Before you gasp and grasp at your pearls, I assure you that not one paw of that puppy stepped foot inside the store itself. More than that, no one even bent down to pet her. Unfortunately, the eyes above the crowd of face masks were on the whole suspicious and cautious to which I cannot blame them. A world where you are hesitant to touch a shopping cart is not one in which you pet the puppy of a stranger wandering around a grocery store parking lot. I got weird looks to be sure.

Growls were plenty at the beginning. I was never great at math so I did not put two and two together that grocery stores are also where shopping carts are used in abundance. The rattle and clang of metal carts full of crinkling plastic bags did not help me in my argument that strangers were nothing to be worried about. As tail tucked once more and my puppy cowered behind my legs, was forced to retreat for the first time.

I did not give up in the face of defeat. We were there the next day... and the next... and the next. The first step was simply getting her familiar with the concept of loud metal cages on top of wheels. The first day of running for the hills when the rattling began had been replaced by a new behavior in the middle of the second day. As she chased after a cart that I was directing and trying to bite the wheels that bounced over a pothole filled parking lot, I knew she was ready.

Treats in one hand and her leash in the other, I began to get closer to the entrance of the grocery store. I took care not to directly walk into anyone's path. The first reason was to simply keep the social distance guidelines well within their respected bounds. The other reason was that I did not want my puppy to feel forced into socializing with anyone, a feeling that I can always empathize with, especially around the holidays.

When each person would walk by, regardless of how close they were, a treat was slammed down in front of her as a reward. Each and every time she let out a tiny growl, I told her to sit. As she did, another treat was tossed down. I had to admit, at the end of the first day when she started looking at me for a treat every time a stranger so much as got out of their car within fifty feet, I thought that maybe I would like meeting new people more if I had gotten treats every time I met someone new. But, I believe I am already too far gone.

Since the start of my ramshackle attempt at socializing my dog, she has stopped growling at anyone new, either in parking lots or during our walks in the park. She has the trademark tilt of the head and small whine of curiosity whenever someone comes within sniffing distance.It will still be some time before I can truly socialize her. The quarantine is still in effect and no matter how cute and lovely she is, I can't afford to put anyone at risk by letting her get the pets she so certainly deserves.

However, I can say that one of my anxieties of the shelter at home order has been eased with her training. If only the other worries could be treated with a little bit of time and freeze-dried chicken bits. But who knows, maybe they can.