OK, it hasn't been all roses and sunshine, but for the most part, everyone got along. Then we moved to Georgia. Nothing has been the same since.
|My three fur babies hanging out in our hotel room on our cross-country drive|
In the new house, everything was different. They couldn't stand each other. There were fights. Blood was drawn. Then there was the worst night. The night everything changed for good.
|Staying with family, a few days before we moved into out new home|
My mom put the key in the door. Meatball barked. I saw Harriet and Petunia glare at each other. Then they started to fight. I scooped up Petunia into my arms in an effort to stop it from getting worse.
I had a solitary moment where I thought that the crisis had been averted. Suddenly, Harriet jumped up after Petunia, and caught her tail in her mouth. That is when she bit the tip off. It happened so fast that I wasn't even aware of what took place until the damage was done.
|Harriet and Petunia, the first few weeks in our new home|
|The last picture of everyone together, before our "new normal"|
We had Harriet tested for thyroid issues (which can lead to a drastic change in behavior), and everything checked out ok. We went to a dog behaviorist, and that only served to provide a band-aid for a problem that obviously wasn't going to go away. Things didn't get better. We just learned how to work around them. Stress levels were at an all time high. I read as much as I could on the subject to try to figure out our next steps.
One of our neighbors recommended a consultation with a new behavioral specialist that specifically deals with aggression. They had experienced some of the same types of issues with their dogs, and this seemed to make it better. I made an appointment, which is coming up soon. I still have that nagging question in the back of my mind, "If this doesn't work, then what?". I don't know how this story is going to end, but I am hanging on to hope.