Ahhh… the bane of my pet owning existance. I love him but he is a real problem child sometimes.
His story starts at the Humane Society of Central Pennsylvania.
In late summer 2004, my Grandma had to be rushed to the hospital and we thought she was going to die. We all flew back to see her. It was hairy for a while but she started to pull out of it. I ended up deciding to stay for a while which was good because when Grandma came home, I was able to keep an eye on her and make sure she took her medicines.
I’d been very active in Chihuahua Rescue and very bonded with one of the residents who I planned to adopt “as soon as I could” but with no clear idea when that would be.
Naturally being away from there, I missed being with the dogs and so when I could, I borrowed a car and went out to CPHS and took the dogs out for outdoor time in one of the fenced yards for that purpose.
They didn’t really have any small dogs but they did have Elmo. That’s his Petfinder picture.
To see him in the cage was a bit nerve wracking because he was huddled and shaking at times and generally distressed.
He’d been found by the roadside somewhere and brought in but was so freaked out and scared that the CPHS officers were afraid to examine him even to see if he was neutered.
But nervous, scared, or even semi aggressive dogs didn’t phase me because there were plenty of those at Chihuahua Rescue and I was used to helping to re-socialize them.
So I took Elmo to the yard and he became a very different dog. He leapt high in the air with excitement for toys or for running or just for me to look at him.
The fact that I was missing Captain so much definitely helped push me over the edge into deciding to find a way to adopt him. If I recall, by then I was thinking about moving back to Pennsylvania and spending time with my family back there. Real estate was definitely a lot cheaper and even though the jobs wouldn’t be as high paying, I felt that I could find something.
Uncle Charlie actually did the adoption for me since I wasn’t a resident but boy was Elmo happy to come home to me.
He reminded me so much of the jackal god that I really wanted to call him Anubis. But I also really liked the name Bastian which has two connotations for me. First, the first dog I ever loved deeply that I can remember was named Sebastian. Shortening it to Bastian would be a nice way to honor Sebastian’s memory. Second, I love the Never Ending Story and one of the lines that has always stuck with me is at the end when the Empress is calling out “Bastian! Call my name! PLEASE!!”. So there you go.
I couldn’t decide so I left it to the family to pick and it was unanimous for “Bastian”.
Bastian is a very charming dog. Everyone became fond of him quickly. And having a dog around again prompted Uncle Charlie to adopt another dog for himself, Jake.
But then I ended up having to go back to CA for my mom which nixed my plans to move to PA, so Bastian had to come with me. That was an odd but overall fun experience. I walked Bastian into the airport all the way up to the gate. At security, I took his collar & leash off and carried him through the metal detector, but then I got picked for extra screening so that was a circus act for me trying to grab his leash & collar and get back on him so that I could put him down and let myself be wanded… holding his leash in my hand. He was perfectly behaved through all that. He was nervous but trusted that things were ok cause I was there (and I wasn’t afraid or upset at all the commotion & noise of the airport).
At the gate, I finally had to put him in his “carrier” which was simply a $14 duffle bag with mesh side pockets. I’d cut the inside barriers out to merge the pockets with the main bag space and therefore create mesh windows for Bastian. He DID NOT LIKE THIS. As it was, I was running late and was literally the last person on the plane, I just barely made gate. The gate attendant helped me manuever him into the bag and I carried him on.
While we were sitting waiting for clearance to get on the runway and take off, I noticed the passengers to my left reacting to something. Since I was paranoid that he was going to have a fit underneath the seat where I had to put his duffle, I leaned over and looked and found Bastian in the aisle. One of the zippers hadn’t closed all the way so he’d been able to push it open and went out the other side in between the feet of the people in front of me. Whoops.
Got him back inside the bag and underneath the seat. And as soon as we were in the air and had leveled out for a while, I let him out onto my lap. I don’t remember asking the flight attendants if it was ok or not but I figured if it wasn’t they’d tell me to put him back. The flight wasn’t very full, I had my row of 3 seats to myself so no other passenger in the immediate vicinity to worry about. I ended up stretching out on the three seats on my side and sleeping most of the way. Bastian slept on me, laying over my hip. At one point, I had to go to the bathroom, so I tucked his leash into an upright arm rest and asked the people across the aisle to keep an eye on him. They were dog lovers and were happy to do so. And he was good, just curled up on the seat waiting for me to come back.
Probably, because he was quiet (he never made a peep that I heard) and well behaved, the attendants didn’t say a word til we were on approach to land and they were making sure all trays were up and the like. Just like on take off, I had to put him back for landing.
He found a new friend in Lucy, my mom’s dog, to replace Jake. He tried to bully her as he did Jake but she put a quick end to that. Mom & I heard him scream when that happened but it was over as quick as it started because she just showed him who was boss. And he never tried it again. They played together a lot.
Over the past year and change, since I moved to Hollywood, he became more and more aggressive towards my other dogs, Weston & Captain. This is why he’s become a problem child for me. He’s on anti-anxiety medicine which seems to be helping him a lot. He’s more relaxed and not so wound up.
Really, I had no business adopting a terrier mix. His energy needs are more than I can fulfill and I don’t have another dog that can “play” it out of him. But what’s done is done, I made the commitment and I will keep it. The meds are helping and I’m working on myself to get back into shape where taking him for good long walks is no longer daunting.
One thing that brings him a lot of joy these days is visiting his friend, Angus, who lives across the way (difficult to describe but our doors mostly face each other over a stairway going down to the pool). He’ll run over and wait in front of Angus’s door hoping that the door will open for him to go inside.
It’s gotten to the point where he’s had a lot of sleep overs at their house. While it feels weird to not have him in the house, I’m fine with it because Weston is able to let down his guard and relax completely without the bully around. Those nights, I’ll find Weston actually playing with the many toys around the house.
Other times, I’ll come home to find Bastian gone because Angus came and got him for a visit. One time he left a ransom style note on my door which I still have. Angus’s taken him down to the local coffee house a number of times as well and says Bastian behaves very well.
However, it’s been a while since Bastian has had regular visits because Angus’s pig is sick with bad skin cancer and she doesn’t like Bastian at all. Normally they mostly left each other alone but for an occasional “poke poke poke” annoying of each other. But with her being so sick, not good for her to have anyone around harrassing her in her home so the visits are now few and far between and only for a hour or two.
Bastian’s my wild child. He can be annoying but every so often he drops his “tough dog” demeanor and comes snuggling up to me to be loved. Since he started taking the medicine, he’s been more affectionate. There’s even been a few nights lately where I can tuck him in between my arms like a child with a teddy bear and we’ll go to sleep like that.
For about a year now, he’s been starting to show his age. His muzzle used to be all black but the hair on his chin has gone completely gray now and it’s starting to creep into the rest of his face. His age was estimated to be 4 yrs when I adopted him so that makes him 7 now. I count his adoption day, Sept 5th, as his birthday so he’ll be 8 this year.