Wrigley Baltes 2007-2010

A few days after our baby boy passed away into doggy heaven, I had quite a bit of an emotional breakdown over it. My ever so loving husband was so comforting and understanding even though I was very angry. Scott and I both knew and agreed the option to put him to sleep was, number 1, the only way to protect him from hurting anybody and number 2, because his inability to be a normal social happy k-9 was giving him a lot of distress (in dog psychology terms). But although it was best for everyone else, I couldn't come to terms with it being the best thing for me. I missed his playful, adventurous, cuddly personality. We absolutely adored him. How could you not fall in love with an innocent wrinkly puppy dog face waking you up every morning with his paw up on your bed. His big brown eyes begging me to take him outside for an adventure.
I wanted that time with him again. Giving a dog what he truly needs to be stable, happy, and loyal is very gratifying. Wrigley was a very obedient dog. If you ever met him, you may not think so if he tried to bite you or your dog. But underneath the bad habits he picked up from not being properly socialized, was a smart bully ready to learn anything for a small reward. All I kept dwelling on in my mind was what a great dog he should have been. I was angry at his original owners for being ignorant about a breed that can very easily revert to his natural hunting instincts if not socialized and trained properly. Scott and I were one of the only two people he trusted. And I wished we had been the ones raising him from a puppy. Training, teaching, and loving him into an obedient, balanced, happy bulldog.
While trying to comfort me in the best way he knew how, Scott encouraged me to write about Wrigley, what he taught us, and my feelings about losing our dog. I wanted to, but was definitely overwelmed by many emotions and I wasn't able to organize all my thoughts into some written production of him. Just moments before beginning this post, I told Scott I just couldn't think of what to write. I think it's hard because I still really miss him. Which is sort of ironic because, in the past before we had Wrigley, I always found it hard to completely sympathize with people who lost their pet. I always felt like "it's just a dog, it's sad, but you'll get over it". (yes, I know that sounds really mean!!) I am a very caring person, especially for someone grieving a lost loved one. I have to say that it was only because I hadn't ever dealt with that. I wasn't overly emotional when our 2 dogs Pi and Bear were put to sleep, and they had been in our family for over 10 years!
Adopting Wrigley gave me, and definitely Scott as well, a new found love for all animals and dogs especially. I have seen first hand what happens to a dog when its neglected, humanized and ultimately abused by an ignorant owner. I thought love, affection, food, shelter and medical attention was what dogs needed to be happy. With Wrigley, I learned I was wrong, not entirely, but mostly. I imagine he was loved and played with a lot when he first arrived in his new human home as a puppy. (have you ever seen a bulldog puppy? how could you not cuddle one?!) I bet he was VERY playful. He had a lot of energy, all the time, even after an hour walk/run with me and Scott. A puppy with that much energy needs taming if he's going to live in a human environment. I'm guessing his energy level got to be too much for is owners and instead of spending MORE time training him and showing him boundaries, he was left outside, alone, with pent up energy eager to explore. A death sentence for a bully breed dog. (unfortunately and literally) Scott and I learned from watching the Dog Whisperer on tv that there were 3 things a dog truly needed to be balanced. Exercise, discipline, and affection...in that order! With Wrigley, we learned through mistakes that this was very true! It's obvious, a high energy dog needs exercise. And when you think about it, before humans domesticated dogs, they lived out in the wild. And what else would they be doing but running around together as a pack! So that part was easy. Then came discipline, something I struggled with because all I wanted to do was give him a big hug for making a mistake and jump right into the affection part! He always looked so apologetic when we would find him snuggled up on the couch, or hovered over a slobbered chewed flip flop of mine. It was Scott that could always see the importance of giving him boundaries. I wanted him on the bed with me snuggling, but as soon as we allowed that, the bed became HIS property and every once in awhile would get a burst of energy running rampant around the apartment, up on the bed messing it all up while we chased him back and forth in an effort to calm him down. LOL. At the end of day, when I would go to great efforts to extend boundaries and limitations to Wrigley, I was ultimately satisfied with my obedient dog, and more importantly relieved of all the stress he caused me. 
A whole year of repeating the same day after day routine with Wrigley was, in hindsight, very rewarding. And that brings me back to my moment of grieving, or more accurately put, my sob story. All I could think about was what we did for Wrigley to make him a balanced happy healthy dog. I felt so sorry for his predicament and the important tools he lacked to be a social dog. I knew I had to get over those feelings and move on to the memories my husband and I made with our first dog as a couple. Adoption is one of the best things you can do for an animal that needs taking care of. Instead of leaving Wrigley in his small cage on adoption day for someone else to deal with, we gave him a loving home for the last year of his short life. I am very excited to exercise, discipline, and love another dog in need of a home. Scott and I both have a big heart and a desire to help a lot more dogs. We both felt tremendous gratification in working with Wrigley, even though we were somewhat unsuccesful with that stubborn boy! I can't wait to see what our next dog will be like!
Love you Wrigs, forever,
your human mama