brin – a dog from afghanistan

So the day came.

Nearby there is a forest. A beautiful ancient forest entwined with history dating back to the Norman times.

I had never been there before, as my dogs had always loved the local walk than runs just behind our house. For Brin, this would not have been suitable as it’s long narrow paths were also frequented by cyclists and joggers and I felt to face the possibility of locals being eaten was not the best way forward.

Setting off on a cool spring morning I arrived at the car park and scanned the area for any sign of trouble in the form of owners and dogs. Brin was up at the window also scanning. It was all clear.

Using my ‘wait! or I will slam the door on you for next 60 minutes’ voice Brin did as he was told and I opened the door to take hold of the lead.

I did not know just how big this forest was but I could see was well trodden paths that led down into, what I hoped, would be good experience for this little brown dog..so off we went together on our first adventure ‘into the wild’.

I decided to take, what seemed, the quieter less populated path as I wanted to avoid too much confrontation on our first major walk together.

Somehow, I must have taken a wrong turn.

Deeper and deeper into thick forest we went and Brin, in his ever helpful fashion, decided to sniff each and every leaf, petal and blade of grass. This was quite incredible to watch as he would close his eyes and seemingly drink in what ever he had zoned in on. He was also incredibly stubborn.

Dogs from Afghanistan have very large, webbed feet that seem to become suction pads when they decide to stop to explore. Nothing will budge them and to save my arm from being pulled out of its socket I slowed my pace to allow him his moments. Everything was totally new to him and I really wanted him to enjoy the learning process of becoming a normal dog.

He also spent ages looking up trees until he was satisfied with whatever he was looking for wasn’t, in fact, there. Diving down critter dens, digging up mole-hills all became part of his first trek experience and soon every step was taking longer than the one before.

Eventually, we came to a clearing where a wide lake, full of ducks, rippled and glittered in the mid-day sun.

A passing Coot, who drifted by, caught Brin unawares and I suddenly had visions of swimming while hanging on to him for dear life. Thankfully, he just followed it with his eyes and continued with his endless search for the perfect smell.

Keeping an eye out for dogs, we were able to continue our walk but I seriously had no idea where we were.

Two hours later Brin and I were getting deeper and deeper into the forest and I was becoming exhausted. Because of the path we were on I had not seen or heard anyone for all that time and I had no signal on my phone.

Sitting down on tree stump to rest, Brin waited patiently by my side happily rooting around in the undergrowth. Suddenly, he shot across the path leaving me no time to react other than holding on tight to the lead.

Running with him was not an option, as he had moved so fast I had no time to stand up so ended up on my knees clinging desperately to the nearest tree, a young sapling, that lifted gracefully out of the ground and travelled with me in a peculiar dance spectacle that rivalled Fred Astaire.

Brin, thankfully, came to a sudden halt and began to bark furiously up a tree and, from where I was laying, I spied a young squirrel gazing down at me as if I was some new kind of nut.

So there and then I knew there was yet another no go item to add to my list of ‘Brin avoidance’ moments.

One hour later and I made it back to the car park, battered, covered in mud and slightly bruised but trailing a happy but tired little brown dog who jumped in the car and promptly fell asleep.

The next day I bought serious, heavy-duty walking boots in my determination to stay on my feet for longer the next time we ventured out together…

Other problems were arising.

Brin had a dislike of young men, sudden footsteps and doorways.

Wherever I was, Brin would be stuck to me like glue and because of this he took to protecting me from everything and everyone, including my youngest son.

I had become his lifeline and he was going to make sure I was always in his sight.

The dogs also became a little wary and would slink around trying to become invisible and this was not a good situation to be in.

Discipline was not going to be easy for it had taken so long to gain his trust that any form of deprivation or punishment by removing him completely from a situation was going to be tough so I sought advise from a trainer.

Brin greeted her on her arrival and we spent a while talking about his past and the problems that were occurring. She agreed this was no ‘ordinary’ dog but we already knew that.

Although I had worked hard with him already and taught him to stay, sit and wait the issues of protecting me were the real focus of why I needed help.

Out came ‘Clickers’, treats and toys from a very hefty black bag and my heart sank. This was not a dog that could be tricked and despite all she was telling me I knew that none of this was going to make a difference to Brin. Contempt came from his eyes as he listened to the clicker click away in his ear as if say ‘really?…you think that is going to work on me?..fat chance’…

I then sought further advise from an animal healer friend who has worked with all kinds of animals and achieved amazing results. Pippa came and spent time just sitting with Brin and laying her hands across his back. To witness his reaction was humbling and he lay on the ground as if melting away. There were few people that could touch him like this as his ribcage and tail area were extremely sensitive, both mentally and physically, to this dog who had suffered such horrific abuse at the hands of the Taliban.

Two more sessions later and the difference in him was becoming evident and, although, he would never become a totally relaxed soul, he seemed to be starting to let go of many of the tensions that overshadowed his recovery.

One of the problems I had, and eventually solved, was Brin leaping from the car whenever I opened the door to let him out. This could be pretty frightening, especially near the busy road where I live. I had begun to learn my own ‘superpowers’ and managed to achieve complex physical contortions that I had no idea I was capable of while trying to stop him flying through the door. In my frustration, when one day he leapt over the parcel shelf and out of the open boot, I took to extreme measures.

In a quiet street I parked up and went to open the door. Brin was ready for action but I was quicker. Every time I opened the door I would slam it shut, causing him to back away onto the seat. Every time I did this I would shout ‘wait!’. Over and over I did this, until I was exhausted and he had stopped rushing forward. It took, in all, over 2 hours in total. I drove my car to another area and repeated the whole exercise and to my amazement Brin made no moves towards the door as I opened it and I was able to reach in and take his lead.

To this day Brin will not come out of the car unless I say so, even if my other dogs have left already. It was a huge relief and I was able to feel less on a knife-edge every time I took him out.

Our next step would be the forest…