Sherlock - In Memory

TRIGGER WARNING: this post contains brief descriptions and graphic pictures of dog bites, a dog growling, and euthanization. There are warnings before each of the pictures containing such, but please do not continue if this upsets you. Thank you.

Getting the Puppy

Why it Happened

To go back to the beginning, I'd have to go back clear to when my depression first started, but if you want to read more about me and my depression, you can simply go to this blog post to find out when I first started talking about it openly. Being the purpose of this is to talk about my first puppy, I'm going to skip that. I'm also going to skip talking about my divorce in detail, that blog post can be found here.

All you need to know at this point is that I've suffered from depression for a long time, and after my divorce it got worse after I had to move back in with my parents, leaving my marital home, and found myself feeling lost. My parents, being the wonderful and supportive parents they are, haven't pushed me farther than I can go and wanted to help me how they could. So they thought the best way would be to get me a furry companion to fill part of that void left by my divorce.

Choosing the "Right" Puppy

Anyone who's ever chosen a puppy from a litter knows how hard it is. They're all so adorable, and for a first-time dog owner it's even more daunting trying to figure out what you want in a dog. All I knew was that I wanted to pick a dog I felt connected with. I mean how do you choose from those adorable puppy-dog eyes??? In the picture above, he's the puppy on the very right. One of the black puppies is out of frame, but there were three yellow and three black, five boys..and one girl. At first I wanted the girl more than any of them, but in the end I decided I didn't care so much about gender or color as I did about getting a puppy in general. 

I hadn't looked at other litters, because this litter belonged to my mom's coworker. So we'd not only be getting a good deal, but we knew where the puppy would come from. I made a list of my top 3 puppies, and "Honey" (his name in the litter) was second on my list behind the girl. The girl, however, ended up going to a family member that couldn't have a male dog, so I was more than happy to take my second choice in line, my first choice out of the males & yellow puppies (the female was black with some white).


Leading up to bringing him home, I got every piece of information I could about dogs in general as well about his breed mix in general. His dad was a yellow lab and the mom was a lab/border collie mix. We loved her sweet, happy, friendly temperament so we thought we'd love a puppy from her. There were many trips to the library for books to research, and twice as many trips to pet stores to get all the best supplies I could for my boy. I did everything I could to prepare for my puppy coming home. 

The day I brought him home happened to be my mom's birthday. It was the week after Thanksgiving and the puppies would be just over 8 weeks by then, and up-to-date on their 8 week vaccinations. So we went to get him and as you can tell by my face in the picture to the right, I was beyond happy to be getting sniffed and kissed by my fur ball. 

Life as a First-Time Dog Owner

Training Sherlock P.h.d.

He was so much fun to get used to, both my boys did crate training, so they had very few accidents indoors. I got to training him to sit, lay down, and shake right away. It was clear from early on how smart he was. In my research I'd read that both labs and border collies are so smart, half of them should have P.h.d.s. That was the perfect description for my clever, little pup, so my mom gave him the nickname "Sherlock P.h.d." He was so quick to learn everything I taught him. For any fellow Harry Potter fans out there, I'm certain he would've been in Ravenclaw.

In the first few months he'd already learned to sit, lay down, shake with both paws, play dead, roll over, and other non-command things like running halfway up the stairs to wait for the ball to be thrown there. My dad used to play a game with him where he'd throw the ball down to Sherlock where you couldn't see him, but you didn't hear anything, meaning that he'd caught the ball before it hit the ground.

Eventually I was trying to keep up with stimulating his mind as much as he needed. I ended up building him a small agility course outside with a jump & weave poles, but inside I used boxes and our piano bench to practice his crawling and jumping, as you can see in this video. If he'd lived long enough, I'm sure I could've gotten him into some dog sports and he would've won a few competitions. He had plenty of agility and focus.

The First Sign

Working with my boy was so much fun. He was definitely a smart puppy, and I loved watching his mind work things out. The first time I noticed something was wrong was when I was trying some "food possession desensitizing" I'd learned in his puppy class. This was when he was about 5 months old. I was putting my hand by his bowl, petting him, and then putting my hand in his bowl while he was eating. That was the first time he bit me. It happened very quickly, and he didn't keep going after me, so I assumed the food possession was all there was to it, and was careful not to stick my hand in or by his food while he was eating again. I'd always use an extension of my arm, like a back scratcher, if I wanted to practice the exercise again. 

TRIGGER WARNING: BRUISE FROM DOG BITE

Bruise from my first dog bite

This is when I learned that a dog bite can bruise, a lot. In my case, the force my dog used when he bit me bruised the skin around it, making the bite look worse than it was for a minor incident. I kept it under a bandage until it went away, but knowing it was my dog and thinking it was a one-time accident I didn't tell anyone except a few family members. He was up-to-date on all his vaccinations, and it didn't penetrate my skin too deep, so I just cleaned it really well.

The Cabin Trip

The rest of March and all of April went by without anymore problems from Sherlock, so I assumed I was right with thinking it was just the food aggression and nothing more. He kept getting smarter and learning more tricks, responding quicker, and loved going to dog parks and meeting friends. He also passed his puppy training class, so I thought that was it for obedience class with others. There were a few dogs at the dog parks he made friends with that he'd keep going back to, so he seemed to be doing well socially. He had a couple disagreements with other dogs, but it never led to anything more than a brief nip. The other dog owners were understanding and no serious damage was done so they never chose to sue us or anything like that.


His focus in sports had also increased. He had a hard time learning the concept of catching a frisbee midair at first, but it didn't take him long, and in no time he was a pro at it. That, and one of the dog parks we went to had a small agility course in its own section, so he practiced going through tunnels and over an A-frame which was completely new to him. The focus he showed just deepened our appreciation of how smart he really was.





Memorial Day Weekend came and my family was preparing to go to our extended family's cabin in the Uinta Mountains. Getting permission to take my puppy as long as I drove up myself, I packed up everything I'd need for a couple days in the outdoors with my now 7 month old pup. He loved sniffing all the quaking aspen and squirrel smell he could get a whiff of, and I was enjoying time with my boy and family away from the city. 


Saturday we went for a hike down to a few ponds a couple miles from the cabin. It's a pretty easy hike, with one long hill partway through. Of course I brought Sherlock for the smelliest walk he's ever been on. We stopped by the ponds to take pictures, relax, and eat snacks before getting ready to head back up to the cabin. The thought hit me that Sherlock had never been swimming, and this pond wasn't deep. I wouldn't swim in it, but that's because it's cold, and the plants in ponds make me uneasy when they touch my feet. 

I decided to see if Sherlock would like to swim, it was a fairly warm day, and with the hike we went on we needed to cool down. He started putting his feet in with my encouragement, and gently inched toward sticks I kept throwing within stepping distance for him. Gradually I increased the distance I threw the sticks, and he finally decided to take the plunge and jump in. He loved it. I remembered thinking when I got him that he'd be a good swimmer when I'd felt the webbing in his paws, but it'd been too cold outside for me to think of trying it since I got him in Winter. Here's a video of my water-loving pup enjoying himself:

After the hike we were all exhausted, so everyone went about to relaxing. Most of the people were inside, except my niece and I went outside to chill with Sherlock. At one point I was sitting in our tire swing with Sherlock laying on the ground, I was just talking to my niece when out of nowhere Sherlock attacked my arm that'd been hanging down. I had no idea what had happened. My arm was just out of the swing while I'd been sitting there. Had he been startled? Was he grumpy from being tired after swimming and the hike? Had my arm been mistaken for something else? 

Whatever happened, I was left in shock as I told my 6 year old niece to get help. She left to get an adult and say that "Sherlock did something bad to Alyson". We cleaned the bite really well and bandaged it, and Sherlock spent awhile chilling in his crate to relax and cool down after what happened. Understandably, I was upset and uncertain about interacting with Sherlock. My niece was also wary of him and didn't want to play with my puppy anymore. After the shock died down, I was still wary of him, but I was mostly thinking it had nothing to do with me. Which I was partially right.

Memorial Day Continued

The rest of the cabin trip was okay, we were all watching Sherlock closely, but he didn't seem to be acting differently. Maybe it was grumpiness to the extreme after all. We went home and on actual Memorial Day everyone was going to Farmington, UT to their Station Park shopping center for ice cream. My brother, who's in the army, was going to be leaving for a new station in Korea, so we were trying to do as much as possible together before he left. I brought Sherlock since both shops I wanted to go to were dog friendly, but stayed outside when my family went to get ice cream. I sat at one of the picnic tables and waited while my dad ordered before he could come hold him while I went to order. Wasn't long before we were all sitting there enjoying our ice cream together. 

My older niece, at the time 9 years old, walked by and Sherlock wagged his tail at her. I pointed this out to her and she came over to say hi. She wasn't wary even after the incident with me, she wasn't there, but she'd been told about it and had seen my bandages. At our house she would often ask to go outside to play fetch with Sherlock, and he seemed to really like her. She reached down to pet him, and he lunged for the second time that weekend. 

To say it was horrifying would be an understatement. A dozen emotions flashed through me: shock, embarrassment, shame, guilt, fear, confusion, anger, frustration, etc. After apologizing as earnestly as I could while leaving to remove him from the situation, I immediately left with him to prevent further damage.

On the way home I kept talking to him, asking him why he kept doing this and crying because I was at a loss for what to do. I went to the pet store on the way home, making sure he didn't get close to anyone, and bought a muzzle I thought looked good. I didn't have much knowledge about these things, but I was getting worried that he'd bite someone on a walk or something.

Relationship Course

That's when my brother-in-law who I hadn't known long (My sister had only gotten married to him a few months prior.) told me to talk to a trainer he knew. I knew she did training, as she'd come to my house in March to take pictures of him, and we'd talked about his energy and other dog-related things. So I contacted her, desperate for any help that might save my dog. This was when the first thought of him possibly needing to be euthanized came into my head. If we couldn't find a solution, we couldn't have a dog who might attack at any moment.

Luckily this trainer had had a lot of experience with aggressive and reactive dogs. For those who don't know the difference, the AKC has a better way of describing the difference than I do:

“Aggression can be due to guarding territory or protecting a family member, resource guarding, fear, frustration, prey drive, and/or pain. Reactivity: Reactivity is commonly confused with aggression. Dogs that are reactive are those that overreact to certain things or situations.”

We set up a training plan and I started meeting with her every week.

Training started and I started to learn so much about dogs I didn't already. I learned that the muzzle I'd gotten him wasn't good. It was one of those mesh ones that fit tightly around their snout, but they do not allow the dog to breathe properly or to be able to drink. I got him a basket one instead and my trainer taught me how to practice with him by teaching him to put his snout in the muzzle instead of me forcing him to do it. Anytime we went out into public he had to be wearing it, which I was fine with, if it meant I could take my dog out without worrying about an attack happening, I would be thrilled.

We went through an 8-week Relationship Course with the trainer, and started to see improvement. He wouldn't growl or lunge where he might've before, but he was still unpredictable. Often, even around the dogs he trained with who he'd been training with for a couple months now, he was still uncomfortable and show signs that he might lunge, but never brought it to the extreme of attacking like he had before. 

My trainer, from a training standpoint, was worried he had CRS - Canine Rage Syndrome or Sudden Onset Idiopathic Aggression - an incurable disease in dogs that causes them to be aggressive for no apparent reason. She has dealt with several dogs that have had this, so has had the experience to know what to look for. The best way to deal with this if you suspect it in your dog is to go to your vet, which is what my trainer recommended to me. Leaving it alone is the worst way to treat a problem the dog has, as it doesn't get them the treatment they need.

"Sometimes labeled 'Springer Rage,' SOIA is most common in Springer and Cocker spaniels; but has also been reported in Border Collies, Rottweilers, Bernese Mountain Dogs, and several other breeds." - This article has excellent information on CRS or SOIA

He wasn't officially diagnosed with it however, so we'll never know if he really did have this. My vet thought that he could've had CRS, or that he might've had a brain tumor which was causing the change in behavior, but due to the symptoms we were able to rule out other issues it might've been. Everything happened so fast we weren't worried so much as to what the official diagnosis as we were in helping him manage it from day-to-day. Whatever it was, he was born with, and it was a neurological issue of some kind. 

After discussing his issues and my concerns with the vet, he prescribed Prozac that can in some cases help with problems such as these. We were to try it and come back in a couple weeks to see how it'd worked.

A Neurological Issue

Though we did see improvement from where he'd started, he was still reactive and would growl at me sometimes. I had to call my trainer once because he'd snarled at me when I went to take his muzzle off, and was scared of him biting me once I got it off. She came over with help and he was put into his crate to chill with no one getting hurt. 

Sherlock and his friend Molly (Catahoula/Heeler Mix)
 playing together

While it may have helped somewhat, his growling and snarling continued, and at this point the only dog he could be around without his muzzle on was our neighbor Molly. He'd known her since he came home, and they were good friends. I never saw anything to suspect either one didn't like the other and he never even growled at her. We continued with his training, opting to go for an additional training course after the relationship course one ended.

The Deciding Factor

TRIGGER WARNING - This entire section deals with the description and Images of bite from dog attack

Sherlock with a bowtie
from Barkbox on

My little boy was not so little anymore. He was almost full-size, and I was starting to think of what we should do for his birthday. I thought that I might try to make him a cake myself. He'd probably eat anything, and it was a month and a half away now. I thought of all the things I wanted to do for or with him. It was still hot now, maybe I'd take him swimming again before the summer was over. He'd love that for sure.

Occasionally I let him sleep on my bed, and I hadn't had any issues with that yet so I continued it. I was going to let him sleep on my bed for some snuggling because I was already going to bed late due to insomnia and reasons I can't remember now. I let him jump up on my bed while I got ready, and he laid down. 

Once ready, I went to get in bed and didn't want to startle him, so I talked to him a little bit, but he was laying right up at the top of my covers. As I reached up to grab my covers and pull them back, he lunged out. I'll never be able to describe accurately the sound a dog makes when it's biting to attack, but it makes it more traumatizing. He bit me around my arm and then pulled back, not shaking or anything, just looking at me as he came out of his hazed look. 

 Dog bite on top of my arm

Dog bite on underside of my arm

He obeyed when I told him to get in his crate, and I locked him in before going to take care of my bite. I was sobbing before I realized I was crying, because in the back of my mind I just knew I couldn't keep him anymore, and that thought killed me inside. While applying pressure to my puncture marks, I sobbed as I asked him over and over why he kept doing this, and that I didn't know what to do anymore.

After the initial shock wore off, I knew a bandaid wasn't going to cut it for this bite, and I went upstairs to get my mom. It was about 4 in the morning at this point, I'd spent awhile crying after the bite to calm down. She came out and I sobbed as I told her what happened, and showed her the bite. We decided that even a butterfly bandaid wasn't going to be good enough, and that I needed to go the ER. That'd be the only place open to help this early. She drove me and after waiting for a little bit there the area was numbed and stitched up. 

Stitches on 2nd puncture

Stitches on first bite

After I got home and it got to be a decent hour, I called my trainer to tell her what happened. She assured me that I had done everything in my power to help him, but the problem with the neurological disorder he had was clearly not going to be fixed with training.

She emphasized that she was so impressed with improvements he'd made due to his incredible intelligence. He'd learned so much in the area of tricks, obedience, manners, and problem-solving that when he wasn't overtaken by his disorder you could argue he was one of the smartest dogs there was. He definitely lived up to his namesake: Sherlock Holmes.

The downfall was that he was back-tracking from the tolerance he'd once had and had become a danger to everyone around him. Over the next couple days, it was decided that he needed to be put down. We couldn't keep a dog who could attack unexpectedly, nor would I want to put that on someone else. 

Final Days

I spent his last few days a complete mess, but my trainer was so supportive and asked me if I'd like to take Sherlock swimming in the river with her there, to make his last days some of his best.

He absolutely loved it. We spent not just the day before, but also the morning of his euthanizing at the river. My trainer used my nice camera to get pictures of Sherlock and I at the river, he was completely at home fetching the stick in the water, and I'll never forget how we spent those last precious days. 

I also got him a McDonald's ice cream cone to have all to himself, cone and all, and to no surprise
he downed it.

The time I'd been dreading arrived, and both of my parents made sure they were able to come
with me to be a support as I was sure to have a melt down from everything. I can't describe
what it's like to have to put an animal down, but I've done it with my rabbit (due to health issues
and being too old to fix it) and then with Sherlock. 

Unfortunately and a little bit fortunately, Sherlock must've picked up on all of our uneasiness,
because he reacted negatively while we were waiting in the room. I hadn't brought his muzzle
because I didn't want my last memories of him being with a muzzle on. We were at a stand still
when the vet came in, but he was luckily skilled in dealing with dogs. No one was hurt as he
was able to muzzle Sherlock with his leash while he gave him the anesthesia before the
euthanizing shot. The reason I say a little bit fortunately, is because it reminded me that I was
doing what I had to, and that this was necessary for everyone involved.

After a minute, we went outside and laid Sherlock down on the grass, I sobbed as I sat
on the ground to pet him while the medicine kicked in. Once I was sure he wasn't going
to snap at me, I got close to put my head on his side, listening to his breathing like I used to.

The moment I realized he was gone

Waiting for him to calm down, but staying close

It wasn't long before he faded away, and it was over.

Ending Thoughts

Of course I was a complete mess on the way home, and I immediately took down his crate
and any of his belongings and put them in our spare room. I couldn't bear looking at them
knowing he'd never use them again. I'd taken his collar, and I plan to make a memorial ornament
out of it with a part of his puppy blanket and his id tag. My parents had ordered a paw print for me,
which I would get a few weeks later. By that point I'd have Dartagnan (that's a whole other story,
which I'll link here once I write it), and I had something to remember Sherlock by forever.

Please think before you breed your dogs. Ask yourself many questions, and if you answer no to any of them,
pause and think if this is really a good idea. Do health and temperament testing, don't breed a dog
who has undesirable traits, and know that purebred doesn't always mean well-bred. Look for a
reputable trainer in your area and ask them if they do litter or adult evaluations as my trainer did
for me with Dartagnan.

Sherlock was 3/4 Lab and 1/4 Border Collie. Many families have these dogs and they're wonderful
companions if trained properly and given the right tools to succeed. Because this is a genetic
disorder and incurable, it doesn't matter if they're a mix or purebred, any dog can end up with this
terrible medical condition. Be smart, and do your research.