At the end of the first week, Koko had a bite record - five total - a vet, 2 vet techs, my husband, and me. Because of liability issues, the rescue was headed toward euthanizing him. There's that gut feeling again - I asked for more time knowing full well he would not be adopted out.
I socialized him with my lab/rott female, a full 90 pounds larger than he was, and she liked him. We started pasture therapy with a 25 foot line so I could drape it over his back from time to time to get him used to a leash touching him. He needed to learn to relax on a leash, and he needed to stop fearing the world. He found something that he loved to do - chase butterflies in the hay field. We worked on recall, and after a week, I could turn him loose to just be a dog, and he would come back to me. One day it started to sprinkle, and when the rain hit him, he took off like a bat out of ____ for the house. Water was our next biggie.
About that time, a woman actually requested to adopt him. She called numerous times and insisted that she could handle him, and I cautioned her not to try to bathe him, but to leave him with me till I could rehab him past his fear of a bath. For the first four days she had him, she called telling me he was "the perfect dog" (I knew better), and casually mentioned that she wanted to give him a bath. Again, bring him back and let me do it, but she tried it herself. On the fifth day she called saying "he's the dog from hell, and I am bringing him back!" If you're going to be dumb, you better be tough.
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