The Ugly…
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Penny: Tornado of Destruction
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Pistol: Pet
Shop Dog
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23 Pounds of
Trouble
When I rescued my Basenji, Penny, she was very ill
with mange, hookworms, roundworms, dehydration, and malnutrition. While I had great hopes that
she would heal into a happy, healthy dog, the first few weeks were rough. She was hairless
and skittish, and she spewed diarrhea all over my living room the first moment after I
brought her home. Cleaning cost: $250.
She was very weak and could barely eat, so I thought, foolishly,
“What harm could this sick Basenji do if I left her alone for 20 minutes?” I had
heard the tales of separation-anxiety and destruction but assumed that she was too ill to
cause any damage. I had planned to crate her, but I felt so sorry for the sick thing, asleep
on the couch in the sun, that I left her alone.
That weak, sick, bald, timid little creature (who could
even climb stairs at this point) summarily and
completely destroyed the room where I left her. Here
is the list: She removed all the
molding around every window; removed the baseboards on every wall; gutted a sofa; trashed
the screens on every window; annihilated the mini-blinds on every window; removed the
screen door from its hinges and somehow mangled it into an almost-unrecognizable hunk of
twisted metal; severed three Ficus tree trunks; tore up the carpet in all four corners;
destroyed eight throw pillows; removed and shredded the cane seats of two chairs; toppled
six potted plants and dragged potting soil throughout the room; and capsized and broke a
glass-topped coffee table. Repair and replacement cost: $1,200.
This was while she weighed barely 15 pounds and had to be spoon-fed. The morals
of my story:
1. Do not ever underestimate the destructive power of your Basenji;
2. For the love of God, crate your Basenji;
3. Do not assume that your Basenji will “get over” any initial
separation-anxiety (last year I left her alone for 10 minutes and I replaced $400 worth of
mini-blinds).
If you can respect these constraints (which will vary from Basenji to Basenji, of
course), you can live in harmony with your beast . . . but you must never forget that
these animals never forget that you are human. :)
My experience with my Basenji? Oh, God, where to start . . .
We purchased our beloved Basenji from a pet shop. This was the first dog for my
husband and myself, and unfortunately, we were not aware of the horrible conditions in
which some dogs sold to pet shops are reared. Nor did we have much knowledge about this
particular breed.
Oh sure, we bought several books on
Basenjis before we made the final
decision, but ultimately these books glorified the breed and mentioned not one word
against it.
And of course the girls at the pet shop simply went along with every question we
asked, only wanting to make the sale and caring nothing for the puppy′s welfare. We asked
if the breed did well when left alone for long periods of time and we were concerned about
her problem with biting. (When you extended your hand to her, she would bite, bite, bite,
and bite harder till she almost drew blood.) The pet shop associates simply told us that
this was normal behavior for a puppy and that she would soon grow out of it. They also
told us that basenjis did well on their own, unsupervised.
Imagine our surprise when we brought the puppy home only to discover that her
behavior was more destructive and counterproductive than we could ever have dreamed in our
worst nightmares. We fought diligently against her behavior, trying to train her using all
information on dog training available. With each reprimand, she would grow more and more
hostile toward us, and if spoken to in even a slightly harsh tone, would run circles all
over the house, tearing up everything in her path.
We just could not understand what the problem could be. We read the training guides
over and over again, hoping that we had simply missed a step somewhere and that we were
the problem.
Long weeks of nerve wracking obedience training became more and more futile. With
every attempt to discipline her, she would become more aggressive toward us. It was then
that I first heard of the BRAT. We thought long and hard about giving her up, knowing that
she would probably be better off with someone who had experience with this particular
breed.
It was ultimately my husband's decision to keep her. I was all for letting her go in
hopes that she could find an owner more suited to her needs. We held on to our
little "Pistol," and two years later, we love her more than we could love
anything in the world. She is our pride and joy. With lots of thorough research and hard
work on our part, she has become an obedient, loving dog. She has come quite a long way
since the day we first brought her home.
Housebreaking was an ordeal from the beginning. Finally now she is beginning to
understand that she must go outside and not on the carpet. Left to her own devices,
however, she can still be very destructive. She cannot be left unsupervised unless she is
crated, even for short periods of time. She still chews everything in sight, and will
never come when she is called, especially when she is in danger.
We learned the hard way that our Basenji cannot be trusted off of the leash, when we
had let her outside to play one sunny day and she never made it back to the house. She was
looking up chasing a flock of birds and never saw the car before it hit her. She received
a severe concussion and some broken bones in her left rear leg. We rushed her to our vet
and not long after he recommended that we take her to an orthopedic surgeon at Auburn
University.
Almost $1,000 and an entire year later, we never let her off her leash outside, even
for a matter of seconds. Sometimes I pity her because I feel that her freedom has, in a
sense, been taken away, but she cannot be trusted.
Looking back now on all our experiences with our "Pistol," I realize that
maybe she didn't get that much better after all. We just got used to her temperament and
mannerisms and love her more with each passing day. When the time comes for us to say our
final good-byes (hopefully several years into the distant future), I know it will be
almost unbearable.
Owning a Basenji is not an easy task. In fact, it is next to impossible. But with
adjustments, acceptance, and constant love, we have made her an unforgettable and
wonderful part of our lives and we will cherish her always.
Elizabeth D. Lynn
Carrollton, GA
Ya wanna hear a reality story? My first Basenji—whew—now
that was a boy who taught me about Basenjis!
About 20 years ago, my son and I answered an ad for a Basenji for $75. When I walked
into their house I saw a large pile of debris in one room and I thought at first that they
were remodeling. Yeah, remodeling, right, Basenji-style!
We took home the youngster anyway and he was such a brat, although
nothing I hadn't already experienced with the German Shorthairs. Besides, this guy was a
little tiny thing, so what kind of damage could he do?
When I went to work, I didn't crate him. I was only going to be gone
six hours and so I thought a little guy like this shouldn't need a crate. When I returned home I walked in
to find about $10,000 worth of damage to the small rental house we lived in. The ball-feet
were chewed off the still-standing pecan dining room table; the couches and chairs were
down to the springs; drapes were down and shredded; door, window moldings, and sills were
gone; the rug was torn up off the floor; and the little dear was in the process of digging
through the wall to the outside. In fact, he was through the plaster, through the lathe,
and had reached the cedar siding when I caught him.
Amazingly, I didn't get angry, I was just so stunned! I was quite impressed with this
little Basenji's “abilities”. Needless to say, I bought him a crate.
Later that day I thought it best to take him with
me when I went to pick up my paycheck.
He wasn't crated in the car. I was gone five minutes at the most. When I returned (sigh) he
had done a number to the inside of the car: Steering wheel chewed through and half gone;
upholstery down to the springs—no piece of vinyl or cloth was where it had once been; he stripped the inside of the car. This made driving home quite uncomfortable and
interesting. After that he rode in a crate.
These are just two of the multiple horror stories we went through with this little
monkey. Still, I lived with and loved that little guy until the day he died at
eight years
old. And I thank him for teaching me his Basenji ways. Very good lessons learned,
though I wish I had been more prepared for his homecoming.
Sam Anderson
Washington State
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