[read pt 1 & pt 2 to catch up]

It’s hard to remember when the new behavior started – maybe a month & a half ago? I’m just not sure.

What I do know is that she was escalating & there was nothing I could do to stop it.

One afternoon she was playing with the neighbor’s dog in our backyard. Something she’d done from day one. And when the dog went to take a drink out of the dog bowl I had put out for Libby, Libby raced up to the bowl & barked at him.

It wasn’t a pleasant bark. It was a defensive, territorial, ‘get-away-from-the-bowl’ bark.

It caught me totally by surprise – I could even see the surprise in the little dog’s face. He sat there, big eyes blinking – trying to figure out what just happened. Libby was his friend.

But something had changed.

Libby began shooing Kitten away from the bowl inside the house – the one that they’ve all shared before without issue. And it was about the same time that Libby began taking Maggie’s treats away.

When we went on late afternoon walks, she would suddenly try to lunge at one of the neighborhood cats or Little One, our custodian’s sweet little Pekingese mix.

At first it was growls & whines of ‘you-have-to-let-me-go-get-her’.

And it wasn’t long until she started to growl & bark at people on the street. Then she began growling at children – even when they stood 50 feet away.

We were still working on her leash training & so in order to have her focus on the training, not the distractions, I began walking her late in the evening – just before dusk, when everyone would be inside.

But every now & then we would still come across one of the cats or Little One.

And one night on our way back into the complex, Little One was standing smack dab in the middle of the gate to get in.

I took it as an opportunity to work on disciplining Libby, getting her to focus on me – not the dog, a chance to try to stop this behavior altogether.

But the more I put my foot down, the more Libby began to rail against me.

And then it happened.

In Libby’s desperation to get Little One, she turned as if to bite my leg.

I knew she was trying to scare me into letting her go & I wasn’t buying it.

But Little One did.

With the ‘rrraaahhhhwwww’ sound Libby made & how close she got to actually biting me…Little One, gentle soul that she is, began defending me.

She barked & barked & barked. Standing her little ground – fussing at Libby, which only made Libby worse.

I wound up having to pick Libby up & carry her back home.

It was beyond frustrating.

In the house, while yes – Libby was becoming a bully – she still showed signs of sweetness. And it was easy sometimes to look at her & forget the violent nature she was beginning to exhibit outside.

So imagine everyday with more of the same.

More worrying when I began to take her out if we’ll run into another animal or another person…God forbid a child.

Everything was spiralling out of control.

And when the boy scouts began setting up their tents in our woods, I had to find another path to walk her at night.

So the next night we passed a new & very territorial Rottweiler mix owned by an American couple. Even though he was in their fenced backyard, I was still concerned.

It was a struggle to keep her under control & just get past him – even being as far away from him as possible. She kept trying to wiggle out of her collar.

And I knew we’d have to walk back past him to get home.

I was tired. I was frustrated. So on the way back I braced myself for the struggle – deciding to just pick her up & walk on.

And she was not happy about it.

She wanted that dog. That dog wanted her.

And this time, Libby wasn’t playing.

It happened in an instant.

The pain shot through my arm – and it went deep.

It hurt like Hell, started radiating down my arm & I knew…I just knew that I had to be bleeding – and badly.

But I didn’t let go of her.

I kept walking until we were far out of sight from the other dog before I put her down.

Through tears I stopped to check myself out.

Two deep puncture wounds in my upper arm. She had only got me with the right side of her mouth – otherwise, I’d have at least 4 – and I was bleeding internally.

I got her home. Got myself cleaned up. Cleaned out the wound.

And I couldn’t stop crying.

Crying over the physical pain – crying over the emotional pain.

What were we going to do with her?

[read what happened next]