Judi, I had done plenty of research on the breed and had wanted a Maltese for years (after having a Bichon Frise as a teenager and knowing I wanted milder mannered dog -- the Bichon was a bit too hyperactive and nutty for me). When I began looking into Maltese rescue, as opposed to purchasing from a breeder, I had absolutely no clue as to what I was getting myself into.
The first week I had Rocco at home, I had to take off from work because his separation anxiety was so terrible that I was afraid for his safety. He would throw himself up against the door, sobbing and barking, the minute I left my apartment, even if it was to run around the corner to drop off the laundry. He was terrified of loud noises and wouldn't walk outside, nor would he do his business inside (even with paper or wee wee pads). I only can venture a guess as to why he wouldn't go inside, and that guess isn't a pleasant thought. So, for two months we would go outside my apartment building, where he would stand for a few minutes, continually lifting his leg and then doing his hunched circle dance to poop. He wouldn't budge from that spot. Gradually we got a bit further away, but each milestone involved a lot of shaking on his part, to the extent that I thought he was diabetic. After a panicked visit to the vet, it was determined simply to be his fear causing him to shake. Frightening to say the least. The other major issue I had to deal with was that Rocco wouldn't let anybody near me or near my bed. That included my husband (my fiance at the time). He would get into his "attack stance" and bare his little teeth (the few he had left). And "private time" with my husband is always interesting: Rocco on the floor, crying his eyes out, thinking that Daddy must be hurting Mommy, and he brings Daddy a "present" (his nylabone, which he never chews on) to get his attention. Sweet, but sad. We can only assume that he was exposed to a terrible domestic violence situation. We are his third (and last) home and are fortunate to have him in our lives. The growth he has experienced over the last year has been so dramatic and wonderful and makes me feel so proud knowing that I was the positive force in this furbaby's life.
The first week I had Rocco at home, I had to take off from work because his separation anxiety was so terrible that I was afraid for his safety. He would throw himself up against the door, sobbing and barking, the minute I left my apartment, even if it was to run around the corner to drop off the laundry. He was terrified of loud noises and wouldn't walk outside, nor would he do his business inside (even with paper or wee wee pads). I only can venture a guess as to why he wouldn't go inside, and that guess isn't a pleasant thought. So, for two months we would go outside my apartment building, where he would stand for a few minutes, continually lifting his leg and then doing his hunched circle dance to poop. He wouldn't budge from that spot. Gradually we got a bit further away, but each milestone involved a lot of shaking on his part, to the extent that I thought he was diabetic. After a panicked visit to the vet, it was determined simply to be his fear causing him to shake. Frightening to say the least. The other major issue I had to deal with was that Rocco wouldn't let anybody near me or near my bed. That included my husband (my fiance at the time). He would get into his "attack stance" and bare his little teeth (the few he had left). And "private time" with my husband is always interesting: Rocco on the floor, crying his eyes out, thinking that Daddy must be hurting Mommy, and he brings Daddy a "present" (his nylabone, which he never chews on) to get his attention. Sweet, but sad. We can only assume that he was exposed to a terrible domestic violence situation. We are his third (and last) home and are fortunate to have him in our lives. The growth he has experienced over the last year has been so dramatic and wonderful and makes me feel so proud knowing that I was the positive force in this furbaby's life.
