December 28, 2009 —  For some years I’ve been taking photos of my dogs in the garden, especially Lenore, Izzy and Rose, who get the whole idea of photography – they are all working dogs – and happily pose for me. I never imagined Frieda sitting in the garden with them.

Frieda, for those of you who don’t know, is an eight-year-old Rottweiler/Shepherd mix, a rescue dog who Maria adopted (yes, for those of you who don’t know that, Maria is, in fact, my girlfriend) from a local shelter.

Frieda ran wild on the grounds of Adirondack Community College for nearly a year before some students, who also worked at a local animal shelter, finally corralled her. She lived outside. When she came her with Maria about a year ago, we had to keep her in the Studio Barn across the road and haul firewood out day and night through the winter to keep her warm.

The sight of my dogs drove her crazy, and she charged at them repeatedly, throwing herself at the fence and snarling and barking. We couldn’t even think of letting her in the house.

It was months before she would let me touch her, and she tried to kill most of the animals on the farm, and many that lived the woods. Frieda chased trucks, terrorized donkeys and sheep, ran off repeatedly after deer, rabbits, anything tht moved. I called her the Helldog. She sorely tested every theory I ever had about dogs and training. I was further motivated by the realization that if I didn’t get to Frieda, there would probably be no Maria.

A year later, we can hardly believe Frieda. She lies next to me while I write, dozes by the wood stove, eats next to the other dogs and today, for the first time, she was let out into the garden with them. It was a sweet moment, for her, me and for Maria. She and Rose did not get along for months, and now they nap next to one another. A lot of patience, calming training. Lenore helped socialize Frieda and welcomed and loved her. I am pretty fond of her myself. Nice to see that photo today. I never thought it would happen. Patience helps. Love works.