THE ZEUS DIARIES — PART FIVE - We're still not out of the woods.

Safe. Loved. Frustrated. And still waiting

I wish this was the update where I could tell you Zeus was healed.

That the bandages were off.

That the wound had closed.

That he was back running through the bush, swimming, socialising and making up for nine years of adventures he never got to have.

We're not there yet.

Zeus's wound still hasn't healed.

We're still attending the vet twice every week.

We're still making the nearly two-hour round trip because continuity matters for a dog who takes so long to trust.

And we're still spending around $500 every week on his ongoing veterinary care.

Our vets have very kindly given Zeus a 20% discount, which has genuinely helped and we're incredibly grateful for.

But week after week, it adds up.

Financially.

Physically.

Emotionally.

And we're tired.

Zeus is tired too.

This is probably the part that's hardest to watch.

Before all of this happened, we'd finally shown Zeus freedom.

Real freedom.

Bush.

Beaches.

New smells.

Dogs.

Adventures.

Running.

Exploring.

Experiencing a world he'd missed for most of his life.

And now his adventures are mostly at home.

With Gypsea.

The cat.

The chickens.

Us.

He's safe.

He's loved beyond words.

But he's frustrated.

He misses his freedom.

His world has become smaller — but we're doing everything we can to keep it full.

One thing I want to be really clear about is that Zeus isn't sitting at home completely isolated from the world.

In many ways, he's incredibly lucky.

I run a Dog business.

I understand his behaviour, I know the Dogs in my care, & I have the ability to carefully choose which Dogs I believe are safe & appropriate for Zeus to spend time with.

So when I can, I'll introduce him to a suitable Dog here at home.

Some of the friends he's already built relationships with come around to say hello.

He still has Gypsea.

The cat.

The chickens wandering around doing chicken things.

Our kids.

Our family.

Georgia. Her family.

His garden.

Enrichment.

Connection.

Love.

And we're constantly looking for little ways to give him something interesting & meaningful without compromising the healing of his leg.

So Zeus is lucky.

I know that.

He has access to things many Dogs recovering for this length of time simply wouldn't have.

But it's still nothing like the freedom he'd started experiencing before all of this happened.

And naturally, we've seen some regression.

Rehabilitation isn't something you complete and tick off a list.

This is something Zeus has reminded me of again & again.

Behaviour changes when circumstances change.

Before surgery, we were regularly exposing Zeus to the world in carefully controlled ways.

He was walking.

Exploring.

Seeing Dogs at appropriate distances.

Practising moving through triggers.

Learning to regulate himself in different environments.

Building confidence through repetition.

Then almost overnight, much of that stopped.

Not because we gave up on his training.

Because his physical health had to become the priority.

When a Dog spends weeks restricted by an injury, their world gets smaller.

Their outlets change.

Their routine changes.

Their physical exercise changes.

Their opportunities to practise behavioural skills change.

And for a Dog like Zeus, who had only recently begun learning many of those skills, it's completely understandable that some things have slipped backwards.

He's barking more at Dogs passing at our exposed front garden again.

His frustration is higher.

Some of the regulation we'd worked incredibly hard to build isn't as strong as it was.

And we haven't been able to progress some of the things we'd planned to work on because this isn't the right time to ask more of him.

That doesn't mean his rehabilitation has failed.

It means rehabilitation isn't linear.

Sometimes you move forward.

Sometimes circumstances force you backwards.

And sometimes the kindest thing you can do is hold the dog where they are until they're physically and emotionally ready to move forward again.

And I know how fortunate we are.

This experience has actually made me think about Dogs recovering in ordinary family homes.

Because I have resources around me that most people don't.

I have behavioural knowledge.

I work with Dogs every day.

I have access to carefully selected, socially appropriate Dogs.

I can bring one of Zeus's friends to him rather than asking Zeus to go out into the world.

I can recognise when he's reaching threshold.

I can adapt his environment.

And I have Georgia, who understands him incredibly well too.

And even with all of that, this has been bloody hard.

So what happens to the family who doesn't have those things?

What happens when someone adopts a rescue Dog with behavioural needs & suddenly faces surgery, eight weeks of restricted movement & thousands of dollars in veterinary treatment?

Who's helping them understand the behavioural regression?

Who's helping them manage frustration?

Who's helping them prevent the Dog from becoming overwhelmed?

Who's giving them a break?

That is another gap in this system that Zeus has made impossible for me to ignore.

Because keeping an animal alive is one thing.

Helping them continue to have a life worth living while they're recovering is another.

And right now, that's what we're trying to give Zeus.

His world may be smaller for the moment.

But we'll keep making that small world as safe, interesting, social and full of love as we possibly can.

And when his body is finally ready...

we'll start opening the big world back up to him again.

Slowly.

At Zeus's pace.

Just like we did the first time.