Paw Prints on the Wall

Chapter 3: Bob Barker

One of my dogs is named Bob Barker. I did not name him because of his penchant for playing The Price Is Right or because he’s an animal rights advocate. I named him Bob Barker because he likes to bark…a lot. When I saw him at the adoption booth, he barked at everyone that approached him as if to say, “Hi! Do you want to take me home? I’m really cool!” That’s when I made my first mistake. I named him Bob Barker. One should never name an animal unless one has already decided to adopt them. In hindsight, it was definitely not a mistake to adopt Bob. He’s taught me everything a dog trainer needs to know about managing excessive barking and, he was right. He is really cool!
Bob is a shamelessly opportunistic lounge hound, a master of serious relaxation. Unless there’s barking to be done, you can find Bob asleep in the master bedroom dreaming of room service and a dog’s undeniable right to breakfast in bed.
Bob’s goal in life, secondary only to barking, is to be comfortable. In the summertime, I don’t need a weatherman to tell me the temperature. I can tell it’s hot because Bob is lying on his side on the kitchen floor in front of the fan.
Bob understands the concept of cooling off with a fan. I often say that I’m his biggest fan, but he still wants to lay directly in front of the deluxe model, 3-speed, 20” box fan. During the heat of summer, enabling Bob’s quest for comfort, I’ve been known to place a bowl of ice in front of the deluxe model box fan. This is when I discovered how much Bob values his possessions. His most treasured belongings are his disemboweled teddy bear and his partially skinned tennis balls. On a blazing July day last year, I discovered Bob lying next to the bowl of ice in front of the deluxe model box fan. On further inspection, I noticed that Mr. Barker had placed his tennis balls in the bowl of ice. I could only construe that this was an effort to cool off his balls.
Some dogs are obsessed with toys. My dog, Jude likes toys only if someone else is interested in a rousing game of tug. MoJo, my Border Collie mix invents his own toys and favors playing with them in secret. He would have us believe that he’s too cool for toys. Bob, on the other hand, thinks that dog toys were invented solely for his enjoyment and destruction.
Bob has laid waste to legions of squeaky toys. Because he can perform a surgically precise squeakerectomy in 8.7 seconds, he has a large collection of deflated, eviscerated items formerly known as plush toys. I have deemed playthings for Bob a futile waste of coin.
Nevertheless, Bob is creative in communicating his desperation to feed his squeaky toy addiction. At the same time, he seems to understand the meaning of holiday gift giving. Because the economy was tanking during Christmas 2008 there was a scarcity of presents under our tree. Sure that my dogs were unable to make the distinction between the holiday and any other day of the year, I decided to forgo the usual gift-wrapped dog toys. Alas, I was shamed by my selfish thoughts when I discovered a shabby, filthy squeakerless plush ball placed carefully and conspicuously under the tree. This could only be read as Bob’s way of saying his supply of fresh toys was depleted. Guilt-ridden, I immediately went to the nearest squeaky supply outlet and bought the appropriate replacements.
Living with the “Family Fun-Pack” is never the least bit uninteresting.

Dog Training

Chapter 2: Jude

My German Shepherd is an overly dramatic dog. In other words, he whines a lot. He got the name Jude because we always have to take his sad song and make it better. Jude is not the most athletic dog I’ve known. He lived with me for five years before he realized that he could jump. Every night at bedtime, he would enter the bedroom ahead of me, and then put his front paws up on the bed. Leaning on his elbows, he always looked as if he was praying, so I taught him to put his head down on his paws on the cue, “Say your prayers.” Suddenly one night, he surprised me (and himself) by taking one nimble leap and sticking a perfect landing in the center of my bed. He remained there for the next 6 months.

I have to say that I miss “saying our prayers” every night. It has occurred to me that perhaps, for the previous 5 years, Jude was praying that he could sleep on the bed. Evidently, his prayers were answered the night he discovered his ability to jump.
In my humble and jaded opinion, Jude is a drop-dead traffic-stopping handsome specimen of a German Shepherd. Walks with him are more like a fashion show runway experience. One day during an outing in the company of Jude, a man slowed down his vehicle and shouted to us, “Magnificent!” I replied, “Thanks! And my dog ain’t bad either!”

Jude is also the exemplary watchdog. He is eternally positioned at a self-appointed post in the yard, the one with an uninterrupted view of the alley. This is where he puts the neighborhood on notice by barking, “German Shepherd On Duty! German Shepherd On Duty!” Granted, we don’t live in the most crime free neighborhood, but it seemed to me, Jude’s sentinel behavior was in excess. With each alert barking overindulgence, I’d call Jude into the house for a break.
Once, in a brief moment of clarity, I wondered if Jude’s increasing “sentry barking” had become a signal to me that he wanted to be let in. He demonstrated that very fact one day while I was mopping floors and denied his request to come in. After this rejection, I watched that dog run to his post, do the sentry bark, and then return immediately to the back door.

Because I’m a dog trainer, a courteous citizen and due to the fact that my neighbors know I’m a dog trainer, I began to formulate a plan to decrease Jude’s annoying barking. I decided he needed a better way to tell me he wanted to come into the house. My “Aha!” moment arrived when I thought about all the dogs I’ve taught to ring a bell to signal that they want to go outside. Why not teach Jude to ring a bell to let me know when he wants in? I then proceeded to raid my Christmas decoration storage boxes and located a sleigh bell that would do the trick. I hung the bell on the back door and taught Jude how to ring it with his nose (his long German Shepherd nose fit the bill nicely). Now, instead of the loud, irritating barking when Jude wants in, the neighbors and I are hearing jingle bells.

Even though, we’ve found a more tolerable signal for Jude to alert me that he wants in, he’s still prone to dramatics. He’s been known to knock the bell right off of the doorknob when he’s convinced that I’ve left the country, forgetting him in the back yard.

Dog Training