I am stuck in an animal groove this week. I had so much fun (and drifted so far astray!) with the last one I thought I would do the other angle on the same thing. I will tell you about James, one of my best friends and someone who worked for me. I know. Not a good idea, but we were the same age, our wives were great friends...and we liked each other. To the best of my knowledge, our friendship never got in the way of work.
Anyway, the story is about Flo (FloraDora von Haus Schutting), a beautiful female shepherd that was out of the same kennel as Golf. She was such a beautiful puppy, a little darker in her markings than Golf and a little smaller when full grown. But Flo was the most obedient dog you ever saw. That said, I will now tell you how she got that way and what it cost to have her so obedient.
James was so in love with Golf that as soon as he could afford it, we went shopping for a good dog. He wanted one from the same lines as Golf. We found Flo with the help of the kennel meister that sold me Golf. James knew about the bennies that went with the papers from the Verein fur die Deutsche Schaferhund (Germany has several kennel clubs, each breed has its own. The Club for the German Shepherd Dog issued papers, varying colors depending on the quality of the dog and its training. Red was top dog papers, white was puppy papers). The most important bennie was access to the professional trainers and workplaces where the dogs are trained. James wanted to get started right away. The Pro told him she was way too young. Leash training and basic obedience between three and four months...more involved training later. Attack training was not even started until the dogs were close to a year old. James was impatient. He pulled out his Kansas farm hand stubborness and started training Flo on his own.
He wanted me to help train her. After the first session, I told him I could not have a hand in his methods. His answer to any minor disobedience on the dogs part earned the dog a beating. I was really disappointed in James, he insisted he had trained hunting dogs, farm dogs and all kinds of dogs this way and after a little roughness at first, they learned not to make mistakes. I had my doubts, not only about his training techniques but also about the future of our relationship. It was hard for me to reconcile this side of James to the rest of him...a warm, loyal, husband, and friend. Deeply committed to family and without measure, the best soldier and driver in my platoon. He assured me it was just until she learned who was in charge and what if felt like to challenge that.
As Flo grew and matured, she was exactly what James said she would be. Eagerly obedient totally fearful if she made a mistake. After she was fully grown, I never saw him hit her. But there was something else I noticed. Flo was not a happy dog. How can you define that. I can only say that she was never playful, never tried to take part in family activites, I never saw her chase a ball, nothing but an uninterupted focus on James and his every move.
A few years after James left the Army, he and his family came down to Texas to visit us. We had a great time together. We went down to the spillway in Lampasas and went skinnydipping and playing in the water. At one point, James sicced Flo on me. I was about twenty yards behind the spillway, staying afloat in the deepest part of the pool, maybe ten or twelve feet deep. I had made a comment that Flo knew me better than anyone else and wouldn't attack me. She was on the shore and when he aimed a finger at me and told her to get me, she dove and came at me with no hesitation at all. I timed he dog paddle pretty well and when she was within range, I grabbed her lead paw and pulled her under water. That would be enough to slow down the most determined dog, I thought. She came up sputtering and sneezing and coming on with evil intent...the inital attack was just business...cause boss said to. Now it was personal. I dunked her a couple more times but was beginning to get a little concerned, she just wouldn't quit. I told James, who was laughing on the spillway, to call her out before I had to drown her. He did and she immediately turned off the crazy and even allowed me to pet her up a little.
I loved Flo. She was a beautiful Shepherd and she like me more than any one else outside her immediate family. I don't mean she was a wicked evil dog. She had a sweet nature. And there is no debate that she was obedient. But there was an emptiness in Flo that was hard to explain. When we worked the dogs together, Golf always watched me with eager eyes, barely able to contain himself. When at "Heel", he would be looking up at me for the next move, he was so anxious to please. He had a great smile and a big old head he kept butting me with. Flo always watched James, too. But her demeanor was totally different. She had anxiety instead of anxiousness. She watched in mortal fear of doing something wrong or missing a cue or just any infraction. And YES, they are that smart.
I have seen some of the MWDs and Police dogs on TV and at work places and they are amazing in what they can do. I don't know what kind of relationship they have with their handlers out of the public eye. I don't know much about their training techniques. I know Darrell, a former Air Force dog handler and I have a buddy on the Teller County Sheriff's force who is a police dog handler. I ask them about the job at times and they have funny tales and such. But I don't know how they train.
On the other hand. I am very familiar with the way the Germans train Schutzhunds and what the dogs have to learn to move up the chain. They "gentle" the dogs into obedience and they are patient. They use the same methods a mommy dog would use to discipline a wayward dog...like I said before, grabbing the dog by the scruff of the neck and shaking vigorously will reduce the dog to a quivering, repentant soul ready to redeem himself. And the result is a dog that becomes a member of the family, a thinking, reasoning, protector who on one hand can be gentle with children and on the other hand rip the arms off of an intruder.
What is the point? I don't know. Sometimes I think the point is not the dogs, but the owners. James was my best friend when I discovered his attitude about training animals. I think if I had known that about him first, I would never have had anything to do with him. And sometimes I feel kind of sad that I didn't have the courage at the time to be more assertive on the issue (his behaviour was borderline chargeable under the UCMJ). And writing this now feels kind of disloyal to our friendship, even though I haven't talked to James in over thirty years. Any way...I believe kindness builds better dogs.