We have had German Shepherds, each with a unique personality. The first was Hercules, an “alpha”, named after the C-130 Hercules aircraft, foundation of Rick’s business. When I took Herk for a walk, people moved to the other side of the street. He didn’t bark or growl, but he walked like he owned the sidewalk, and he did! The second was Shabah (“Ghost” in Arabic, named after a bodyguard Rick met in Jordan who had a GS by the same name). Shabah was beautiful, perfect confirmation, went into the GS stance naturally. When I took him to the vet, he hid under a chair. A family of quail crossing the street had my legs wrapped in Shabah’s leash. And he suffered from car sickness. Every ride had him drooling and urping in the back seat. Poor guy. The third GS was Sarge. He was the easiest to train, loved people, loved other animals, but also took guarding the family seriously.
And now we have our fourth, Ranger, our ADHD dog. Energy on steroids. Maybe it came from being the only male in a large litter of female puppies. I was told neutering him would calm him down. Nope. I thought training would help. Sigh. On the way to a play day at K-9 Activity, he’s so excited, he paces the back seat (with his bungie cord strap to keep him from climbing into the front seat and taking over the steering wheel). He leaps from the car. “Oh, boy, oh, boy. I get a day with my buddies! Woof Woof.” A staff member puts a leash on him, and he looks back. “Mom! You’re leaving?!” When I return to pick him up, he launches himself at me – all 95 pounds of him. “You came back! I love you! I love you! I thought you abandoned me!”
I was told Ranger would calm down by year three. Nope. He has zoomies, which means he runs full out through our house, leaps on our bed, bounces in circles, leaps off and races back to the living room. Four or five times. Always grinning from ear to ear, eyes bright, black fur flying (he’s a long-haired GS). Fur is everywhere!
I hired a trainer to train me in how to train Ranger. I am applying the lessons I’ve learned. Give simple commands. Reward good behavior. Be consistent. Be patient. Practice-practice-practice. Sounds biblical.
Ranger is improving, though there are times when I give a command and he just looks at me. “Are you serious?” I repeat the command. He walks slowly to his “place”, flops down and gives an audible sigh of wretchedness. Then he stares at me with mournful puppy-dog eyes. You know the kind that make your heart melt. And I can hear him thinking, “She’s weakening. I’ll just rest my chin on my paws and she’ll release me. Another minute and I’ll be FREE!”
It occurred to me that I would have benefited greatly if I’d taken Dog Training 101 before having children. By the grace of God, our three turned out just fine, despite having a mother who weaken at the sight of puppy dog eyes. Our son used to practice in the mirror.