It's All About Attitude: Travis to the Rescue

For anyone who has ever owned a Miniature Schnauzer, the saying "it's all about attitude" should be a familiar one.

There is no dog in the world like a Miniature Schnauzer (and I say this with nothing but admiration). The first Schnauzer I ever knew as a child, named Heidi, was only 15 pounds, but I was terrified of her.  Maybe it was the beard, or maybe it was the eyebrows, but she had me sufficiently cowed that I would never have tried to pet her in a million years.  This was the reason that many years later, when my sister and I were sharing a house, we decided to get a Miniature Schnauzer (to help me get over my fear of them).

His name was Travis, and he is legend.

Travis, aka Mr. T (photo by PS)

I had never known such ferocity could exist in such a small package.  When Travis was a puppy, he gave new meaning to the phrase "sharp toothed" (especially when it came to my poor sister).  He made Pasja look gentle when it came to the teething stage.  Travis was the king of the household, ruling with absolute power over my toy poodle Charla, our Shih-Tzu Nikki, and each and all of our cats.  At times, he was ferocious enough that I became angry at him (especially when he assaulted Nikki) but he made up for all of these times by his actions one wintery night.

A neighbor had told us that two German Shepherd mixes were attacking small dogs in the area, one of which was her rat terrier.  It had to be hospitalized for an extensive period of time because it had been mauled so badly.  Since I never walked Charla and Nikki (they were too small!) and they were in a fenced yard, I didn't worry about it too much...until late one night when I let them out before bed.

At the time, the two of them were alone in the west half of the yard, while Travis was sniffing for something on the east side.  Suddenly the two delinquent dogs appeared and charged my fence, obviously aiming to jump over it and attack my two little ones.  I began shouting and running toward them, but I never had a chance to do anything to protect them, because Travis got there first.

He shot across the yard like he had been fired out of a cannon, every hair on his body standing on end.  As the two dogs gaped at him, he began bouncing up and down like a giant windup toy, growling, barking and practically screaming in his rage that they would threaten his friends.  For a moment, the two of them snarled at him angrily.

Then they slowly turned and slunk away.

Moments later, I snatched up my two tiny dogs and told Travis to come inside, still afraid the two of them would return...but Travis simply ignored me.  He knew he had scared them off for good.  I never saw either one of them again.

As for Travis, he continued to show the same unflagging courage for the rest of the 10 years that my sister had him.  Schnauzers mean business...and every animal he met was smart enough to recognize it.

It's All About Attitude: Pasja and the Boxer

I've heard it said many times that dogs don't really pay attention to the size of other dogs.  My own personal experience is that they really do notice when a dog is very large (like Prince) but not necessarily as much when a dog is small, especially if the small dog has an attitude.

A perfect example of this would be Pasja.

Pasja (left) and his friend Hector

Pasja liked almost all other dogs (and they all liked him) but if any dog tried to be too assertive with him, Pasja immediately evinced a "big dog" attitude.  This was especially apparent one day when I was walking him through the woods by our home, when I was a teenager.

The people who lived by the woods (who possibly owned part of them) had two dogs, a Boxer and a German Shepherd.  The German Shepherd was pretty laid back, but the Boxer would aggressively pursue anyone he saw passing through the woods when his owners were not present.  On the day I happened to be walking Pasja through the woods, this exact set of circumstances occurred.

Being young and foolish, as soon as he began to chase us, I ran.  Pasja seemed reluctant to follow me, but did because he was on the leash (even though he fretted the entire time).  Unfortunately, this only aggravated the Boxer even more, and I could hear him gaining on us, with low growls and excited panting noises, until he was almost immediately behind us.  At this point, unsure of what to do but out of breath, I stopped...and he came charging toward us.

That was when Pasja took over.

Pasja was still fairly young at the time, and I had never yet seen him get really angry with anyone or anything.  He began to bark and then to growl so menacingly that the Boxer actually stopped and stared at him with what I can only describe as astonishment.  The angrier Pasja became, the more uncertain the Boxer grew, until he eventually began to back away and finally turned for home, wearing an almost sheepish expression, even as he continued to growl under his breath.  Pasja continued to bark and snarl at him until he was a good ways off, at which point we resumed our walk in peace and quiet.

I never worried again when I was walking Pasja about any kind of threat, whether it was four-legged or two-legged.  In spite of his being less than 50 pounds, Pasja was absolutely certain that he could deal with anything or anyone...and his certainty made it true.  He protected me in many instances throughout the time I had him, provoking a great many reactions, but always inspiring a healthy respect.

Bedtime Snacks

Many, many years ago, when my toy poodle was just a wee little thing, the groomer who I normally took her to told me that little dogs require more than one meal a day...preferably one in the morning, and one sometime later during the day, to keep their blood sugars from dropping.  Somehow, this evolved into an excuse for me to feed my dogs 2 meals a day, which gradually got further and further apart.  Eventually I made the exciting discovery that dogs, like people, sleep better on a full stomach, and thus the tradition of bedtime snacks was born.

It is a tradition that I have since come to regret.

My initial concoctions were of the simple variety...perhaps a bone or some other kind of dog snack. They then graduated to more elaborate plates of snacks, and then to full-fledged meals.  Why? Because my dogs insisted upon it.

Bedtime for Prince (photo by SCB)

I have to give Prince credit for at least being polite about it.  When I approach him at night, he initially stares at me in an expectant manner, at least giving me the chance to produce the snack without his demanding it.  If this approach fails to work, he will begin to shadow me, and finally sniff at my pockets in an expectant manner, staring at me intensely the entire time.  Failing to produce a snack will result in his failing to do whatever I want him to do, until the snack is produced.  Since I would rather cajole than command, whenever possible, his approach usually works.

Isabel is not nearly as polite about it.

Bedtime for Isabel (photo by SCB)

She, too, will stare at me as bedtime approaches, but in a far more expectant manner, as if she cannot imagine that I would not grant her wishes.  If the snack does not meet her approval, she will either snort loudly or refuse to bestow upon me her treasured good night kiss.  She also has another, more ominous method of getting exactly what she wants (sometimes used even after receiving a satisfactory snack).  This technique can only be described as hounding.

For the rest of the night, whenever I get up, for whatever reason, she will get up, too.  After I have finished whatever errand prompted me to arise, I will return to find her sitting in the middle of the dining room floor, refusing to go back to bed unless another suitable snack is provided for her.  She will do this as many times as she desires, and yes, I admit, I always give in.

Unfortunately, I have created a monster.  Now, after receiving her first or second snack, she actually has to be locked into the bedroom at night to prevent her from insisting upon a never ending supply of bedtime snacks.

Bedtime for Scrappy (photo by SCB)

Oddly enough, the real beneficiary of both Prince and Isabel's behavior is Scrappy.  He never asks for anything, and for some odd reason, always seems to end up with the most of everything.  Persistence does pay, but patience really is the best technique of them all.

Prince and the Wily Woodchucks

                                           The Wily Woodchuck (Filmed by SCB)

Of all the wild animals that (welcome and not) come to visit Prince's yard, the wiliest one is definitely the woodchuck.

I never knew much about woodchucks until I began to encounter them.  Then I discovered that woodchucks not only have a huge appetite for any fruits and vegetables you may try to grow in your yard, they also have an unfortunate habit of burrowing dens near the foundations of homes.  When we first encountered this problem , I was hopeful that Prince's presence would deter them.

Unfortunately, it has not.

While Prince has caught many other wild animals prowling through our backyard, he has never caught a woodchuck.  They always seem to know when he is about to come outside, and stay just far enough away that they can easily elude even a mad dash gallop toward them.  Failing this, they will actually climb trees (especially when they are young).  Prince has never managed to come closer than 10 feet to one.  As for the rest of my dogs (and any humans who happen to be here), they show us no respect whatsoever.  Even a full throated yell will only cause them to give you a toothy glare in return.

Realizing Prince wasn't the answer to our dream of eliminating woodchucks from our yard, we decided to trap and relocate them, but unfortunately there has been on major deterrent.   The woodchucks are simply too smart!  Just how smart are they? Look at the above video.

Yes, Woodchucks really do climb trees!  (photo by SCB)

I am still trying to figure out a way to get rid of them, but unfortunately, this is the one thing I don't think Prince will be able to help me with.  The woodchucks are simply too smart for him...and for me!

Isabel's Toys

When Isabel, our Chihuahua, first came to live with us, I noticed that she had a tendency to hoard things...especially toys and food.  Whereas initially she would put them in fairly easy to access spaces, she eventually changed her preferred spot to various areas on the living room sofa.  Toys that she was especially fond of were laid out in various locations on the cushions, while food was placed beneath them, ostensibly to hide it from anyone else who might be interested.  While this worked well for her at first (because my toy poodle and Shih-Tzu were both too small to get onto the sofa), the suitability of this hiding place became less so when Prince grew up.

Isabel On Guard (photo by SCB)

Isabel has always had difficulty sharing (whether it be affection, toys or food), but she has an especially difficult time sharing with Prince.  No matter how well she hides food, he can find it...and he shows no respect for her when she tries to stop him from taking it, either.  In spite of her growling, snapping, barking and yes, occasionally biting, he will simply nudge her out of the way and persist in taking it from her. She is always incensed by this, but oddly enough, she becomes even more angry when he steals her toys.

Isabel has a special relationship with her toys.  Every day, she picks out a new favorite one, and will play mostly with it all the during the day and even take it to bed with her at night.  She is especially fond of red toys (which I believe is her favorite color).

Prince on the Prowl for Toys (photo by SCB)

Prince sees toys as something to be shredded apart and abandoned.  The only toys he seems fond of are his football and his soccer balls, and he also enjoys destroying these (by puncturing them).  This means we have to throw deflated balls for him in the yard whenever we want his attention.

Having once been a small child myself, I understand Isabel's point of view, and always try to rescue her toys whenever Prince evinces interest in them.  I have been too late on a couple of a occasions, but many times, I have stopped him from chewing it and taken it out of his mouth, only to find she has completely lost interest in it when I return it to her.

Understandably puzzled by this, I asked her favorite person in the world (my boyfriend) why she didn't want them anymore.  Both he and Isabel stared at me as if the answer should be obvious.

"Well?" I prodded, since it was not.

"He drooled on them," he said, even as Isabel turned her back on me in a haughty manner.

Unfortunately, it appears he was right, because even after I washed them, Isabel continued to snub these unfortunate toys.  My solution was to relinquish them to Scrappy (our Shih-Tzu) who doesn't seem to mind, and to buy her new ones.

Oddly enough, this now seems to have become a sort of pattern.  I almost wonder if Prince just likes tormenting her...or if she does it on purpose in order to get new toys!

I guess only the two of them (and maybe her favorite person) know the answer.

Joy

Joy (photo by TLS)

I met Joy for the first time when I visited my veterinarian's office for a no longer remembered reason.  She was in a cage with a black and white Papillion, and when I asked about her, they told me she had been rescued from a puppy mill.  Joy had been used for breeding, and after she had delivered several stillborn puppies, the breeder decided she was no longer a good investment and wanted to put her down.  Joy was rescued by one of the staff who worked in dog rescue.  At the time, Joy was only 3 years old.

Several days later, my sister Tina went to the clinic to pick up a product and fell in love with her.  She promptly adopted Joy, in spite of her many problems:  Joy was not housebroken, she hated men, she was terrified of thunderstorms and she had what I can only describe as withdrawal syndrome.  Joy would periodically crawl into a closet and hide for hours, not wanting to be disturbed.

The first time I took Prince over to my sister's house after she had gotten Joy, we thought it would be best to keep them apart, due to Joy's various issues.  Joy, however, had different plans.  When she heard Prince out in HER backyard, she began barking so loudly at the bedroom window that he jumped up on it to see her. My sister subsequently brought her outside (with a great deal of trepidation) and introduced her to Prince, to whose leash I was still holding.  To my surprise, Prince's reaction was that of a complete gentleman.

First, he gently sniffed her.  Then, when she growled a little, he backed away until she calmed down, and then returned to greet her again, his tail gently waving.  As she calmed down, he grew more friendly, yet never pushy...retaining a discrete and slightly aloof manner until she jumped up on HIM to lick his face.

Prince and Joy are friends now, and I have to admit, he is not nearly as polite as he used to be.  The other day he even put one of his giant paws on her back!  Fortunately, Joy didn't seem to mind in the least, and simply ran away from him.  She's come a long way from the frightened little dog who my sister brought home.  She still doesn't like thunderstorms, and once in a while she still hides in the closet, but she actually likes men now!  I think Prince is still her favorite male, though.

Prince and the Baby Raccoon

Prince dislikes a lot of things...cats, opossums and thunderstorms being a few of the more noteworthy ones. Another of his least favorite things is raccoons.

Perhaps he dislikes them for purely physical reasons, but I tend to think that it's because of their attitudes. Of all of the animals that my dogs have encountered, the most brazen ones are raccoons, who almost never run from anything.  I've heard from neighbors about them attacking their dogs, and I have actually had them get into fights with my dogs, although fortunately neither the dog nor the raccoon were seriously injured. Perhaps the most badly behaved of them all, though, was the mother raccoon that came into my yard several summers ago.

For some unfathomable reason, she brought her tiny kits with her... and they were actually as small as an 8-week old kitten.  Not knowing that they were around, I happened to let my Chihuahua Isabel out, who promptly began to bark at them.  I suspect she just wanted to sniff and maybe even lick them, but the mother was having none of it.  Even though I was standing there, she rushed the fence and hit it, snarling at Isabel so loudly that she ran away.

Unfortunately for the mother raccoon, Prince was in the back porch and promptly came thundering outside to see what the commotion was about.  When the mother raccoon saw him, her maternal instinct was instantly superseded by terror.  She fled from the yard with her children in tow, leaving one poor little kit behind in her haste.  At the moment I saw him, he was clinging to a twig with one paw, on a bush that only came up to my knee.  Prince saw him the same instant that I did, and went rushing toward him, barking furiously.

"Prince!" I shouted, "No!  Leave the baby alone!"

It was the same thing I always said to him when he teased Isabel too much, or one of the cats (back when he still liked them).  I had little hope of its having any impact on him, but he suddenly stopped, sniffed at the baby and ran back to where the mother had been, ignoring the kit as it fell onto the ground with a plop and then hurried after its mother and siblings.

I like to think that Prince knew it was a baby, and that's why he didn't try to hurt it, but it's just possible that he may have finally listened to something I told him at exactly the right time.  Either way, I consider it to be a win/win situation.