The Cat's Meow

For many years, I firmly believed that most dogs get along well with cats.  I actually once ventured the opinion, in a conversation with a friend, that most of the time, the cats were the ones with the problem, not the dogs.  Having owned both cats and dogs for many years, I knew that not all dogs get along with cats to the same extent, but I had never really had much of a difficulty with any of my dogs, except for an occasional growl and some excessive nipping (which my toy poodle, Charla, was guilty of).  I really thought that if dogs grow up with cats, they rarely have difficulties getting along with them.

This opinion changed when I got Prince.

As a puppy, Prince really didn't seem to be too excited by most of my cats, but one of my cats took an instant dislike to Prince the moment he saw him.  As soon as I put Prince down in front of him, Remy arched his back, hissed, and tried to scratch him.  Because I grabbed Prince before Remy touched him, I thought that Prince had barely noticed.

I was wrong.

For several months afterwards, I tried to keep Remy out of Prince's way, but one day he escaped into the part of the house where Prince was.  Prince instantly went after him, and I snatched up the cat to protect him, only to have him climb me like a tree.  After a lot of shouting and a great deal of pain, I managed to deescalate the situation, and decided the two of them would never meet again.  Unfortunately, Remy was less than cooperative in this regard.

Every night, when I took Prince into the bedroom, Remy would come to the bedroom door and howl.  Why he did this, knowing his arch enemy was in the room, I couldn't say, but he did it continually...for months.  Every night, usually around 4 am, I would awaken to the sound of his mournful meows, and see Prince lying in front of the door, eyeing the crack beneath it in an exasperated fashion.

I tried ignoring Remy...to no avail.  Spraying an aerosol can in the air also accomplished nothing after I did it the third time.  Night after night, I would lie in bed, grinding my teeth, as the wailing continued, until one night, befuddled by a lack of sleep, I decided to open the door a mere crack and scare Remy away by showing him Prince.

I had failed to take into account Prince's frustration about the situation.

Prince and Little Kitty

As soon as I opened the door, Prince bulldozed past me, causing the cat to jump at least 6 feet in the air and land on top of a dresser, from which he promptly dislodged everything on top of it.  He then jumped down and, after a spirited romp through the house, ran back into the bedroom and disappeared under the bed.

This meant, of course, that I had to confine Prince to another portion of the house while I spent 15 minutes coaxing the cat out from his hiding place.  The only positive thing was that for several weeks after that, Remy refrained from meowing at the bedroom door.

I don't know whether Remy was the catalyst or not, but Prince doesn't like most cats.  He kind of likes the first cat he met as a puppy, Little Kitty, and every day when she runs into his part of the house, he says hello to her, and sometimes even gives her a lick.  She's the only cat he'll tolerate now.  In fact,  she's the only cat he's ever tolerated...except for Cookie and  Cream.

Prince's Girlfriend: Blondes Are More Fun

No rendition of Prince's relations with his canine companions would be complete without mentioning his girlfriend.  It might also be appropriate to say, when talking about Prince's relationships with other dogs, I saved the best for last.

As a child, I was a devoted fan of the collies stories by Albert Payson Terhune.  I can't remember how many times I read Lad: A Dog.  I also was (and still am) a fan of Lassie, and with these collies as examples, I grew up to have an extremely high opinion of the character and intelligence of the collie. Therefore, when my other sister asked my advice about whether or not she should purchase one, my immediate answer was yes!

My sister's collie comes from Northwest Iowa, which her veterinarian told her is where they breed some of the best collies in the Midwest.  Her name is Tira, and she is everything I always thought a collie would be.

Tira only needs to be told not to do something once, and she never does it again (or almost never)!  She immediately heels when put on a leash, without ever having been taught. She learned how to sit, stay, stand, and lie down on the first try!  She is also amazingly calm, and an extraordinary watchdog...all at 1 year of age.

After reading about Lad and the other collies from The Place, and watching Lassie innumerable times, I told my father (as a child) that I thought collies were just as smart as German Shepherds (his favorite breed).  He pointed out the difference between all the things that German Shepherds can be trained to do, and the more limited things collies have traditionally been used for, as an example of German Shepherds being more intelligent.  After knowing Tira, though, I still think collies are just as smart.  They just have a different physiology and different personalities.

Fortunately for Prince, my sister let him meet Tira when she was a puppy, and he often goes over to play with her on the weekends now.  The first time he met her, and she jumped on him, he actually growled a little, but a short time later, I saw that familiar gleam in his eye, and the next thing I knew, he was running after her and pawing at her in a rather familiar manner.  Of course, he is almost twice as big as her, but she really doesn't seem to mind.  I think he's finally found the love of his life, and considering the fact that he's always preferred blondes, I'm not surprised it was her.

I just hope the relationship turns out to be a truly compatible one.

Scrappy

I actually knew Scrappy long before he came into Prince' life.  He belonged to a young couple who lived up the street who sometimes gave him a lot of attention...and sometimes did not.  Before that, he had belonged to somebody else...and I think this person might have mistreated him.

One day, Scrappy's owners moved away and left him, and I found him wandering down the sidewalk next to my house.  Not really wanting another dog, but unable to abandon him to whatever fate might await him on his own, I took him into the yard...and then into the house.  It was immediately apparent that he had major problems.

Scrappy bit.  Two situations seemed to provoke this behavior; first, bending over to pet him (he bit several well-meaning people in the face), and second, putting your feet anywhere near him.  Even tripping over him caused him to react with outrage, biting at your feet and ankles in a fury.  From these two things, I figured he was teased, and probably kicked.

Scrappy didn't like other small dogs, in spite of his being a Shih-Tzu, a breed known for their good nature.  He ate everything he found outside, probably because at one point, he had not been fed very well.  Trying to stop him also resulting in his attacking you.  He didn't like most people...whenever someone passed by the yard, he would growl and bite the fence bars in a fury.  What he did like was cats...and large dogs, probably because he had lived with large dogs at one time in his life.  I think he liked cats because he had never been exposed to them, and therefore hadn't had any bad experiences with them.

He also liked me.

When he first met Prince, Scrappy was somewhat standoffish, but I knew he liked him,too, because he didn't attack him.  One time, when Prince tried to take some food he had left, he nipped at Prince...but Prince's reaction made that a one time thing.  Thereafter, Scrappy would always politely move aside.

After a few weeks had passed, Scrappy began trying to play with Prince...usually by enthusiastically gnawing on Prince's legs.  At first, Prince reacted by leaping away, but then he figured out that Scrappy was actually trying to play with him, and would respond either by getting down to Scrappy's level (which was quite a feat for such a large dog) or hitting him with his head.  As they got to be better friends, Prince would gently mouth at him, and Scrappy would roll over onto his back and kick all four legs in the air, wildly.

Nowadays, whenever the two of them get together, the first thing Prince does is gently nuzzle (and sometimes lick) the top of Scrappy's head.  Scrappy responds by happily biting his legs (and occasionally barking at him) and Prince kneels down.  Whereas Isabel, my Chihuahua, still chases Prince and barks at him, Scrappy is almost always happy to see him.

I know Scrappy has been good for Prince (he finally has a friend!) and he actually is somewhat calmer around other dogs since Scrappy came into his life.  I don't know if Prince has really been good for Scrappy.  After 2 years, we can finally put our feet by him without his attacking them (my boyfriend even plays with him with them!) and he doesn't eat everything he finds outside anymore (just some of it), but I'm not sure if the credit belongs to us, or to Prince.  I suspect if it were because of us, he would like other people better than he does, and he still hates everyone who walks by (and yes, he still attacks the fence in his rage).

Prince and the Neighborhood Dogs

After recovering from my disappointment over Liesel's less than enthusiastic reaction to her brother, I decided Prince would have to be socialized via exposure to other dogs.  I therefore returned to the park where I had originally walked him as a pup, but this time I made sure he got plenty of exposure to the dogs that lived along the edge of it.

Of the five people who lived next to the park, four had dogs.  One was an older retriever mix who simply ignored Prince whenever he barked at her.  Next door to her was a female German Shepherd, mostly tan, whom I nicknamed "Blondie."  She would bark at Prince furiously whenever we passed by (although not nearly as excitedly as Prince barked at other dogs).  Sometimes Prince would bark back at her, but mostly he just stared at her in fascination.  I figured he had a crush on her.

At the next house was a small white fuzzy dog that actually got along with Prince famously.  While "Blondie" shrank away if Prince got too close to her yard, "Little White Dog" would come right up to the fence, sniff and lick him, and even wag his tail at me.  I was so taken by him, I thought of going to his owners and asking if I could take him home with me.

At the top of the hill, there were several small dogs...and one very large Old English Sheepdog.  As soon as it saw us coming, it would begin tearing up and down the fence line, and as we got closer to it, would begin to bark furiously.  This was the dog that excited Prince the most.  As soon as we saw it, he would begin dashing up the hill, barking back at it, dragging me behind him.  The only positive thing about it was that I was able to get up the hill much more easily than I would have otherwise.

In spite of his excitement, Prince actually was somewhat familiar with these dogs, and eventually calmed down...somewhat...when he saw them.  The dogs we encountered in the park were a completely different matter, probably because he had never seen them before and they took him by surprise.  As soon as he saw them, he would begin barking hysterically, and then would try to take off across the road in an attempt to meet them (to their owners' dismay).

Our most memorable encounter was with a very large and handsome Great Dane whose owner happened to come walking the opposite way toward us one Sunday morning.  As soon as she saw us, she stopped uncertainly and called out to me.

"He doesn't do well with other dogs!" she said.  "Maybe I should just turn around and go back."

"It's all right," I said (foolishly).  "I've got him.  Let's try to pass each other quickly."

 She began walking toward us at a brisk pace, her Great Dane glowering at Prince.  In response, Prince began barking loudly and straining toward him, pulling so hard that I had to grab onto a sapling to keep from being pulled across the road.  Meanwhile, the Great Dane passed by us in an almost condescending manner.

"Don't feel bad!" she called, when they were safely out of range.  "It's just the puppy in him!"

It was a comment I was to hear over and over again.  Meanwhile, poor Prince was still without a friend...but that was about to change.

Prince's Sister - Part 2

When Liesel was approximately 4 years old, and Prince was 5, my sister and I decided to give their introduction one more try.  By this time, Prince had turned into a gentlemanly sort of fellow (for the most part) and rarely reacted strongly to dogs anymore, especially if they were in their own yards or homes.  Therefore, I walked him over on a lovely summer day, and after fussing over him at the front door, my sister let him inside.

The first thing that happened was that her Schnoodle, Samara, greeted him in a more than enthusiastic manner, even jumping up on him and chewing on his face.  Prince responded to all of this graciously, wagging his tail and gently sniffling her back.  Then I walked him over to the kitchen, where Liesel was.

The fact that we had made a mistake of epic proportions was immediately apparent.  Liesel flew toward him barking at the top of her lungs, slid away, then returned, barking and snarling as if she intended to attack him.  Prince merely stood in the hallway, watching her except when she got close to him.  At those moments, he politely looked away or paid attention to Samara.  None of this helped to calm her down, unfortunately.  The longer we stayed, the angrier she became, until the only one who didn't feel uncomfortable was Prince himself.

After agreeing that it wasn't working out as we had hoped, my sister said a long and loving goodbye to Prince, and we left.  Unfortunately, Liesel was convinced he was still hiding in the house somewhere and continued to bark...and bark...and bark...for hours on end.  Every time she heard a noise, she erupted into a fit of barking...for the next 3 DAYS.

"Why is she barking?" I asked my sister each time I talked to her on the phone, hearing Liesel in the background.

"Because she thinks he's still here!" my sister said, angrily, and went to correct Liesel for what seemed like the hundredth time.

I wish I could say that Liesel calmed down completely after the 3 days were done, but she never did.  For months thereafter, a noise at the front door was enough to convince her that Prince had returned, and she would erupt into a fresh spate of barking that would last for hours.  My sister said we were never going to try it again...and I had to agree.

Oddly enough, my sister now lives next door to a couple with two German Shepherds, one of which is a male who is almost the same size as Prince.  Liesel doesn't seem fazed by him in the least.  I guess it's just Prince who brings out the best in her.

Prince's Sister - Part 1

Shortly after I had realized I was going to have to socialize Prince on my own, I discovered that the same lady who had bred him had a new litter of German Shepherd puppies for sale.  At exactly the same time, my sister told me she had decided to get a large dog, and I figured the stars had aligned in Prince's favor.  After all, who could be a better friend for Prince than his own sister or brother?

After convincing my sister that a sibling of Prince was exactly what she wanted, I contacted the breeder and explained the situation to her.

She told me that she had several males and females left...and one very special puppy that she was not sure she wanted to sell.  Her name was Sweet Pea, and she was the runt of the litter.  When she was born, she had been only half the size of her siblings, and they had taken her away from her mother and bottle fed her to keep her alive.

"I don't know if she'll ever be as big as her brothers and sisters, or even as big as a standard German Shepherd," she said.  "She's still only half as big as they are."

Then she added how hard it was for Sweet Pea to be with her brothers and sisters, because they all bullied her so badly.  "She's like a toy compared to them," she said.

"If you would like to sell her," I said, "she'd be perfect for my sister.  She'd rather have a German Shepherd that's not as big as Prince."

Thankfully, she agreed to sell her to us.

When my sister brought Sweet Pea home, she was so small, she looked like a fox kit.  My sister named her Liesel.  Beyond excited at the thought of Prince having a friend, I brought him over a week later...only to have Liesel run screaming from him in my mother's yard and hide under a bench.

"Well, what did you expect?" my sister asked, irritably.  "How would you feel if you saw a giant come walking down the street toward you?"

Poor Prince tried every way he could think of to win Liesel over (by ignoring her, trying to nuzzle her, even barking at her) but she refused to have anything to do with him.  Eventually I simply gave up, and only brought Prince over to see her one more time, years later, at my sister's house.

It was an experience neither my sister or I would ever forget.

Prince Goes To Obedience School - Part 2

The first thing that the instructor did was to select a well-mannered Golden Retriever out of the pupils in the class to do a demonstration with.  This was supposed to consist of his having the dog follow him, stop, sit and accept the snack, while he explained to us exactly what he was doing.  Unfortunately, nobody could hear a word that he was saying because Prince was barking excitedly the entire time.  The only time he stopped was when he tried to take off to meet a Labrador puppy in its owner's arms, dragging me and my chair behind him as if he were a sled dog pulling a sleigh.

"Now, now," the instructor finally said, and interrupted his lesson to come over and pet Prince, in an obvious effort to appease him.  This only resulted in more hysterical barking when the instructor walked away.

"Everybody, try to do the same thing with your dogs," the female instructor ordered, with a faintly miffed look in our direction.  As we started forward, the helpers gave each of us several dog cookies, which most of the dogs snatched up with gusto.  Prince spit his out and took off after the Gordon Setters again.

"Let's try something different," the lucky helper assigned to me said, and handed me some canned meat.  I gave Prince his instructions and tried to give him a small portion of the meat, whereupon he rushed through the exercise one time, snatched the rest of the meat out of my hand and took off after the spaniel on our other side.

"Please don't allow your dog to socialize with other dogs unless the owner gives his approval," the male instructor said.  With a heroic effort, I managed to haul Prince away.

The rest of the night continued in an agonizingly similar manner, with the movement of each dog (and the instructor) causing Prince to burst out in a fresh spate of barking.  I felt like the parent of the worst performing student in the class.  And German Shepherds are supposed to be one of the smartest breeds, I thought.

"Prince really needs more socialization," the male instructor told me, as kindly as possible,when the class finally ended.  "He's a really nice guy, but he needs to be around other dogs more."

I had to agree...and thus I decided that Prince was going to have be socialized more in a wholly different way, outside of the traditional classroom.

I just had to figure out how.