German Shepherds and Children Part 2 - Prince William of Orange

After my father returned from Vietnam in 1970, we went to live in Maryland, and my parents decided it was time for another dog.  My father initially brought home a toy fox terrier, Odin, but Odin was terrified of children, and attacked my father every time he got into bed at night.  Eventually it was decided that Odin should be given to an elderly lady, and my father told me I could pick out our next dog.

Several weeks later, he took me to meet a lady who seemed to have 20 dogs running around.  I still remember them racing toward me when we walked in, most of them Odin's size...except for two long-haired German Shepherd puppies that looked like little woolly bears.

"Which one would you like?" my father asked me, gesturing at all of the dogs milling around.

One of the long-haired German Shepherd puppies was already standing beside me, licking my hand.  "Him," I said.

I could tell my father was pleased, even though he pretended to be surprised.  "Him? Really?"

I nodded, and put my arm around him.  I still remember how he stayed by me, even as my father went off to talk to his owner, and how he walked beside me when I followed.

That was how Prince William of Orange (named for the Dutch Royal Family) came to stay with us.

Prince William of Orange (right) and his cousin

Prince William grew up to be a gentle giant.  My father took numerous pictures of me, at 5 years of age, with him, and in almost all of them, I have him around the neck in a death grip.  Prince William's only response to such overly friendly tactics was to lick my face.  He liked everybody...except the trash collector.  This unfortunate man was so frightened of him, he would try to sneak up and collect the trash every Monday, and Prince William took it as a personal insult.  He would lie on the front porch, pretending to be asleep, until the man reached the trash cans...and then fly off the steps toward him with a volley of thunderous barks.  My mother says he liked to bark at butterflies, too, but I don't remember this.  What I do remember is how safe he made me feel.

I even thought he could protect me from the things I saw in my nightmares.

Unfortunately, we didn't get to keep Prince William for very long.  A year later, my father was transferred to Alaska, and Prince William went to stay in Florida with a friend of my father's who, coincidentally, owned Prince William's cousin.  The cousin was extremely aggressive, and I remember being terrified of him, but I was never afraid of Prince William.

Everything I can remember about him is good.

German Shepherds and Children - Part 1

Several years ago, a friend of my sister's who had very small children told her that she had always wanted a German Shepherd, but her husband was aghast at the idea.  "A German Shepherd?" he asked.  "With little kids? Are you crazy?"

When I was 2 years old, my father went to serve in Korea (he was an officer in the Army) and my mother went to live in Indiana, with her two small children, while he was away.  The house that she happened to rent was near a cornfield, and one night when she was standing in her back yard, she noticed a man hiding in it, watching her.  She promptly called the state police, and the office who came out told her he had only one piece of advice for her:  "Get a German Shepherd."

She did...a 1 year old mostly tan German Shepherd that she named Brutus.  This promptly solved the problem of the man in the cornfield, but it also solved another problem that she had, with me.

After multiple surgeries as a baby, I was slow to develop motor skills, and at the age of 2, I was still unable to walk.  Thus far, I had not shown any motivation to learn, either, but this changed when Brutus came to live with us.

Brutus helped me learn how to stand.  My mother says I would literally pull myself up by him, and he would let me.  I learned to walk with his assistance, as well.  She said I have two favorite places to grab him by when I was doing this...the first was by his tail, and the second was by his mouth.  I can't imagine that any of this was pleasant for him, even though I was very small, but he never showed the slightest bit of impatience or even reluctance when it came to helping me.  According to my mother, we would walk around and around the dining room table in this manner, until I finally learned to walk by myself.

Interestingly enough, he also seemed to be a guardian of sorts for me.  When my mother had to go into the hospital for an operation, and my father's aunt came over to care for us, she put Brutus outside the entire time because she was afraid of him, and I promptly began to walk into walls.  Although nobody realized it at the time, I had a visual defect that made me extremely accident prone, and I wonder, now, if Brutus might not have known something about this, as well.

My parents did not have Brutus nearly long enough.  Two years later, my father had to go serve in Vietnam, and my mother returned back to the Netherlands with us while he was gone.  Brutus was given away to some people who owned a farm.  I was too young to retain a clear memory of him, but for years, as a child, I had an imaginary dog that I named "Brutee"  Now, of course, I realize that even as young as I was, I must have remembered him, and "Brutee" was the name I must have called him as a baby.

The Boy and the Bike

When my boyfriend was a child, his grandmother owned a German Shepherd named Tiger that almost everyone in the neighborhood was afraid of.  One of the few exceptions to this was a boy with autism who lived on the same street.  Whereas everyone else was afraid to even approach Tiger (with good reason), this boy befriended him, and Tiger was unfailingly patient with him.  According to my boyfriend, Tiger "just knew" that there was something different about the boy.

Although I have always had a very high opinion of the intelligence of German Shepherds, I wondered about the accuracy of this statement...until one day when Prince displayed the same "sense."

At the time it occurred, Prince was out in the yard, and I happened to be at the back door, keeping an eye on him.  Suddenly he began to bark, and when I stepped out to see what the commotion was all about, I saw a boy pushing his bike up the street past my yard.

Most bicycle riders unlucky enough to pass by when Prince is outside tend to pick up the pace when they see him...quickly.  This boy, however, stopped walking as soon as Prince began to bark at him, propped his bike up on the sidewalk and marched directly up to him, both arms outstretched.

Prince's initial reaction frightened me.  He dodged away and then rushed back at the boy, the hair on his back standing on end.  I expected the boy to back off, but instead he leaned over the fence, still reaching for Prince, and shouted something unintelligible at him.  As I started to run toward them, Prince leaped up on the fence toward him...and then froze.

A very good boy

Suddenly, all of the aggression seemed to melt out of him.  He stared at the boy (who was still shouting at him), sniffed at his face and then slowly began to wag his tail, putting his ears back at the same time.  As the boy continued to shout at him, Prince leaned toward him in an almost solicitous manner and actually began sniffing at his mouth, his tail wagging wildly the whole time.  The boy began to pat him, vigorously, and then hugged him, hard, around the neck, as Prince licked his face.  When Prince finally got down from the fence, the boy backed off, picked up his bike and walked on.

My father told me years ago that German Shepherds react strongly to fear, and I have heard other people say this, as well.  Prince really does react differently to people that are scared of him than he does to people who really seem to like him (especially when he is in his yard).  I have to acknowledge that he might have responded as he did, at least in part, because the boy showed absolutely no fear of him.  I really doubt, though, that he would have reacted the same way if anyone else had been so forward with him.  I have to conclude that my boyfriend was probably right about his grandmother's German Shepherd.

German Shepherds really do "just know."

A German Shepherd Never Forgets - Part 2

When Prince was a little less than a year old, he got his first exposure to fireworks.  At first, it didn't seem to faze him at all... a few times, he acted a bit startled, but as time went on, and he heard them more, he showed less and less reaction...until the teenage boy who lived across the street invited some friends over for a fireworks fest.

In spite of the large number of fireworks they were setting off, Prince still didn't seem to care (although my Chihuahua, who was inside, was shaking uncontrollably).  Then one of the boys came up with the idea of inserting fireworks into bottles and throwing them into the street.  Before I had time to get Prince inside, one of the boys threw a bottle directly at my yard, and it exploded in the street near my fence.

Understandably, Prince was frightened, and immediately hid behind me.  The boy who actually lived across the street then came to retrieve the bottle (and perhaps to apologize?) but he never got the chance.

Prince immediately associated him with the incident that had just occurred, and began to bark at him so ferociously that the boy gave up and retreated back to his own yard.  After the boy yelled at his friends, the fireworks fest ended, and I hoped that the incident was behind us.

Unfortunately, for Prince, it never was.



Mother's Day Weekend 2014

One of the results of walking Prince and exposing him to a variety of different people had been that, as he had grown older, he had grown remarkably tolerant of anyone we met in public.  Even if we passed someone in close proximity, the most he would do was sniff at them politely or, if they backed away from him, simply stare.  The permanent exception to this was the boy he associated with the explosion.

Almost a year later, when we were walking past the boy's house, I noticed Prince pulling back and staring at someone.  When the boy came walking toward us, Prince immediately began to growl and then to lunge at him.  Scolding him made absolutely no difference...Prince still associated him with the unpleasant experience, and nothing I did helped him to overcome this.  Interestingly enough, he also associated the incident with the boy's family, toward whom he displayed uncharacteristic aggression from that time on.

Years ago, I wondered why a lot people who tease dogs tend to be less likely to tease a German Shepherd.  I think now I know why.

A German Shepherd never forgets.

A German Shepherd Never Forgets

When I was 13 years old, my parents purchased a male German Shepherd puppy from some reputable breeders in Gretna.  While I no longer remember their names, or the name of their kennel, I do recall that the puppy was descended from a champion German Shepherd named Wilva Don's Bikini.  His name was Count of Holland.

As a child, I was unable to appreciate the extraordinarily calm temperament and stoic personality that Count possessed.  I thought he was boring.  He almost never barked at anyone (a simple stare sufficed to chase most people away), his only sign of anger even in the most provoking of circumstances was a low growl, and he greeted all visitors at our house calmly and politely.  The only naughty thing he ever did was steal our dolls' babies, which he would never chew up, just take in his mouth and run away with.

The only exception he ever made was for the boy who lived next door to us.

Count of Holland

Although Count had never barked at any of the neighbors, they all displayed an inexplicable fear of him. Perhaps it was this that motivated one of them to shoot Count in the leg one day, when he was briefly outside by himself.  We never heard anything, but he came to the back door on 3 legs when we let him in, and when my father promptly took him to the veterinarian, he was told that somebody had shot Count in his left front leg.

Since nobody had seen anything, we figured we would never know who the culprit was...but we hadn't realized how furious Count was about the situation.  The next time we let him outside, and the neighbor boy came into his yard, we saw a side of Count we had never seen before.

Count literally went insane... all of the hair on his back rose up and he started throwing himself against the fence, acting as if he were going to clear it and rend the boy limb from limb.  The boy instantly went back into the house, and my father went over to talk to his parents, realizing who the culprit had to be.

The parents never admitted that their 16-year-old son had actually shot our dog, but the boy almost never came into the yard again when Count was outside.  When he did, even years later, Count would react in exactly the same manner, promptly driving him back inside.  Even when Count was very old, and the boy left for a period of time and then came back to visit, Count still remembered what he had done.

With the memory of what had happened to Count in my mind, I have always attempted to be outside whenever Prince is, or at least standing in the doorway watching him.  Even these efforts, however, could not prevent Prince from going through his own traumatic event...which he, as well, has never forgotten.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Disappointed as I was by Prince's bad behavior, I had yet to see the worst of it.  This occurred when a young friend of my boyfriend's, Kurt, came by for an impromptu visit.  My boyfriend and I both thought it might do Prince some good to play with a fairly young man, not only to tire him out, but also to enable him to see men in a more positive light.  Since Kurt was only uncomfortable around very small dogs, he was more than willing to play with Prince, and I let Prince out into the back yard with him and crossed my fingers.

At first, everything seemed to be going surprisingly well.  Kurt threw a stick for Prince several times, which Prince happily retrieved.  They then played a spirited game of tag, with Prince pursuing Kurt around our picnic table in an enthusiastic manner.  Things took a turn for the worse when Kurt doubled back on his heels in an attempt to excite Prince even more.

At that instant, Prince leaped into the air, his mouth dangerously close to Kurt's face, and snapped, his jaws coming together with a noise reminescent of a steel trap closing.

The most amazing thing, to me, was how Kurt avoided Prince's jaws.  He jerked back in a movement of breathtaking agility, causing Prince to miss him by mere millimeters.  Obviously stunned, he then froze, and I grabbed Prince by the collar and pulled him back.

That was the exact moment that Prince's transformation occurred.

I halfway expected him to turn on me and nip at me in the manner that he had when he was a pup, but instead he instantly calmed down and stood by my side, the picture of good behavior.  It was as if he had changed from Mr. Hyde to Dr. Jekyll.

Later, I figured it must have been the countless walks I had taken him on, wherein he knew that he was at least partially under my control, and not able to do exactly what he wanted.  I think, now, this is what had frustrated him so immensely during our first walks, when he had repeatedly attacked my feet, until he accepted my "authority."

It was another turning point in my training of him...or perhaps in his training of me.

Prince doesn't jump on people anymore when they come into the yard, and he never tries to nip anybody.  For a while, I would hold him by the collar, just to be sure, whenever we had a male visitor, but now he will simply say hello to them and then ignore them.

I think this is because he has finally matured.

My boyfriend says it's because he's already tasted everybody we know.

A Very Bad Dog - Part 2

Shortly after Prince began to exhibit his new, alarming tendency to jump onto men's backs, my boyfriend invited an old friend of his over to see what advice he might have to offer.  Greg was a large, burly man with a loud, commanding voice who claimed to know a great deal about German Shepherds.  He walked into the yard where Prince was in a confident manner.

"What you have to keep in mind," he said, as soon as Prince came ambling toward him, "is that German Shepherds recognize assertiveness in people.  If they know you're not the sort of person to put up with being jumped on, they won't jump on you."

"Okay," I said, thinking that thus far, Prince didn't seem to be reacting any differently toward Greg than he had toward any of the men he had jumped on.  But Greg seemed so sure of himself, I held my tongue.

"Come here, Prince," Greg said, in a loud voice, and held out his hand to him.

Prince happily complied, ambling up to him, sniffing at his hands and then frisking away.

"See," Greg said, somewhat proudly.

"He doesn't jump on you until you turn your back," I started to say, but Greg turned away from me to say something to my boyfriend, and didn't hear me.  The instant he did, Prince rushed forward and jumped up on his back, causing him to stumble forward.

Prince in a more pensive mood

"No!!" Greg bellowed, his face slightly red as he recovered his balance and whirled around.

I started to tell him I really didn't want him to yell at my dog but refrained from doing so in light of how provoking Prince had actually been.  Besides, Prince really didn't seem to care.  After giving Greg a thoughtful look, he went to lie several feet away, with an old bone, and began to chew on it in an innocent manner.

"That will probably be the last time that happens," Greg told me confidently.

I glanced at Prince, who was wearing an almost chastened expression.  Perhaps, I thought, Greg was right...but a certain gleam in Prince's eye made me wonder.  He didn't look repentant.

He looked as if he were pretending to be repentant.

For the next several minutes, Greg kept a watchful eye on Prince.  Then, as Prince continued to ignore him, he turned back to my boyfriend, eventually becoming so engrossed in the conversation that he turned his back toward Prince again.

In the next second, Prince dropped his bone, hurtled toward Greg, jumped onto his back so hard that Greg almost went to his knees...and nipped the back of Greg's head.

"Prince, no!" I shouted, and dove toward him.  Obviously delighted with himself, he stood still long enough for me to grab him by the collar and drag him inside away from Greg, whose face was now almost purple with rage.

Suddenly Prince's jumping on men's backs seemed almost comical compared with this new, far worse behavior, which I had no idea what to do about.

Unfortunately, things were going to get worse before they got better.