Dog Trainer's Log

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I subscribe to a number of email dog-training newsletters. In yesterday’s inbox, this subject line stopped me in my tracks:

“Owning a Working Dog – Adam’s Thoughts”

A quick look at the article got even more interesting. Before I knew it I was reading and nodding along with the author, Adam Katz, who opened with:

“Deciding what breed of dog to own is an exciting endeavor. I love all dog breeds. And more than anything, I love studying the characteristics and attributes of each breed, and discovering what makes each one different and unique. For many years, I’ve been attracted to the working dog breeds.

“But I’m starting to reach greater clarity as to what type of dogs I want in my life right now. As I get older, I’m less willing to deal with the high maintenance that some of these extreme working breeds require.”

I know exactly what Katz means. And although he characterizes Belgian Malinois as a ‘working’ (dog sport) breed, it’s the herding characteristics of the Malinois that would likely drive me right ’round the bend.

From 1983 to 1987, I was the weekend and then daily manager at a boarding kennel. When I first started, the kennel had 6 outdoor runs and 17 indoor year-round kennels. All of the dogs were hand-exercised (read: walked on slip leads to the outdoor runs) four times every day. In summer, as soon as the hose from the house to the lower kennel wouldn’t freeze, they opened the lower kennel building which added another 20 indoor-outdoor runs to the party. During winter break, they’d often open the lower kennel for overflow dogs (and hand-carry water in jugs because outdoor hoses freeze in February in central New York.) Within 18 months, they started a new building addition to the upper kennel to handle their increased business. By the time I left, the kennel had over 50 indoor-outdoor runs, another 17 indoor-only kennels, and the lower kennel was in nearly year-round use (even though a hose from the house was still its main water supply.)

One of our kennel games was called “how many breeds have you had on your leash?” We each kept a mental chart of how many and which breeds were are most and least favorite. After four years of walking, hand-exercising, feeding, amusing and grooming 150 dogs (or more) a day, I could mark off 123 of the AKC‘s and FCI‘s recognized breeds, and name some very exotic random-bred dog combinations. What I learned about myself managing that kennel are the things that still affect my dog breed choices.

So I’m going to say these things, out loud. I admit in advance that some people will see these thoughts as a failing, but they are truth – the thing I and the dogs I train respect more than anything.

I don’t particularly like living with high maintenance, yippy dogs (herding dogs come to mind.) I love corgis – both Pembrokes and Cardigans. I love shelties. I love Belgian Malinois, and Belgian Tervuren. I love border collies. And I would kill most of them if I had to live with them 24/7.

I love grooming, but when I’m sick, it’s tough to keep up a dog in show coat and why own a coated dog if you’re going to cut the coat down? So I chose English cockers, rather than their more heavily coated American cocker cousins. And while I give my neutered dogs the illusion of coat by cleaning out their entire undersides, and clip down my old dogs to minimize their time standing for grooming, I always agonize over taking a dog’s coat down. No matter how much the clip makes them look and feel like puppies again, I hate doing it. Yes, somedays I fantasize about living with a greyhound or other short-coated breed. I am strongly attracted to whippets for just this reason – no coat to speak of, and they fit in a manageable size crate.

Manageable size in crate needs has always been important. I used to joke at the kennel that I would never own a dog who needed a crate that was taller than I am – and I’m 5′o”. Now that surgery has limited what I can lift, 100 and 200-size crates and folding nylon soft-crates look pretty good…so good that I own three soft crates for each dog, three for the cat, and one soft 300+ crate to kennel Casey and M. together if needed. Each time I remember what it was like to load, unload and reload at dog shows 200 pounds’ worth of suitcase-style folding metal crates (two 400s, four 300s, and two crates in sizes that don’t fit any numbering system but magically fit inside my 1980 Citation), I am amazed all over again. I look at my little $9.99 JC Penney’s luggage dolly and marvel that I used to be able to put ALL of my folding crates on it. It went so many places with so little help. But I am saner now – and never again will I tote that much of a load.

I don’t particularly like living with old dogs.

Sure, all dogs get old. But some dogs get old at a relatively young age, and then *stay* old, gradually deteriorating and fumbling through life for another five or seven years. Airedales and Wire Fox Terriers (many terriers, come to that) tend to do this – so as strikingly beautiful as I find them, I know I couldn’t live with one long-term. My first breed, English Springer Spaniels, have one bad year and (usually) die between 12 and 14. I lost both of my ESS bitches early, around 10. Jazz outlived all expectations, making it to a hearty 14+ before suddenly developing a gastric torsion for which he had to be euthanized. But for each of my ESS, there was a brief amount of bad times, and then they passed.

Gordon Setters are similar – one bad year, and then they die between 12 and 14. Bard lived to be 12+. Reuben is still going strong at 10+.

Speaking of going strong – Reuben was the first dog who made me realize that I was living with more dog than I could handle. Not at first – he and I struggled through four years of his tumultuous adolescence and finally had reached a turning point of peaceful coherence in our relationship. But my second major illness of his young life smacked me down – a stage IV cancer diagnosis which at the time (2004) was expected to kill me long before Reu would be an old dog – I knew I had to do the responsible thing. I placed him with Bruce and Monica B. to live out his active years training and competing in agility – and I know that Reu and Bruce are happy together.

But it really was a wake-up call to recognize that maybe the best working dog I’d ever owned – my dream dog – was not going to work out for me. It felt wonderful to watch him successfully transition to his new home (I’d taught him those skills, so maybe I really was that good…) But I’d chosen this hard-driving puppy for exactly the qualities that now meant I needed to give him up, so that he could succeed. I felt like a complete failure as a trainer.

After some of the same personal realiztions, Katz placed his recently adopted Belgian malinois in a home more suited to the dog’s activity level and temperament. The need to place the dog with someone else wasn’t an easy thing for him to recognize – that was the point of his article. He closed with this comment:

“The best way I can describe it is that: It’s the difference between owning a Ferrari and a Rolls Royce. One is built for high performance racing, the other for smooth cruising. This last experience with “The Dude” has reminded me (again) that I’m at the Rolls Royce stage of my life.”

Now, as I sit on the couch with two dogs from the third breed I’ve lived with long-term in my adult life – English Cocker spaniels, senior citizen (Casey, 15) and young girl (Madi, 7) – I know in my head and my heart that these guys are exactly the right dogs for me at this time in my life. They are not from a breed that every trainer would consider the best working dogs. They are not perfect dogs in any way – as Casey reminds me every time he eats inappropriate things and M. reminds me when she forgets her words. But each dog fits my temperament, adapts to my inconsistent energy levels, and responds to my mad training skills. I fit their cuddling and their attention and their working needs. And all three of us fit together like a complex interconnected triplet of puzzle pieces when we doze off on the couch at the end of the day.

I guess that means we’re really perfect for each other.

What’s your perfect breed? Has that changed as you’ve gotten more experience, or gotten older?