Getting Spooked
We always had dogs, all
shapes sizes and breeds. My children and I loved dogs. My husband hated them.
Out voted he succumbed to family pressure. Every time a dog added had passed
over, he would say, “this is the last ! I refuse to have another wild animal in
the house.” I silently brought in the next puppy and then--- it was too late.
Penny was a miniature
Pomeranian. She fitted in the palm of your hand when fully grown. She looked
like an angel. But nothing could be further from the truth. She hid in the back of the refrigerator and under the
sofa. She pounced on unwary passers by. Domestics who were cleaning the house,
( I immunized them all and paid a great deal of “bite money”) guests who tried
to get up from the sofa---. She did not obey a single command, BUT we
discovered she was scared of heights. Whenever we wanted to restrain her, we
just put her on the window ledge or bookshelf. She was fanatically protective
of the children. Electricians, plumbers,
tradesman and others who came to the house were petrified. Word spread. No
burglar ever came near us. (They attacked some of our neighbours though)!
Penny died after 16 years.
The children were devastated. The vet who looked after Penny in her last days
offered me a pup from her dog’s litter.
“They are a cross between a
Tibetan terrier and a Lhasa Apso”. I saw the pups. Four black ones lay huddled
together and a white and black one lay confidently alone under the table. I took the black and
white. A friend named him Axl.
He bit me as soon as he was
weaned off the feeding bottle (and not dependent on me any more). He bit me
several times over the years. My husband was very triumphant .
“Finally a dog with sense”.
He told everyone. “He bites only Gita.”
Axl decided that he wanted
one of my husband’s shoes as a pillow. Husband tried confidently to remove
it—and received his first bite of the season! He never bit my son, daughter, son-in -law or grandson. (He was
fiercely protective of my grandson). Watched over him while sleeping and fetched
my daughter the minute he stirred or whimpered.
I was reduced to bathing him with a hose from
a distance. My son taught him many fancy commands. I managed nothing! If I so
much as said “sit “ he looked disdainfully at me and walked off!
“You have to exert your
authority,” said my son.
I tried discipline by whacking the ground next
to him with a newspaper. The loud sound was supposed to work. He attacked the
newspaper, bit it to shreds and had me fleeing for my life. It all seemed very futile.
Axl passed on to be replaced
by Jaz. A large black Labrador. His sole duty was to run with me in the
mornings. My friend (who had many dogs ) said, “labs are quiet and gentle. Very
easy to train”. She could not have been more wrong. He was boisterous, did not
know his own strength, and disobedient to a fault. All I managed to teach him
was “sit”, and that too only for a few minutes.
I came to Iowa to visit my
son. Since my last visit, he had a acquired a dog, a black and white (sound
familiar?) cross between a husky and a ?dalmation. He was the same size as Jaz
and equally strong.
“Don’t worry “ said my son.
He is part husky so he does not bark. I
took him to obedience school. He is very well trained. He has a certificate.
SEE?”
The certificate was stuck on
the fridge. Son was right. Spooky was very well behaved.
I went to the toilet. When I
came out he was standing on the dining table.
“No,” I said, ”get off!”
He refused to listen.
Cajoling, treats, threats, all to no avail. I was scared to sit there with him
towering over me and so I stood up and ate my lunch.
The next day he started
barking furiously at the back door. (He KNEW how to bark). I let him out, only
to have him chase a squirrel like a dog possessed. It was next to impossible to
get him back in the house. He did eventually come in but only a half hour
before my son returned.
“I don’t understand you ma,”
said son disbelievingly , “he is very good”.
The next day, he knocked over
the trash can repeatedly.
I took him for a walk but he
seemed to think that I was telling him to attack an elderly couple with walking
sticks. I dragged him across the road. He has a new type of spring leash so it
stretches. It was very difficult to restrain him, and very embarrassing. The
couple looked at me daggers drawn. He bit the leash and attacked it all the way
home when he was not getting tangled in my legs.
A police women came up to the
front door the next day. She did not ring the bell but peeped in through the
glass panel. Spooky was watching her silently from the landing. I almost jumped
out of my skin on the way to the basement with the laundry.
“Excuse me,” she said and
showed me her badge.
I opened the door and found
that she had some questions about a
truck parked nearby.
Spooky did not even bark. He
just watched her with interest, wagging his tail. Perhaps he was trained to
recognize authority in the form of uniforms?
Three days later Spooky
jumped my son from behind and almost wrestled him to the ground, trying to pin
him down like he was prey.
“He is playing,” my son said.
”Stop! No.” Apparently all commands had to be single words!
It was no use. Finally we got
a spray bottle and sprayed him in the face with water. That stopped him.
“This is ridiculous. He has forgotten everything he
learnt in obedience school.”
He turned and looked at me.
“Its all your fault.”
“Mine?” I said “what did I
do?”
“All your dogs have been like
this. It is your personality. It rubs off on the dogs-------“
Dr. Gita Mathai
The
writer is a paediatrician with a family practice at Vellore.
If you
have any questions on health issues please write to
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