My Doggie Shrink Sessions

Did I ever tell you about the time I met a pack of German Shepherds and a shrink? It happened out in the sticks and my dad said the place looked like a Paramilitary or Michigan Militia compound. It wasn't, though. As near as I could figure out, the guy who owned the place trained dogs who needed to work for a living. My vet had sent us out there to meet who my mom called Dr. Spock of Dogdom. He was an animal behaviorist who specialized in problem dogs. At nine months old, already I had earned that label even as tiny, cute and cuddly as I was. I had completed puppy pre-school and obedience training but my mom was getting worried because when I played I used to bite all the time, among lesser offenses in the world of humans.

Dr. Spock of Dogdom was the sternest person I ever met in my whole life. None of my puppy antics could make him crack a smile. He asked questions about my birth mother---he called her a bitch and I didn't like that very well. He wanted to know about my adoption day when I was just barely five weeks old. Then he had my adoptive mom show him what we'd learned at obedience school and how we played together. I even had to mix it up with some German Shepherds puppies and God, let me tell you that was the scarcest moment in my young life! I didn't like the canine mixers at obedience school much either. To me, humans were a lot more fun.

Mom told him about my worthless time-out cage and he told her about a shock collar he could use if I didn't straighten out by my next appointment. A shock collar! I could tell by the way a few of those German Shepherds reacted to those words that I didn't want one of those 'shocky' things. That's when I decided to pay attention to what this guy had to say for fear my parents would leave me there to learn how to be a junk yard guard dog or something more ominous than that. Working for my kibble didn't have much appeal to me plus those big dogs could have eaten me for breakfast and still been hungry afterwards.

At home over the next month my adoptive mom practiced what she called her 'alpha dog voice' and I spent a lot of time in my time-out cage. Back then, I wasn't too sure if Dr. Spock had given mom any better advice than the obedience instructor had. The woman had my mom bite me whenever I bit her. I never did get the point of that exercise and mom seemed embarrassed when she had to explain why I was covered with lipstick. But finally the principle of 'cause and effect' did kick in and I figured out if I bit mom I couldn't spend as much time in her company. I love my mom.

By the time I had to go back to Dr. Spock he pronounced me improved enough that we didn't need the shock collar. Thank heavens. Even as well behaved as I was that day, he still didn't crack a smile. The German Shepherds seemed happy to see my again, though, but I was sure glad I never had to visit those big guys or that stern shrink ever again. ©
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