My Love Affair with German Shepherd Dogs

While I was happily settled in my new home, with neighbors who never complained to me about my dogs, I was also in the beginning phases of my career as a nursing professor. My colleague at the UCLA School of Nursing, Marnie Wood, introduced me to the world of pure-bred dogs, dog training, and dog shows. Even though she bred, showed, and trained Cocker Spaniels, she was very accepting of my devotion to German Shepherd dogs. One weekend, she invited me to attend a Puppy Match, a dog show for puppies and dogs who needed ring training. While there, I saw a German Shepherd that I thought was stunning. I approached the owner and found out that the dog was pregnant. I asked if she would let me know when she had a litter. She called me one day to tell me her dog had delivered, and the puppies were ready to go to new homes. By this time, I had heard of puppy temperament testing, so I took a book on the subject with me to test the puppies in the litter. It was a lovely litter, and I would have had a difficult time choosing a puppy if I had not had the temperament test. I chose a beautiful black and gold girl who passed the test, who I named Benehmen. The breeder had asked that I name the puppy starting with the letter “B.” So I got out my German/English dictionary and started scanning the words that began with a “B.” When I got to Benehmen, I decided that is what I would name my puppy. I called her Benay for short. I gave all my dogs a German name. I even had a dictionary of just German names. Some of the names I had to look up in a German/English dictionary such as Zehren. (It’s hard to find a name that begins with ‘Z.”) Most pure-bred breeders have a system by which they name the puppies in a litter. I followed Doris Rossini’s method and named my litters alphabetically. (More on Doris later.) Marnie Wood named her litters after song titles. Benay grew up to have a lovely temperament. But she was not a show dog--in other words, not “show quality.” In fact, she bore little resemblance to her mother. I had a friend show Benay in the Hollywood dog show that first year, but both the handler and Benay were so untrained for the ring, it was a disastrous experience never to be repeated. Whenever I was out of town for a meeting, I took Benay to Marnie’s home for boarding. During the summer months, she always invited her Canadian nieces and nephews to California for visits. Highlights of those visits were trips to the beach; the children were told they could each pick a dog as companion. They invariably chose Benay, much to Marnie’s disappointment, since she had assumed that they would pick one of her dogs. Frustrated, she finally settled on a plan. “We are taking Benay. Now choose a dog for yourself!” On another occasion, a friend of hers brought her toddler along for a visit. As the toddler crawled through the doggie door, she met Benay coming out. Startled, Benay gave a woof! From then on, she was called “Woofer” at Marnie’s house. Another friend introduced me to her dog trainer and Benay and I took obedience classes. In those days, obedience classes were on the Germanic model. Fierce corrections. No coddling. Benay was six months old, the youngest allowed in obedience classes at that time. (I have since learned that obedience training can begin early, while they are still very young puppies. They pick up obedience quickly and retain it for life. Especially if the lessons are short and fun.) Poor little Benay; I was so impatient with her. At the end of six week of lessons, we held graduation classes that consisted of going through all the exercises we had learned. Benay won hands down, although it was a tight decision between Benay and an older Basset Hound. I always wanted to live in a home with a swimming pool. After all I was living in California! Not only did I drive a convertible, I wanted a pool too! So I eventually left my perfect home for a house with a pool and an enormous undeveloped back yard. By this time, I had three dogs: Bitte, Shotzie, and Benay, My property was designated as agricultural land. The previous owner had kept chickens, so there was a chicken house. Neighbors had various other farm animals. In addition, there was an area where the previous owner had a fenced vegetable garden. I re-awakened the area and converted it into raised vegetable beds. So there was plenty of room for the dogs to run and play. But there was a problem with the pool. What if they fell in and didn’t know how to get out? Our obedience trainer, Jhana, came to the rescue. (By the way, she too became a “relative by dog.”) Jhana had learned of a method of training dogs to get out of a pool. One afternoon she came over to train the dogs with a photographer from a community newspaper. What an afternoon! The method is very simple but emotionally hard on the dogs: Put the dog on a collar and get a very long clothesline and attach it to the collar. (A very long leash would be better.) Pick up the dog and throw it as far out into the deep end of the pool as possible. The dog will be frantic but will start paddling. Start pulling the dog gently toward the steps leading out of the pool. Wait till the dog recovers, then do it again, over and over until the dog gets the idea and heads for the steps as soon as they are in the pool. Most of my life The dogs were featured in the community newsletter.