The Old Man With the Stick
There I Was...#64
JoeUser Forums
Believe it or not, most German Shepherds have to be trained to bite people. The trainers start when the dogs are young, about 9 months, with what they call "aggravation training". The handler holds the dog on a leash while his assistant approaches in a semi-menacing manner. The handler acts afraid and yells at the assistant. A smart dog will pick up on the situation and will bark at the intruder. When he does, the handler pets him up and encourages that behavior. After a few sessions like this, the dog learns to be assertive to menacing intruders and will begin barking without encouragement or playacting from the handler. Once that behavior is established, the next step is for the intruder to approach closer, usually carrying a stick. At this new development, most dogs will start to act very aggressive toward the stick man. It usually doesn't take many sessions like this before the next step...stick man approaches and actually hits the dog with the stick. Before you PETA types get wonky on me, the hitting is not hard or painful, it is meant to stir up the most aggressive behavior and prepare the dog to actually bite the stick man. The stick man will pop the dog on the nose and face and flanks, with less force than you would expend on a two year old kid playing with matches or sticking fingers in a light socket. This infuriates the dog and he will begin snapping.
Once that plateau has been reached, the stick man dons the big leather sleeve. He goes through all the other aggravation steps and then starts smacking the heavy leather sleeve with the stick. The dog is furious by now. The handler lets out just enough slack in the leash so that the dog can latch onto the leather sleeve. Over the next few sessions, the dog learns to go for the sleeve, gets whapped by the stick and rewarded by the handler and in just a couple weeks has gone from a kennel pup to an aggressive dog who is ready to be trained to be a ferocious attacker. The dogs learn how to pull on the arm, shake the arm, drag the aggravator to the ground and to hit the aggravator from an all out run. Oh, it is a beautiful thing to see a fully grown, fully trained Shepherd streak across the yard, ears up, a 100 lb brown and black fur torpedo hitting the aggravator (who is now covered in a padded suit as well as the heavy leather sleeve)and knocking him flat. Whew...I gets vapors just remembering it.
So...I told you all that so I could tell you this. I was parked in back of the MP station on Turley Barracks in Mannheim, Germany. I left Golf, my German Shepherd, in the car, I was only going to be in the building for a couple of minutes. He loved to have something to guard...the car was one of his favorite things to protect. After the upset of his very first car ride, he fell in love with cars.
When I came back out to the car, I noticed Golf was aggitated; jumping over the seats, back to front and back, growling and grumbling. I should have been more careful opening the door, but he was a fully trained Schutzhund III (a protection dog third level, trained to respond to voice command without a leash and all that) and I didn't anticipate his acting on his own. But he did. Across the parking lot was an old German gentleman. He was dressed in a very nice gray suit, wore a Tyrolean style hat, and walked with a cane. And Golf went after him like he was a Big Mac. Male Shepherds rarely make a noise in attack mode. Females will still be barking crazily through a mouthful of your arm or leg or whatever. So with virtually no warning except the scrabbling sound of toenails on asphalt, the old fella turned to see my torpedo flying for his arm. He turned quickly and half stepped back, causing Golf to miss his arm but grabbing instead, the old guys suit coat and tearing a triangle hole about two or three inches across. It happened so fast that Golf hit the old man at about the same time I gathered enough of my wits to call him out. They are trained to hit hard and hold on until their handler calls them "Out" (or "Aus")...then they hold an overwatch position. If the target moves an inch after the dog has been called out, the dog immediately attacks again without command.
Golf had gone crazy, attacking without command, but fortunately he responded to the "out" command and we all paused a second to catch our breath. I looked at the old German gent who now owned me and everything I would ever have and wondered why Golf would want a taste of this harmless old man. I told Golf to recover and assume a "heel" ("Bei fuss") position. Normally when he had done something wrong, he was visably repentant, tucked tail, folded ears, head low, etc. He showed no sign of that behavior. He actually looked proud of himself. As if he could read my mind, the old man said it was the stick. My furrowed brow brought out more explanation from him. He reminded me of the aggravation training the dogs get in their youth. Something about the cane he carried triggerd the Bezerker in Golf.
We had a lengthy conversation about dogs and training, he had owned several German Shepherds and had trained dogs as a hobby for years. Once they were formally introduced, he and Golf became great friends. He thought Golf was a beautiful dog. When he asked about his pedigree and found out the line Golf came out of, he smiled and said he was familiar with that kennel and some of the great dogs that had come out of it. All through the niceties, I was sweating bullets waiting for the other shoe to drop. Finally, I couldn't wait any longer and asked him what I needed to do to make this whole thing right. He made that typical German gesture, almost a puffing blow through closed lips and said that meeting such a fine dog was reward enough. He understood that no matter how well trained a dog is, they still have the capacity to surprise us. He gave me a short lecture on paying more attention to the aggitation signs and not relying on voice to completely control an aggitated dog. I didn't exactly grovel...well...maybe a little...and thanked him and apologized over and over and finally we parted...if not friends, then at least fellow dog lovers.
As we walked back to the car and the old man headed in the other direction, swinging his cane with an occasional tap on the ground, Golf kept looking over his shoulder and grumbling. I guess he really didn't like the stick.
Stardock Forums
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