Karla News

Are You Ready for a Poodle Mix?

My son declared that he wanted a puppy, and as our dog was getting long in the tooth, it seemed time to introduce a new one to the family. Addie, the senior dog, was not consulted as to what breed this dog was to be. If she had been, she probably would have told us not to get a poodle mix.

I had recently heard that poodle mixes didn’t shed, so I determined to wait for one before granting my son’s request. When the local animal shelter listed a shepherd-poodle mix puppy on its web site, we immediately set off to meet the little guy. Scooby, as he was later named, had curly black hair with a white streak on his chest. He was quite friendly and also very energetic. He’s a puppy, we thought. He will calm down as he grows. So we took him home.

Scooby did indeed grow. But calming down was not on his agenda. He was obsessed with food, and loved to grab it from our hands while performing acrobatics in mid-air. He rummaged through every corner of the house, and once he’d cleaned up every crumb my kids had left, he pulled dirty paper towels out of the trash and proceeded to consume them as well. This was intolerable, of course. Scooby was consigned to a crate, where he continued to grow exponentially. His innocent demeanor made it difficult to be angry with him. He clearly had no idea why what he was doing was wrong.

I of course let Scooby out whenever I had safely secured all the food and trash. My children quickly learned the meaning of the words “duck and cover.” This is what I say when I open his crate. He then bounds out, madly dashes about the house, then heads out to do his business. I follow the same procedure to let him back in. Everyone hangs on to a secure object as he whirls by in his excitement to be back in the house (small children have been caught in his wake and knocked off their feet).

See also  Grooming Your Labradoodle

Barking then became Scooby’s affliction on us. He didn’t like being in his crate, and his powerful lungs voiced his displeasure. Above the din he created, we couldn’t hear each other speak. First, we tried a collar designed to deliver a mild electric shock to boisterous canines. Whether Scooby ever felt this, we don’t know. He certainly didn’t seem to mind it. We were left with a dilemma: do we assume that the collar isn’t working, or try it on ourselves? Since we had no volunteers, we decided on another method.

A citronella barking collar is expensive, but it is worth every cent. Like a geyser, the collar will shoot a stream of citronella oil on the misbehaving canine whenever it barks. Scooby didn’t like this at all. He stopped barking, and he also smelled good. The battery of this collar isn’t long-lasting, but after going through several Scooby learned to keep his barking to a minimum, even when not wearing it.

When Scooby was about 10 months old he seemed to have completed his growth, although he was still filling out. He was striking specimen, and quite powerful. Clearly he needed exercise, but I knew this too would require some creativity. Addie and I could traverse the town happily, our paces were similar. Scooby had only two speeds: still and super-sonic. To walk him on a leash was to invite rotater cuff damage. But I’d seen people “riding” their dogs on bikes. The owner casually pedals along while the dog races alongside. On a bike, I thought, he would have to work to keep up with me. Scooby seemed open to the idea. After a few collisions, he learned to run alongside without getting in my way. But I underestimated his speed. On my bike, I was about as fast as Scooby – had he only three legs. With four, he still pulled on the leash, propelling us forward with his powerful neck muscles. Much more comfortable than walking him, to be sure, but hardly ideal. (I don’t recommend riding your dog unless you have excellent balance.)

See also  How to Take Care of a Pet Bunny

The final solution came in the form of a product called “Halti.” This is basically a halter that attaches to a leash at the base of the dog’s snout. Dogs will go in whatever direction their snouts point, much like horses. With this device in place, Scooby finally stopped pulling on the leash.

Scooby’s bad habits diminished as he grew. He no longer tried to take food from us, but would wait patiently for it to be given to him. With the help of some technology, Scooby’s other bad habits are managable. Because of his intelligence and desire to please, he has become a valued pet.

So, here is a typical day at our house, one year post-Scooby. He eagerly waits for us to wake up. I secure the trash and, shout “duck and cover,” and open the door to his crate. He dashes out and zips around maniacly. Eventually, the hurricane that is Scooby begins to abate. If we say something to him, he sits and cocks his head, as if trying to comprehend. Then he rolls onto his back for his daily tummy rub. If I pick up my bicycle helmet, he streaks around like a rocket, and bounds out the door ballistically. As we careen madly down the street, Scooby lunges at anything remotely canine. I generally manage to keep my balance and pull him back on course. When I arrive home, Addie looks at me aghast. How could you have done such a thing without conferring with me? she seems to be saying.