And Then There Were Two

Where's Panzer?

My son and Panzer recently moved into their own place. So the three amigos are now down to two.

Lots of people have been asking what it's like without Panzer in the house. Honestly, it's a kinder, gentler place.

Panzer, no doubt about it, was the alpha dog. Reacher was at the bottom of the heap, trying his best to live under the radar every day.

So, I believe Reacher is enjoying this two-dog arrangement. He and Vega have rekindled their playful relationship. He loves playing tag and doesn't even mind when she catches him.

Vega may steal Reacher's ball or snatch a bone. But the difference is that she's more polite than Panzer ever was.

Of course, Panzer isn't here to roughhouse with Vega. There's no more dragging each other down the steps. Or slamming into a wall during a wresting match. There's no more Panzer to throw Vega to the floor. Or vice versa.

If Vega misses some of that she's not complaining either.

So now the house is back to two dogs plus a lady. It's a kinder, gentler place around here. But it's still a long way from an empty nest.

The Silent Type

Of the three dogs, Panzer is the boisterous one of the bunch (see August 31, 2014 post). Vega barks with purpose. And Reacher is mostly mute. It's not that he's unable to bark. He just doesn't.

Any man, woman, child, dog or combination thereof, who passes by our house gets a mouthful from Panzer and Vega. But not Reacher. He simply stares, silently praying at least one of them will stop to play.

If there's an unexpected knock at the door, the two German Shepherds bark out a scary warning that's loud and clear. Reacher just waits to see who the visitor might be.

Deer grazing on the other side of the fence? Grab your earplugs. Panzer and Vega are about to go berserk. Reacher, on the other hand, is content to sit and study those white-tailed wonders.

Reacher never complains out loud when Panzer steals his bone. He stands quietly at the door and waits to be let outside. He doesn't sing for his supper. Reacher is simply the silent type.

In a house with a pair of barking manic German Shepherds, my two ears are grateful for that.

The Mouth of the South

A rare quiet moment 

Nearly two years ago when Vega had her puppies, one of the things that surprised me most was the  noise eight little black fur balls could generate. It was as if she birthed a chorus! I am convinced Panzer was the lead singer.

He is the most vocal dog I've ever encountered. His repertoire goes way beyond the typical barking, growling and whining most dogs do. Panzer also squeals, whimpers, yelps, howls and shrieks, depending on his mood and the circumstance.

He launches into a full blown growling, barking frenzy whenever man and/or beast walks past the house. As for wildlife in the backyard, yelping and shrieking are his sounds of choice. Deer, squirrels, chipmunks and birds: Beware!

He squeals like a stuck pig when he believes he's being unfairly detained in his crate. And if he's happy to see you, there's plenty of whining, with a little whimpering thrown in for good measure.

He's also been heard howling in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. It seems Panzer even talks in his sleep.

 

Partners In Crime

Reacher and Panzer are definitely not best buds. That's because Panzer takes every opportunity to show Reacher who's boss. This involves the evil eye, the threatening growl and occasionally the full-on attack. Needless to say, much of Reacher's day is spent trying to live under the radar. 

Recently however, the two of them have found common ground: crime. While Reacher is known for snatching muffins, tomatoes and anything else on the kitchen counter that strikes his fancy, Panzer is self-restrained. At least in that regard.

Reacher started things off earlier this summer when he snagged the butter container from the kitchen counter. There's something about the sound of a plastic container slapping on the tile floor that got my attention so I headed downstairs.

When I rounded the corner to the living room, I caught not only Reacher, but Panzer enjoying the spoils. Together! Neither was too happy when I broke up their puppy party and took the empty butter dish.

A couple of weeks ago, the two of them teamed up for something completely different. Digging a hole under the deck. Together! If two hands are better than one, four paws are definitely better than two. The hole was amazingly deep.

Since then, I've caught the two of them sharing the crumbs at the bottom of a nearly empty cereal box and eyeing - but not eating - a jar of peanut butter.

Friends? I doubt that will ever happen.

Partners in crime? Now you're talkin'! 

Assigned Seats

Vega's favorite office spot.

Maybe I should have said unassigned seats. You know what I mean. In college lecture halls, the same students always sit up front, while you can count on others to be perpetually in the back, or on the aisle or smack dab in the middle of the row. Ditto for church pews on Sundays and bleachers at summer Little League games.

It's pretty much the same in the dog world. At least at my house.

Find Panzer here in the evening.

Of course, with dogs it's mostly spots on the floor that I'm talking about. In my office, Vega's got my back. She lies against the wall behind my desk chair. Reacher is either under the desk or under the table because he must believe it offers some protection in case Panzer decides to launch an attack. As for the wild man himself, Panzer always choose the spot near the door so he can be the first one out each time he hears something (or thinks he does) that requires his frenzied attention.

The three of them have worked out similar arrangements in the kitchen. Vega is in the corner behind the table; Reacher is just outside the kitchen proper in the living room; Panzer is closest to the door. Of course.

In the evening, the dogs go in different directions, but always to the same spots. Vega keeps watch at the top of the stairs and Panzer lies outside my son's room. As you can see, Reacher prefers my bed at the end of a hard day, which is definitely not the spot I have assigned  him.

He thinks he deserves to be here.

Homegrown Tomato Trouble

Reacher's Favorite Tomatoes from
Nell's Farmers Market-Alpharetta, Georgia

Most weekends, I head to the local farmers' market. Loving-life Reacher is the dog who usually gets tapped for this outing. He's the most gregarious of my dogs and loves the crowds of adults, small children and pooches who often want to visit.

He's much more interested in all that attention than the watermelons, tomatoes, spinach and other fruits and vegetables for sale. Or so I thought.

Fast-forward to today:
When I returned from running errands, I noticed Panzer licking the carpet. Upon further investigation I discovered a definite wet spot tinged with pink. Hmmm.

Panzer led me to another spot. Also wet. Also pink.

Pee? No.

Blood? No.

A quick scan of the kitchen counter showed the peaches were still present and accounted for. Ditto for the plums. But .... the bag of tomatoes was nowhere in sight.

A more careful scan of the living room revealed a bag, sans tomatoes, under the coffee table.

The culprit? The only dog who has the run of the house while I'm away -- Reacher, aka the "Muffin Man" (see the July 12, 2014 post). Apparently, now the "Tomato Snatcher" as well.

On our next trip to the farmers' market I guess I should buy my big Boxer boy some Big Boys or maybe a Beefsteak or two, of his own.


Other farmers market finds fit for dogs: pumpkin, green beans, sweet potatoes, apples, peanut butter, baby carrots, eggs, blueberries, cantaloupe, watermelon, asparagus and brussel sprouts.

Never give your dog: chocolate, onions, grapes, raisins, yeast dough, artificial sweeteners, macadamia nuts, avocadoes, alcohol, or coffee.

WrestleMania

Always ready to rumble!

When my two sons were younger they were fans of Atlanta-based WCW (World Championship Wrestling) featuring the likes of Hulk Hogan, Diamond Dallas Page and Randy Savage. Little did they know that all these years later, episodes of WrestleMania would be taking place live at our house every day.

Two Germans, Shepherds, that is, are the featured attractions here: "Panzer Man" and "Vega Mama." They wrestle whenever the spirit moves them in whatever place they happen to be -- hallway, kitchen, office, backyard, it really doesn't matter. They are always ready to rumble.

In canine wrestling, there is no ring, no bell, no referee and naturally, NO RULES! The two of them go head to head, jaw to neck and teeth to legs with plenty of growling and gnashing of teeth. Often, one or the other gets slammed against a wall or pinned to the ground. Neither are ever down for the count. It's always a wild, raucous, loud event. But never brutal.

After all, just like professional wrestling, this WrestleMania is not a true sporting contest, simply pure entertainment.

Muffin Man



 

The scene of the crime was recreated.

I wouldn't call myself a baker, but this summer I have whipped up a couple of batches of muffins. My guests and I are not the only ones who ones who've enjoyed them.

 

The dogs weren't offered any, of course. But Reacher decided to help himself. To both batches.

 

If you read the recent "Home Alone" blog, I am proud to report that Reacher continues to be on his best behavior when I'm not around. It's while I'm in the house that he gets into trouble. 

 

Both cases of muffin snatching happened while I was only rooms away. And both times, the bags of muffins were far back on the kitchen counter where I assumed they were safe.

 

After the first incident, I wisely placed the ziplock bag of leftover muffins in the pantry. My big mistake was failing to put them back behind closed doors after enjoying one -- or two -- at breakfast. Instead, I slid them to the rear of the counter and went about my morning routine. 

 

Apparently, that was the opening Reacher was waiting for. I didn't see him devouring his bag of loot as I walked back down the steps. But when he heard me coming, he quickly left the crime scene and peaked around the corner. His guilty face told me all I needed to know.

 

Reacher didn't have time to finish all the muffins. He did have time to create lots of crumbs and leave plenty of his Boxer slobber. I won't be eating any more.

 

I learned two things from this latest incident: Food left on the kitchen counter closest to the backsplash is still only a paw's reach away. And the name Reacher is quite fitting for this muffin man.





Squatter's Rights

A Boxer friend with a tentative left rear hike.

Reacher's a squatter. Meaning that's the way he prefers to pee. Until recently that's been the only way he urinates.

According to veterinarians, adult male dogs who would rather squat rather than lift a leg is fairly common. The experts say hiking the back leg is a learned behavior and may just be a better way for the male dog to mark his territory. It also allows him to spray higher and thus appear bigger to those four-legged passersby who may take a sniff.

But back to Reacher. A couple of  months ago, out of the blue, he paused at a tree trunk and took a hike! It was only a leg lift. No spray. Frankly, he seemed confused by the whole thing.

Since then he occasionally lifts a leg. Or at least tries to. Sometimes he ends up slightly off balance. Other times there's a small hop, skip and a jump involved in an attempt to steady his tripod stance. Whether or not there's any output is another question. 

Occasionally though, everything goes smoothly. Pause, lift a leg, pee and resume walking.

Maybe Reacher will get the hang of it eventually. To paraphrase an old adage, "peeing practice makes perfect."

Oh Deer

The first time I saw deer wandering by the window I was thrilled. Wow! Wildlife in my own backyard! Then I realized my pansies had been deflowered, the hostas chewed down to nubs and other assorted plantings pruned beyond repair. The thrill was gone.

And now that the neighborhood deer are driving my dogs to distraction I like them even less.

Before the fence, the deer would give a flick of their white tails and bound away whenever I walked Vega on the leash. They weren’t taking any chances. For all they knew that large, lunging, barking-her-fool-head-off German Shepherd might soon be in hot pursuit.

They are no longer worried.

That's because the same large, lunging, barking-her-fool-head-off German Shepherd is stuck behind a five-foot fence and is no threat at all. Ditto for Panzer, a younger, crazier version of his German Shepherd mother.

In fact, the deer are so sure of their safety, they seem to be inching closer to the fence - and the dogs - every day. Which just ratchets up the dogs' already out-of-control behavior.

The deer seem to actually enjoy this wildlife game. They might as well be chanting, "Nanny-nanny-boo-boo, you can't get us."

While deer aren't among the world's smartest animals, they definitely know how to yank these dogs' chain.

 

Home Alone

Sweet Reacher 

July 17, 2013 was the last time I allowed Reacher to roam free when I left the house. He ate a shoe. I was not happy. And I'm sure he was not happy either. Because it led to solitary confinement in his crate each time I've walked out the door since then.

But as they say, time heals all wounds--even if it doesn't restore shoes. So I'm giving give him another chance.

Why has Reacher been tapped for this summer experiment 2014? 

He still counter surfs when I leave the kitchen. And just the other day he helped himself to my half-eaten banana when my back was barely turned. He's not a likely candidate.

The truth is, I feel sorry for my Boxer boy. Ever since Panzer matured he regularly terrorizes Reacher, demonstrating that German Shepherds are bigger and badder than Boxers any day.

Reacher has taken the high road. He never fights back. He just accepts his position at the bottom of my three-dog heap.

That's why I decided to give the guy a confidence boost. Lately, he's the one dog who gets the run of the house whether I'm here or not. So far, he's made me proud. No shredded papers. No unstuffed pillows. No chewed up shoes. Just that sweet Boxer face looking up at me every time I walk back in the door.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

The title pretty much describes my backyard situation. I recently had a four-rail ranch style fence installed to corral my three dogs.

THE GOOD thing about the fence is that I no longer have to use the leash when any of the dogs need to tend to business. That means no more traipsing around the yard in the dark hoping to avoid tripping on a fallen branch or stumbling into one of Reacher's holes. And on those cold, rainy or snowy days I get to stay warm and dry inside while I let the dogs outside all by themselves. Just being able to open the door is a real time-saver. I do my thing in the house while Vega, Reacher and Panzer do their thing in the yard.

THE BAD part about the fence really is about my dogs' behavior while they're confined by it. While I had visions of them running happily around outside thus saving wear and tear indoors, sadly that's not the case. Panzer has appointed himself "yard boss." That is to say, he's prone to attack Reacher and even Vega if they're not behaving the way he would like--whatever way that is. That means the dogs mostly have to enjoy the yard one by one in order to avoid any fights. And that means outside time is more of a relay than a romp.

THE UGLY thing about having a fenced yard is the mud and the dirt that goes along

The number of towels it takes to clean 12 muddy paws.

with it. I like to describe my yard as park-like which is just a nice way of saying that instead of grass there is pine straw, fallen leaves and mulch covering the ground. That's in addition to several dirt paths worn down by the dogs. And you know what happens when dirt gets wet. It turns to mud. When it's raining outside, 12 clean paws wait to go out then 12 muddy paws want to come in. That's not a pretty picture.

Snow Dogs

Southern dogs, like their human counterparts, don't have much experience with snow. So they are fascinated when the flakes start to fall and cover the ground. Maybe it's that the outdoors has been transformed into a bright white tableau. Or maybe it's the extra nip in the air that revs up their energy level. Whatever the reason, Reacher, Vega and Panzer can't wait to get out the door and into the snow.

None of them seem to mind the cold, not even Reacher with his short coat. Maybe that's because his blood starts pumping as he and his German Shepherd friends chase each other around the yard like three crazy canines.

Dogs don't build snowmen, of course. Or have snowball fights. But they do enjoy a good bout of snow wrestling.

And they seem to enjoy the taste of snow on their tongues. In fact, they eat big mouthfuls of the white stuff. It might as well be vanilla ice cream. They can't seem to get enough. Frozen pine cones and icy sweet gum balls are apparently two more gourmet delights that come along with a winter wonderland.

As for me, I'm happy to stay inside where it's warm and dry and watch the show.

 

Love You Best

Reacher,
You were the first of this current trio of dogs which puts you at the top of my list. You were the puppy I chose from among your eight brothers and sisters. You caught my attention because you were spunky, energetic and playful, all characteristics which intensified as you were growing up. Although you were a challenge beginning on our first day together, we've come to a meeting of the minds. You've grown into a typical clown of a Boxer. You love going on walks, running for no reason, digging holes, watching the world go by, playing with most any other canine, meeting new people. In short, you love life! And that's what I love best about you.

 
Vega,
You are my first German Shepherd, but the seventh dog in my life. And we all know seven is a lucky number. We've shared a lot in the not-quite two years we've been together. The most memorable event is the birth of your eight puppies. That was quite the experience - for both of us. Friends and family who come to the house, then and now, always comment on your sweet, calm nature. They haven't seen your "killer" side. There's no doubt that you've got my back. You like longs walks, chasing balls, chasing Reacher and  wrestling with Panzer. But you're just as content to lie at my feet. The two of us have developed a special bond. And that's what I love best about you. 

 

Panzer,
I was there, up close and personal, when you were born. And just about every day since. Like your brothers and sisters, you were very vocal from day one. And you got even louder as the weeks went by, squealing and barking in that shrill puppy voice whenever I entered the kennel area to feed or play with all eight of you. You were demanding then. And you are demanding today. Every day you like to remind all of us that you are the alpha male in this house. You are smart, athletic, loyal and full of energy, not to mention oh-so handsome. As my fellow breeder who owns your father likes to say, you are the total package! And that's what I love best about you. 

Lovely Mud

Atlanta has recently posted it's fifth rainiest year on record which might be why I'm feeling a bit like Mrs. Wishy-Washy. In case you're not familiar with this famous children's book character created by author Joy Cowley, let me explain.

Mrs. Wishy-Washy lives on a farm with three barnyard animals. The animals are known for getting dirty and Mrs. Wishy-Washy is known for her failed attempts at keeping them clean. The animals' favorite line is, "Lovely mud."

I don't live on a farm, but I do live on a wooded lot. What it lacks in grass it makes up for in dirt. Add all the rain I mentioned earlier and you've got mud. Got the picture?

Now, substitute three dogs for Mrs. Wishy-Washy's barnyard animals. It's more or less the  the story of my recent life.

Of course, a little rain doesn't deter Reacher, Vega and Panzer from a good romp around the yard. Even if I limit their outings, I'm bound to end up with 12 muddy paws every time. Picture those paws with mud clumped under the toenails and between the pads on their feet. I'm sure you agree, there's no way one dog, much less three, can be allowed back in the house in that condition.

So, like Mrs. Wishy-Washy, I get out a tub. Then dog by dog, I begin the clean-up process. Or to quote the book, "Wishy-washy, wishy-washy." More accurately, I dip each paw into the water, swish it around and wipe it dry with one of the towels I keep in a bucket near the back door. It's a time-consuming operation, but I feel good as I release each dog into the house.

"That's better," said Mrs. Wishy-Washy.

But sooner or later, all three have to go out again.

Away goes Reacher.

Away goes Vega.

Away goes Panzer.

"Oh, lovely mud," they said.

Welcome Home

I guess it's not really fair to compare what it must be like for the winning Super Bowl team to return home to a cheering crowd of fans and what it's like for me when I return to a frantic trio of dogs. But pandemonium is one thing I'm sure both scenes have in common.

There is a definite thrill in the air when I walk through the door. My welcoming committee is boisterous, excited and all atwitter for my attention. Twelve paws dance and prance while three bodies collide like bumper cars. Two tails go whacka-thwack-thwack and one little brown nub manages to wag Reacher's whole self.

My Boxer, along with Vega and Panzer, forget any kind of manners and jostle for position. Each one wants desperately to be the first to be graced with a pat on the head or a few scratches behind the ear. There's plenty of whining too, as if that will guarantee top dog position.

I encourage them to clear a path from the door to the kitchen. Instead, all three of them bounce around me like tennis balls on steroids. It's a rowdy crowd of animal love.

This is my home team and it's a winner.

The Nose Knows

At 3 a.m. this morning I heard Vega purr. Well, at least it was a sound that reminded me of purring, just not as friendly. Was she dreaming?

Apparently not. Because next, she walked to the window and let out a definite growl. As she worked on "Superman-staring" her way through the closed blinds, the serious barking began.

I pulled up the blinds to see what we might see. Since there was a full moon, I had no problem confirming there was no cat, raccoon, possum or other critter, and fortunately no strange human being, in the yard. But Vega would not give up. I scanned further. That's when I finally spotted two deer in the neighbor's front yard. To a German Shepherd, that is definitely something worth barking about.

Okay. Deer. I got it.

But what I didn't get was how did Vega know there were deer out there? She was sleeping. She wasn't lying next to the window. And no matter what, it was impossible to see out with the blinds down and closed tight.

At a more reasonable hour, I did a little research about a dog's senses. It seems Vega's nose was likely the sense at work. The scent of the deer actually woke her up and triggered her prey drive which set off her fierce barking. Really.

Here's what I learned: The average dog's nose is tens of thousands of times as sensitive to odors as yours or mine. That's because they possess up to 300 million olfactory receptors in their noses, while we only have about six million. Plus the part of a dog's brain that is devoted to analyzing smells is 40 times greater than ours.

One dog scientist describes it like this -- a dog's sense of smell is so acute it's like having the ability to catch a whiff of one rotten apple in two million barrels.

So, 3 a.m. this morning. Lights off, windows shut, blinds drawn. Vega smells deer. If you're a dog, the nose knows.

To Fence Or Not To Fence?

I've been debating whether or not to fence the yard. Truth is, I have a fence already, but it's invisible. That is to say the Invisible Fence, described in promotional materials as an electronic pet containment system.

In my opinion, it has lots of advantages over traditional fences. For one, the dog has the run of the entire yard, front and back. There's no unsightly boundary between properties. And since I live in a wooded area, an Invisible Fence preserves the look of wide open spaces. It's also less expensive, lower maintenance and longer lasting than the visible variety.

As for my Invisible Fence, I can attest to its effectiveness - at least for the three Boxers I've owned. The first two boys learned quickly not to get too close to the property boundaries for fear of getting a correction - in other words, zapped! Of course, Reacher, being the problem puppy that he was, was more resistant to the rules.

For weeks, being zapped meant nothing to Reacher. It was totally worth it to chase a neighbor pedaling a bike down the street or a dog walker strolling past the house. But Reacher too, finally agreed to stay in the yard. In fact, he never crosses the line to chase a bike, a dog or any kind of wildlife including squirrels, cats or deer.

The question is, what would Vega do with the Invisible Fence?

Yes, she is much more compliant than Reacher, generally speaking. And I'm certain she would recognize the property lines after minimal training. But being the prey-driven canine that she is, would she respect the Invisible Fence when tempted by Bambi and company who wander the woods, yards and streets like any other neighbors?

And being super protective of home and family, how many people would suffer heart failure when she switched from her sweet self to killer mode, warning all passersby not to come a step closer to her domain? As for any other dogs that might venture onto the property, I'm certain Vega would consider them fair game. 

So, what to do?

If asked, I believe Reacher would say, "Don't fence me in."

But if I consider all the dog walkers, bike riders and joggers who pass the house on a regular basis, they would probably agree with poet Robert Frost who wrote, "Good fences make good neighbors."