My Llewellyn is, as far as I can determine, a muttly mix of collie, beagle, and pointer. When he's indoors, the shepherd side of him rules his doggie behaviour: He's continually trying to herd the cats. I can see a kitten up on the wrong surface in another room and chide, "Huw! Get down!" and Llewellyn is immediately off after that feline, to nip him into line.
Outside, however, his hunting dog heritage comes into play. Especially the pointer part. I'll have him out the back gate in the alley at 2:00 in the morning in the freezing cold to do his business. And suddenly, he'll pick up the scent of something. What is it? Rabbit? Raccoon? Skunk?
No matter. His body goes stiff and straight, his tail takes a rigid right-angle curve, his ears prick up, his eyes shoot laser-like straight ahead, and up comes his forepaw in a steady, determined point.
It's a beautiful point, a focussed, concentrated point. Trouble is, when he points, he doesn't poop. He can be hunkering down into his squat, ready to do what we came out in the alley for, when suddenly the message of the nose overrides all else. Poooiiiiinnnnttt!!!!
And there I am, out in the back alley in the middle of a brass-monkeys frigid night, and my dog is homed in on some hidden rabbit, raccoon, or skunk. "Business, Llewellyn, business!" I stage whisper (so not to disturb the neighbors). But he hears me not: he's Pointing. I try gently pulling him over to an old pooping place, to give him the idea. No: Soon as I let up the tension, he's reassumed the stance and is resolutely pointing again. The only way to get him out of it is forceably to jerk his leash.
But by then, all hope of his producing anything is dried up and gone. I can only take him in and pray he holds his biscuits till we go out again in the light of day.
Nice to have such a talented dog. Too bad it's a talent I have no use for.
3 comments:
If a bird or squirrel ever gets in your house, at least you will know by "the point" where it is! For the life of me I could never figure out why they have to go outside when it is a gazillion degrees below zero and then when they have you out there (usually in jammies), they won't do their business.
Read your earlier blog about training trouble with Llewellyn (hope I spelled it correctly). Watch Dog Whisperer on National Geographic. I've heard people criticize it because the trainer focuses on making people dominant over dogs. Well, heck, we don't want dogs peeing on our refrigerators.
I've become fascinated with the show, which now has a lot of reruns,even though I now have a cat instead of a dog. Last night I watched him break a Chesapeake Bay retriever of constant barking, and calm a seemingly vicious small dog. The dogs seemed ever so happier. Llewellyn and the cats are precious.
Sandy, re: the jammies-- that's why I'm glad I have a long winter coat!
Bebe-- Thanks for recognizing the extraordinary preciousness of my four-legged children (LOL at myself)! I don't have cable TV, but I imagine the DWh has a book I can check out at the library. Llewellyn is walking better on the leash lately, which is an advance.
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