Strolling along through the falling snow yesterday afternoon on my way home from the hardware store with a new snow shovel over my shoulder and a bag full of light bulbs in my other hand, I found myself being eyed suspiciously by a young German Shepherd who'd come out to supervise some work his owner was doing at the end of their driveway. When I'd approached to within a half a block of their yard, the dog bounded out into the middle of the sidewalk and stood there in an attitude that showed why German Shepherds are natural police dogs. His pose was distinctly cop-like. If he'd been a cartoon dog, he'd have stood on his hind legs, put his forepaws on his hips, and demanded to know, "And just where do you think you're going, bub?"
He had to settle for barking at me. The deep gruff no-nonsense bark of a dog who knows you belong in jail.
Didn't faze me. I like dogs, I especially like German Shepherds, there was still a lot of puppy in this dog, and he looked to me like he was putting on a show for the master. And I had a snow shovel.
The dog's owner, though, wasn't pleased with his nonsense and didn't want him scaring the neighbors. He ordered the dog back. The dog obeyed. Sort of. He retreated a few paces, circled his owner, accepted a pat on the head as a reward for his good behavior, and then walked right back out to where he'd been, barring my path, and warning me to back off and find another way home if I knew what was good for me.
I still wasn't impressed. The owner was right there, after all, and he seemed to have some control over his mutt. I kept walking. The dog kept barking.
"Get back here!" the owner yelled at the dog and this time reached out and took him by the collar and drew him back to a spot several paces up the driveway.
"Don't worry," the owner said as I walked by, "He's all mouth," which, considering that what's in a dog's mouth is the chief cause of worry, wasn't all that reassuring, but I said the dog wasn't bothering me, he was a handsome, sturdy fella, and I understood he was doing his job.
Then the dog started barking again and this time when he scolded him the owner called him by name and suddenly I felt some mild apprehension.
There are two things to avoid when you're naming a dog. One is giving him a name he thinks he has to live up to. The other is giving him one he has to live down. This dog had the first kind.
"CONAN!" the owner yelled. "Sit."
Somehow I don't think the dog was named after Conan the O'Brien.
If you pass that way often enough to get to know the dog, make a point of calling him "Connie".
Posted by: Mike Schilling | Saturday, December 08, 2007 at 11:09 AM
Dogs and dogs' names are often reflections of their owner's aspirations.
I don't like pets.
Posted by: May | Saturday, December 08, 2007 at 12:02 PM
Ouch, May. Since our fifteen-year-old Pointer is named Tigger, what's that say about our aspirations? Do we lean toward dance? ;)
Posted by: Linkmeister | Saturday, December 08, 2007 at 02:11 PM
It is a truism among the members of the trial bar that a dog bite case is exactly as defensible as the name of the dog allows. There are exceptions (ask me some time about Kyle the dog), but in general if a dog is named "Fluffy" defense counsel is home free.
Posted by: Bill Altreuter | Saturday, December 08, 2007 at 02:28 PM
Having named the dog "Conan", a quarter says the owner didn't get the dog neutered, either.
Posted by: JD | Saturday, December 08, 2007 at 03:55 PM
The best dog name I ever heard was courtesy of my wife, who once helped train German Shepherds her mom bred. There was a show they went to and one of the dogs was led through the ring by a very quiet-spoken man. Even the judge had to strain to hear him. Then my wife heard him say, Dammit, sit. Sit, Dammit. Now that's a name any dog owner can relate to... ;-)
Posted by: David W. | Saturday, December 08, 2007 at 08:23 PM
Tigger like the Pooh character? I guess that you are referring to someone else but the fact that I live in another continent makes it hard for me to understand the joke. Sorry.
Blogs' names tell a lot about the owner as well. Unfortunately I cannot make real examples for privacy reasons.
Posted by: May | Sunday, December 09, 2007 at 04:06 AM
My friends named their Belgian shepherd "Pantalaimon," because they loved the Pullman books that much. Like the fictional character, the dog is also "Pan" for short. Which led one of my friends to teach the dog to feign death with the command, "Dead, Pan."
Posted by: joanr16 | Sunday, December 09, 2007 at 10:55 AM
Yes, Tigger as in the Pooh stories. Because she bounces.
Posted by: Linkmeister | Sunday, December 09, 2007 at 03:15 PM
I have a friend who named her snake 'Fluffy'...
Posted by: Jim 7 | Sunday, December 09, 2007 at 03:38 PM
The two nastiest dogs I have recently known were both Rottweilers, one named Zeus and the other Tyson. Go figure.
Posted by: David | Monday, December 10, 2007 at 11:28 AM