My First Ever Electric Dog

My First Ever Electric Dog
August 11, 2009

Have you ever wanted something so badly that you became obsessed with getting it, then once you have it you wonder what on earth you were thinking?

So it was with "Taboo" our monstrously large, black, hairy dog. Here's what happened:

We had been having problems with prowlers, mostly the four legged kind harassing our livestock, but occasionally the two legged human kind emerged from the woods as well. Because of that, we decided we needed a "super dog" for protection. Hours of library and Internet research turned up several prospects, but at the top of the list came glowing reports of a breed called Bouvier Des Flanders. They were touted for their loyalty, agility, imposing physical stature, and above all else their amazing intelligence. What more could a person want?

After months of obsessively checking the Internet and various newspapers, we found a breeder advertising a litter of pups. Unfortunately when we called there was only one puppy that was not spoken for. The breeder rolled off all the excellent qualities of the breed, emphasizing their amazing intelligence. She gave me a deal-breaker sales pitch, so my husband and I made a three hour trip to meet our prospective new family member and guardian.

Never had I seen such an adorable puppy. She had big black round eyes that were completely encompassed in a massive ball of long black fur. She was loving and playful and took to us immediately. A few hours later the puppy, my husband and I were on the road back home in gleeful bliss. During the long trip we tried to come up with an appropriate name. Bouvier's are French so we wanted something French and feminine, yet bold. A name like "Fifi" wouldn't do for a guard dog. We eventually came up with "Taboo."

Now, I've had occasion to train several puppies, so I felt confident that I could teach her the basics. However, by the time she was four months old, she had only mastered "shake hands." The rest of the basics: Come, sit, stay, down, and heel were not in her vocabulary no matter how much I worked with her. She didn't seem to even recognize her name.

By the time this "incredibly intelligent and loyal" guardian was six months old, she had been to nearly every obedience school in northern California. Still, she had only mastered "shake hands." At one year of age she had been through three professional trainers and still had only mastered "shake hands." Her name was shortened to "Boo Boo" for obvious reasons.

By then she had also seen a battery of Veterinarians to be sure she didn't have any physical deformities such as eyesight or hearing problems. We were told she was healthy in every respect. Each of them said "It's a matter of training" and suggested yet another obedience school or top-notch professional trainer.

One day, a sheriff's deputy friend of ours who worked in the K-9 unit offered to take her for the weekend and run her through their trails and see what he could do with her. When he returned her on Sunday evening he said she had won the "Miss Congeniality" award, but he couldn't do anything with her so far as getting her to understand the basic heel and sit commands. He mentioned that she shook hands beautifully.

Eventually our neighbors started complaining because she barked constantly when we let her out. The complaints were legitimate. Being a big dog, she had a bark that vibrated windows nearly half a mile away. She barked at birds, swaying tree branches, falling leaves and the wind. She barked and she barked.

Ahh, to this point I don't believe I have mentioned that she was afraid of being alone and also of the dark. We had to leave nightlights on in every room of our home to keep her from howling. Our puppy had grown into a very large sissy dog. She possessed none of the attributes of a watch dog. We were hopelessly in love with her, but at the same time she was making us crazy.

One day one of her veterinarians suggested we try an electric shock collar. It took some convincing, but it did seem to be the logical, and perhaps final step in attempting to train her. Graciously he offered to loan us one that he had used to train his hunting dogs.

Both my husband and I read the instructions carefully. My husband even allowed himself to be jolted just to verify that it wouldn't cause "Boo Boo" any unnecessary discomfort. Satisfied, we placed the collar around her neck and let her outside. She immediately ran around barking at "no-seeums."

Now this is the way it was supposed to go. According to directions we were to hide out of her sight. Each time she barked unnecessarily one of us was to firmly shout "NO!" and if she continued to bark we were supposed to hit the button on the remote and give her a short zap. In theory, she would be taken by surprise and eventually associate the shout with the zap and stop barking before we pressed the button.

She barked, I shouted, she barked, I zapped, she yipped. So far so good. Again, she barked, I shouted, she barked, I zapped, she yipped. So it went for nearly twenty minutes, after which she began to make a vague connection and her barking grew less and less frequent. A couple of times just shouting "NO!" silenced her, and the zap was not necessary. Ahh, we were making great progress! So we decided to leave her outside and end the lesson for the day. I set the remote down and moved on to other things.

Suddenly I heard her yip, there was a pause then another yip. "Hey what are you doing" I yelled to my husband who was in another room "She wasn't barking!" To my surprise he hadn't been using the remote, it was lying by itself where I had left it. We both peered out the window at "Boo Boo" to our amazement every few minutes she would take a few steps, yip then shake her head. My husband grabbed the remote and opened it thinking it must be malfunctioning. Meanwhile I crazily called the vet to ask if it was possible to over-do it and cause permanent brain damage or something.

Using his best bedside manner and very obviously trying not to laugh, he assured me that the minimal jolt would not cause any brain damage, permanent or otherwise. He said he had never had a problem with the unit, but to bring both the dog and the unit in and he'd take a look at them (how patronizing.)

Strangely, even after the batteries were taken out of the hand held remote, "Boo Boo" still gave frequent yips and shook her head." I was convinced that I had caused what little brains she had to begin with to be forever scrambled.

As I was clipping "Boo Boo's" leash on to take her to the vet my neighbor drove into our driveway and yelled "Thank god you are home, Frank got a new TV and he's making me nuts flipping through all 269 channels. I had to get out of the house."

Suddenly my husband was laughing and said "Wait...Frank just got a new TV?" I glared at him...just like a man to be thinking of new toys when our dog was brain damaged! Before I could admonish him for his lack of compassion he said "I think I know what's going on. Put the shock collar back on "Boo Boo" and get Frank on the phone. Have him tell us each time he switches channels, I think maybe the collar is on the same frequency as Frank's remote"

Sure enough, that was the problem. Each time Frank hit his remote button to switch channels it not only sent a signal to his new TV, but to "Boo Boo's" collar as well. A quick adjustment of the frequency and the problem was solved, but I never had the heart to use the collar again. I returned it to the vet that same day.

In spite of that, for the next thirteen years of her life, she barked, I yelled "NO!" she yipped, shook her head and grew silent. Great training job Frank!

She was a great dog. She was not, however a great watch dog, or even a mediocre one. We continued to be plagued by prowlers which she greeted with a hand shake. She never won any scholastic awards, but she was by far the most loving dog we have ever had the privilege of sharing our home with.

By the way, in case you are wondering, at the end of her life she had learned only two commands "Shake hands" and "No"... My incredible lovable First Ever Electric Dog!