Dealing with a dog whose bark is much worse than her bite
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A dog whisperer I am not. What I really am is the sometimes not so proud owner of a yappy schnoodle—a poodle and schnauzer cross.
In my attempts to get her to stop barking, I’ve tried almost everything, from online recommendations to televison dog whisperer Caesar Milan’s tips.
Nothing works.
On occasion, I think to myself, “The person who thought of this breed should be hung by the toes.”
Don’t get me wrong, Chloe is as cute as a button, which was certainly a selling point for us and probably a big reason why her breed was created.
She’s loyal to the family, loves the kids and is full of energy. She is healthy and happy.
I love her to death.
However, the barking can get downright embarrassing at times, especially when the chain of barks nearly transforms into a high-pitched howl. I cringe.
It happens every time the door bell rings, or, when she’s outside and someone passes on the street in front of our yard. The sound goes on ad nauseam. Even up to a half an hour later, the occasional, muffled “woof” escapes her muzzle because she hasn’t settled down quite yet.
She absolutely must be heard. Maybe it’s attention-getting, anxiety or just plain old small dog syndrome.
I have done everything short of using a shock collar or surgery to muffle her bark. I cannot bring myself to do either.
I have tried pennies in a tin can, which I read about on the Internet. The technique was supposed to distract her when someone came by, so she’d focus on the rattling can instead of rattling my nerves.
Try holding a conversation with someone at the door though, while shaking a can full of pennies. People thought I was nuts, I’m sure of it.
I have tried a citronella-scented spray collar. It warded off mosquitoes just great.
The spray also hit me too, more than once, when I was holding her and the doorbell suddenly rang.
Try explaining to someone why you smell strongly of citrus and it isn’t even bug season.
The collar muted the barking for a while. After a while, however, I think she just thought, “To heck with this, I am loud and proud of it.”
Lately, I have resorted to a bite like grab using my fingers, targeted strategically near her rib cage. I simultaneously use a sharp “psst” sound.
I feel like a snake.
One time, I accidentally grabbed too hard, and she yelped. Then I felt like a mean snake.
This Milan technique works so well on Dog Whisperer on the National Geographic channel. Why doesn’t it work for me?
I’ve lengthened her walks to try to wear her out more, so she’ll be less interested in barking.
In addition to longer walks, I’ve added more of what Milan calls, “challenge.”
In essence, those are the times when I throw the ball in the yard or hide a rawhide bone for her to seek out and then chew into oblivion.
The barking persists.
So, while I am not a dog whisperer, there are certainly times I whisper things about my dog under my breath.
I guess it’s time to seek professional help––for me, not the dog.
Jason Luciw is the Capital News West Kelonwa reporter.
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