Life with Howard Herbert has never been dull to say the least. It is so surprising to me now to have people stop me at the park or on the street to tell me what a great dog Howard is and so well-behaved, because he did not start out that way.
As a Border Collie mix, Howard is extremely bright and incredibly sharp. Border Collies are considered one of the smartest breed of dogs, along with Australian Shepherd, Poodle, Australian Cattle Dog, and German Shepherd. They are also remarkably athletic, energetic and driven. Border Collies are essentially bred to work the fields and herd the sheep.
Unfortunately, at the time of Howard’s arrival, we didn’t live on a vast acreage of land or have any sheep nearby to herd. Consequently, our Border Collie puppy was quite mischievous due to the lack of continual stimulation around our house. We hadn’t planned properly for this sharp fellow when my husband picked Howard up as an 8-week-old at the Pike’s Peak Humane Society. Jason simply wanted to surprise our family with a puppy for Christmas - but this was no ordinary puppy. This was a high-energy, overachieving, sharper-than-a-tack pup. No research went into acquiring this dog. He was just the cutest one at the Humane Society on Christmas Eve morning, donning a natural tuxedo with fine black fur, a white chest and additional sprinkles of white on his nose and on the tip of his tail with his paws resembling white socks, sliding down around his ankles. So cute!
Well, cuteness only lasted so long in our family of four, with two small girls! After about a day or two, the cuteness wore off and the real character of Howard surfaced. He needed stimulation and activity. However, since we didn’t have a specific job for Howard, he, of course, needed to make his own - corralling our little girls when they were disorderly in the house which was most of the time being 4 and 7 years old. Howard also put himself in charge of herding deer who leisurely wandered into our Colorado backyard, as well as interrogating skunk who sauntered into our yard at dusk. Subsequently, one job Howard stubbornly refused to do was get into the bathtub after being sprayed. Baths are still one job Howard spurns to this day, but he will full-on attack the sprinklers at the park or in our backyard because the water is clearly out of line.
Frankly, it was basically two years of utter chaos. Howard corralled my girls so much and persistently nipped at their fannies and ankles that they had holes in all their little leggings and socks. He massacred pounds of stuffing from his doggy beds, and I emphasize plural - beds - because we went through so many of them, and then, there was the never-ending destruction of play toys. Thankfully, the one thing going for Howard was that he was house-trained within 5 days. So at least I didn’t have to wipe up puddles in addition to all the stuffing and mangled stuffed animal body parts.
Howard, on many occasions when Jason was out of town, would bolt out the front door at night, seeking adventure who knows where in the neighborhood. And there I would be, all by myself with my girls all tucked in bed, with the front door open, praying that Howard would have the common sense to eventually come home. After about a half hour, I would see a black figure in the dark up on the front hill with a carcass of some sort being tossed in the air. Howard would return home proudly flinging a prize that he had acquired from a neighbor’s garbage. I would dash outside in my PJ’s, trying to entice Howard inside with treats, and aimlessly grasp at the chicken carcass, hoping that he would not swallow any bones.
All these antics continued for two years, and predominantly when Howard knew I was most vulnerable - when Jason was out of town. One weekend, I had just about had it, so I cajoled Howard with small pieces of hot dog into the back of our Ford Expedition and I dropped him off at our local dog boarders for the reminder of the weekend. The facility was a dark warehouse with concrete floors, chained-linked fences between each stall and constant barking and howling from the other dogs. I felt terrible, but I was about to lose my mind with this mischievious critter. To alleviate my guilt for locking Howard up, I came every day to the boarder to take him on a walk outside around the facility. I can’t even imagine doing that to my fella today, as I write this, while he slumbers next to me on his back with his pink belly fully exposed. At the time, however, Howard was just full-on crazy and I was clearly desperate!
I wish I could reveal a magic potion or a superior training method that transformed Howard Herbert into the obedient, loyal dog that he is today, but unfortunately, I cannot. It simply was consistency over time, extreme patience and the willingness to stick it out with him, believing that there was truly a “Good Boy” inside of him. Day in and day out with training treats in my fanny pack, I would work with him on walks and in the backyard. I also discovered the Chuck-It from other dog owners at the park. This amazing contraption flings a ball hundreds of feet away, which allows my little fella to get his wiggles out by running extreme distances to retrieve the ball, resulting in an exhausted pup barely able to carry his ball home. Yay! Mission accomplished!
As a result of being so consistent and structured with Howard about our daily park trips, a black, wet nose greets me every morning at 5:30am directly in my face on my mattress with a tail thumping the desk next to my bed, reminding me that it’s time to take a trip to the park and play ball. But after a walk, a solid 30 minutes at the park playing ball and a belly full of fresh food, Howard is out of commission for the rest of the morning, stretched out on my bed. And the only bolting out the door these day is Howard greeting me when I have been out for the day and he follows me faithfully back into the house with no hiatus in between romping through neighbor’s garbage cans.
With time, consistency and patience on my part (and endless bags of training treats) and maturity on his part, Howard has settled into our family. Today when I receive praises for having such a “Good Boy,” I am reminded that love, patience, and commitment can manifest transformations in all relationships: with our friends, with our spouses, with our children, with our co-workers, with ourselves, and even with our four-legged energetic, out-of-control furry friends. We all need a little love, patience, commitment and consistency over time to become who we want to be with a few little “treats” along the way with a “Atta’ Girl” or “Atta’ Boy”, as we work out our wiggles and become the “Good Boy” or “Good Girl” we have always had the potential to be. My Howard Herbert is living proof!!
Hims a scoobert.