My Wonderful Doberman Pinscher, Babe

by James
(USA)

My dog Babe was a registered Doberman Pinscher who came to me at four months of age because her owners couldn't seem to mesh with her. I felt sorry for the girls, but I felt worse for Babe, because she was obviously intelligent, very sight oriented (as all Dobies are), and just needed more attention than they were able to give her.

Their complaints were common; she destroyed stuff while they were at work, didn't “listen”, didn't want to walk on the leash without dragging arms out of sockets.

I think one of her biggest obstacles was her good looks. She was liver and tan, and had the prettiest golden-brown eyes I've seen on a Doberman. People went nuts about her, and it was hard to keep her focused with all of the attention she would get.

The very first hour she was with me, I took her for a jog around the park on a short leash. I don't think she had ever moved on a leash at that speed, and she took to it right away. The playfulness just disappeared and she focused right in on maintaining the pace right beside me. My long stride meant she was at a perfect lope, and she could keep up with no problems.






After about half of a mile, I slowed it down to a walk and she complied, again keeping pace right beside me. She wasn't dragging the leash, or bolting out, or even reacting to the other people and dogs in the area. For a sixteen week old puppy, I thought that was pretty amazing concentration.

It had lasting results. She caught on to easy commands in a day or two, and moved on to silent hand signals within two weeks. We played a game with three flags in the yard spaced out about twenty feet apart. I would throw a ball at flag one, and she would retreive it.

Then I would throw it at flag two, she would retrieve, and it would go out to flag three. After repeating the sequence three or four times, she would retrieve the ball, drop it at my feet, and turn and run for the next flag before I threw the ball.

I began associating different whistle frequencies with each flag, and before long we didn't need the ball; she would run to the flag at the sound of the whistle. I had a straight-legged barstool in the kitchen, and she would like to jump up and sit there while I was working at the counter. The top was only a foot in diameter, but she would quietly sit up there and survey all that was going on.

I had to keep coming up with new games for her, and it was a pleasure to work with her. A little of the right attention went a long way with Babe, and I had her for nine very pleasant years.