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Shiloh
Shepherd Times, MAY 2006 |
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sire: Shiloh's Secret Samson-Woo |
Goliath came to live with Marc and I at Highlander Shepherds Kennel as a re-home in 1997. He came with quite a reputation, not all good. He was known to have an aggressive nature, also a “Houdini” of sorts, a very macho “ladies” man and an icon for the Shiloh Shepherd breed. What were we thinking? I met Goliath while attending a training class. I saw this white dog in a kennel run and asked who he was. Then asked why he was there. When told that his owner could not keep Goliath any longer and he was destined to be “put down” – my mind went into “high” gear. How bad was he, really?? All I could remember was the stories I use to hear about him being so over protective of his owner and was unapproachable and he could not be kept in a kennel as he would find a way of escaping and he was dog aggressive. But at the same time, I knew he meant so much to the Shiloh world. He was one of the first original Shilohs. He had brawn, brains and beauty – well very handsome. How could anyone just let him go? So, before making a hasty decision, I had to approach Marc about Goliath’s predicament. Then of course Marc had to see him for himself. Next question, how “bad” was this “bad” boy anyway. Well, Goliath was very cordial. I could walk him around without a lead. All I had to do was lightly hold his collar and he went wherever I went. He obeyed every command I gave. Couldn’t be the same dog that we had heard so much about! Oh, by the way, he was the same way with Marc, just so you understand that it wasn’t just the “woman’s touch”. Goliath settled in very nicely. We never saw his aggressive nature, I really don’t think he had one and, of course, we didn’t expect him to show it anyway. He did manage to escape our fenced in yard once and went racing down the middle of the road to our distant neighbors – that was such fun (NOT) and a story all of it’s own. Thank goodness we live in the country and there was no traffic at that particular point in time. Marc went after him, finally got him in the truck and the two of them had a “bit” of a talk. Goliath never did that again. One day, not long after he arrived, he was loose in the backyard and we had a stranger approach our backyard to speak to us over the fence. Goliath just watched from about 50 feet away. He just stood there calmly and of course Marc is at the fence and I am on the back deck watching, not knowing what was really going to take place. Goliath would glance at me every once in a while and then look back at the stranger. And this stranger was well aware of Goliath’s presence because he kept glancing over at him also. The conversation ended and the stranger went on his way and Goliath casually came up on the deck for his well earned “good boy” and pat on the head. He reacted just the way I wanted him to react. He was watchful and intimidating without being aggressive and obnoxious. Some years later we met Goliath’s trainer and learned about Goliath’s extensive training experience. Also realized that his former owner missused those training skills. He thought it was a “fun” thing to have Goliath “perform” and scare people. Not us! We just loved the dog! Goliath was always a “perfect gentleman”! Children could visit us and he was ever so gentle and kind with them, would even let them in his crate with him in it and always had gentle kisses for them. He was always socialable with our other dogs. Kind to puppies and yes, just loved the “girls” when they were in heat. He never misbehaved in any way. We just allowed him to be himself. We accepted him and he accepted us – there was always a mutual respect. I truly believe that is all he ever really wanted. He and Goldie became good friends and they shared yard time together. He was a TRUE Shiloh and we were always thankful that we had the opportunity to share part of his life. He did live a good and peaceful life here! We always regretted not being able to produce a Goliath son. Not that we didn’t try. Inspite of his reputation, he didn’t always like the “girls” we picked for him, he always seemed to want the ones that were not compatible. He and his littermates are in many pedigrees. A few of his progeny were: Freestates Storm of Zion, NsabCH Moriah’s O Daughter of Zion, bChPTD Goliath’s Steel Sword of Zion. |
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sire: GV Bionic Black Smoke of Zion |
Where to begin on my old gal? I acquired Mya and her littermate when they were 9 months old. The way they had been raised thus far was not what I would call optimum. Mya grabbed my heart from the get go and I promised her she would always be my special girl. |
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sire: bCH CJ’s Lobo’s Legacy Tobias CGC |
Jaeger, our first Shiloh Shepherd, and the impetus for our ever-expanding family came to us, as a pet from Judy Vaneman at CJ’s.
As Jaeger neared a year old, we decided to take a ride out to Punxsy, just to see what the other Shiloh’s looked like. After we arrived, and located the Shiloh’s, I was handed a lead and a number and was told by Judy to get my dog into the ring. We were hooked. Jaeger did very well that day, despite his handler, earning two BIS Senior Puppies and his Show Career was launched. By September 2004, Jaeger had been awarded his NSBR and NKC Championships and had earned his CGC and TDI Certifications as well. In May 2005 after a successful Show Season, Jaeger was named an NSBR Top Dog for 2004. We are now working on obtaining his Rarities International Championships. Despite his reputation as a “Show Dog”, Jaeger most enjoys being home with his family and his two brothers, Tarran and Galen. He is an active participant in the Local Library’s READ Program and works with Special Needs Children. Jaeger is now relishing the role of fatherhood after his first litter, with Timber was born on April 25th. Had Jaeger never set foot in the Show Ring, he would still be our Pride and Joy as well as our protector. He has a fun loving personality and is as at home rolling in the dirt as he is in the ring. Thank you Judy Vaneman for the gift of a lifetime. |
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sire: Garrison Von Archezengel
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NEW ORLEANS – OCTOBER 2005 by Ben the BoyDog My human doesn't talk much; doesn't provide the level of hoot and blather that most dogs have to endure, suffering with excessive man sounds that just become background noise to a dog. He is an older model of human and has seen enough in his years to harden him to life's misfortunes and sundry ugliness. So when I saw the tears on his face as we made our way into New Orleans the first time I knew this would be different, very different. The funny thing is he doesn't think I notice such things as blatant crying; actually forgets that I pay way more attention to him and his actions and reactions than he could ever possibly pay to mine; forgets that he is always my primary focus, that I do not have a lot of other things to contend with by way of distractions. Am not concerned with history, esthetics, kinships, tragedies, finances and social ramifications that cloud and affect my human. I am after all a working dog and have been engineered and trained to perform tasks for my human and other than playing and eating that's pretty much it. There were several worsts, all near about tied for first place in the worst category so I'll just begin with the mud. Not your everyday sort of creek bank splash through it sort of mud, but some sort of contaminated gumbo mixture that took the joy out of mud. It covered a good 50% of the area and 100% of the buildings' interiors. Slippery, stinking, deep and clinging with some chemical components that inflamed the webbing between my pads. This led to multiple foot washings during every morning and every afternoon and twice daily decontamination baths; not my favorite thing. Also resulted in a brief failed experiment with booties; not a good idea when there are so many jumps to be made in and around the roof tops and debris piles. Those same piles of former houses, cars, trees, buildings, equipment, furniture, light poles, and so on proved to be a problem for my human. He found the similarity and repetition combined with their sight blocking height to be disorienting and caused him to be hesitant about which directions to move. This from a man whose only fear of ever being lost is on the open seas. Took almost a week for him to finally be comfortable with his bearings. Then there was the problem with my temperature, fever actually, that began on our fifth day. Just a slight bit over normal in the afternoon our vet tech informed my human. “Probably just the combined result of long work days coupled with heat index numbers in the 90's,” she said. "We'll just keep an eye on it," she told us. What she didn't mention was her obsession with an anal thermometer; even gave one to my human so he could offend me in the evenings also. But in spite of some extra rest and time in the truck's A/C and water douses during the day the fever kept gradually rising. Each morning it would be returned to normal and by mid-afternoon would be slightly higher than the previous day. This kept on until my human took me out of service on the afternoon of the 11th day. The vet exams in N.O. and back home in Texas found no clinical problems, and I was happily chasing my sisters in the even hotter weather at home within two days. Then there were some well intentioned interlopers that slipped by the National Guard checkpoints and caused my human to get all hostile and frothy when they showed their beaming faces through the kicked-in doors while we were working. He ended up actually chasing the two Scientology "counselors" back to their sunshine yellow vehicle in their matching yellow shirts while proclaiming his intention to insert his walking stick, a hickory ax handle really, into an orifice that was intended for egression only. Then proceeded to get into an argument with the touring chaplains about how his immortal soul had just about all it could handle right now and could they please go and bother someone who had a little less on their plate. And we wouldn't want to leave without mention of the former residents who would slip back in only to come up on us with a list of who was gone and where we'd best go to find them. This is just the sort of thing to guarantee a spirited rejoinder from my human and cause me to want to find a place to hide. He can be so embarrassing. Finally, there were all the heavy scents. Heaven help any dog that tries this work without having done serious training with negatives, and if you ain't done the negative work, stay home. The rotted food smells were nearly everywhere with the scent seeping out of the broken freezers and refrigerators that seemed to be everywhere we went, and indoors this smell coupled with the toxic mud and advancing mildew made things nearly overwhelming for humans. But dead animals were the biggest problem not only for being noxious to the humans but providing their pitiful noses with a smell that was similar enough to human tissue to lead them into all manner of extra work and fuss and bother thinking they could possibly have an alert when I did not. I mean really, to think a human could correct a dog that has my training and history of success is not only confusing, it is downright offensive. This process of silliness led to an extra layer of doubt and stress since I was now being asked to rework areas that I knew were clear thereby causing this dog to begin to think maybe I had missed something . At one point our team actually did find a point where the animal remains and human remains merged; found that dog and his man in an attic where the man had obviously pulled the dog up behind him in an attempt to save them both and they had died together - my kind of man. I am going to close with a few caveats for any dog thinking of joining us in our human remains work. The first is that disasters are different, and you have to be the right dog for this special situation. You need to be sure of your agility work and if you don't have some, get some or stay home. The risk of injury in this setting is very high, and a dog that is the least bit clumsy or heavy footed will get hurt or worse. Second, if you have a weakness for food and are willing to put any old thing in your mouth just to see if your enzymes might be able to process it, learn a "leave it" command or stay home. Third, make sure you're in shape with no extra weight and all joints are solid because I promise the hours and terrain will find your weakness. Fourth, make sure your human is up to the task; and this is more about mental toughness than physical because every distress that human absorbs will come down the leash to you. This is not the place to begin pondering how what you find came to be found and what it might mean to someone somewhere. Fifth, we already talked about negative, but it's worth repeating; just do the training and do it a lot. Finally, there is the issue of trust between dog and human. Here is what I know for sure: my human would die to protect me, and I would follow him into the mouth of Hell itself if he asked; he actually thinks being in N.O. early on may have put us there. We have worked and trained so much together that our trust is earned and cemented; two species that communicate without language. My human says that training a working dog to find things a man cannot see is like raising children, "Teach'em what ya got to teach'em when they're young then turn'em loose and trust'em." Ben, a three year old Shiloh OTX, is a proud member of Ja’Na Bickle's "Special K-9s" search and recovery team, and it has been his privilege to work beside her Catahoula, Belle, on each trip to N.O. Despite Ben's tender years he has a long and successful résumé including multiple finds on each of his visits to N.O. This is his story as told to his aging partner. Note: Ben's photos at work courtesy of Barb Sturner of FEMA |
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sire: GV brCH Zion’s A-Tribute to Snows Grizz ROM
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Our ‘special needs child’ has finally passed through some of his feisty teen-age years. And boy, are we glad. You see, our special needs child (SNC) is Cooper, a two and a half year-old Shiloh. We started—jokingly, mind you—calling him our SNC, after it quickly became quite clear to us that Cooper wasn’t quite like a ‘regular’ kid, but certainly wasn’t like any other dog (including German Shepherds) that we have had in our family, either.
Cooper hasn’t the foggiest idea that he is a canine. Oh, we’ve told him this plenty of times…but he never listens. He’s mellowed quite a bit in the past six months, but still thinks nothing of opening up the pantry door and getting himself a snack, or “telling us” (AKA howling) when it’s time to get out of bed in the morning, or when he needs to take us for a walk. We’ll be very glad when he learns the days of the week, since 5:45 AM is ‘get-up’ time, every day, inclusive of Saturday and Sunday. Cooper gets high marks for consistency. His AM procedure always starts with heavy breathing and staring at us, beside our bed; then shifts to ‘paws on the bed’, then—if the appropriate response isn’t forthcoming—the ‘on top of bed serenade’. We now think that he’s trying to howl to the tune of “Stella by Starlight”…not sure where he gets that tune, some Jazz documentary on PBS TV, maybe, or listening to KMHD. Knowing that socialization is quite important for all dogs (and he is a dog, we keep reminding ourselves), we take him to doggy daycare, at least once a week. He loves day-care, and always comes back bone-tired, from all the running and playing. Lately, the day-care guys have been saying that Cooper is body-checking some of the other dogs, and generally moving them around. Just a phase, the guys say. Actually, we think he’s been trying to unionize the daycare canine crew…organize everyone and demand more perks from the staff. We haven’t told the daycare guys this; let them find out on their own…. Yes, we love Cooper a ton, even more so now that he humors us by acting out some canine traits. He will now retrieve a thrown ball and bring it back; an improvement from the “you’ve got to be kidding” look that was his stock reply, previously. He comes when he’s called, instead of just standing there, with that saucy “why don’t you come here?” expression. Kids, what are you gonna do with them? Now, if we can only convince the IRS that Cooper deserves a tax deduction…. Ric & Lori Lamoureux |
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| Five shilohs will share the spotlight each month and tell their stories. Do you know of a Shiloh you wish to see spotlighted in future newsletters? Please send your nomination along with a brief descripton for consideration to the newsletter design team. | ||
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