Kym's Tale - Chapter Three - Pack Leader
Dogs are not humans, but they are uncanny readers of body language, and Kym was aware she had the upper hand. I was hesitant when I should have been decisive; weak when I should have been firm.
 She took a liking to my favourite chair and lay on it, growling when I approached. She objected when I went to hug Bob and barked madly when family visited. She hated people leaving the house and would actually obstruct the doorway!
She was still only part-grown; I could have easily regained control had I insisted.
What I should have done for her to see me as pack leader was to insist that everything in the house - her food, toys, bowl, bed - all belonged to me, not her. Toys should have been put away, and only brought out and played with when I said so. I should have held the bowl of food and fed her by hand for a while, sat in her bed whenever I wanted, and moved her from where she was lying as the whim took me. Defiance should have been met with a (fake) explosion of rage. In short, I should have been The Boss, Top Dog and She Who Must Be Obeyed.
She wasn't a bad-natured dog - just strong-willed. But her main problem was that she was lonely. And we didn't make time to take her to puppy classes to socialise her and get her used to other dogs (Mistake Number Three!), with the result that she tended to be aggressive with them. Rotties are renowned for not liking other dogs much, so starting classes with a pup is essential; Puppy is quickly taught that going for another dog is just not permitted, so she learns to ignore them.
Classes are also essential for teaching Sit, Stay, Leave (especially if they've got hold of a long-dead rabbit or the Sunday roast) and, most importantly, Walk to Heel and Do Not Pull My Arm From its Socket!
This last was brought home to us with a vengeance when my sister visited and we took Kym out for a walk. My sister asked if she could hold her, and I duly handed the lead over (Kym had a check chain on). Next thing, my sister was disappearing up a neighbour's garden path on the end of the lead as Kym took off after a cat at a great rate of knots, with Angela desperately yelling "Kym, Heel!" at the top of her voice.
Mum and I nearly died laughing.
But would we have been laughing if Kym had dragged Angela into the path of a lorry? I think not.
All dogs are stronger than you think, and Rotties were bred to pull small carts; the power in the chest and shoulders of merely a young Rott is immense, and even a strong man will have trouble controlling a full-grown one. They must be obedient.
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