Anatolians as LGDs and training problems

[Ridgetop]

Big tall man, loud, wearing a black cowboy hat, grabbed me in a hug. Sentry did all but attack him.

Sentry growled, barked and backed away. Buford looked at his hero and mentor. Sentry said this is a Bad Man. Buford went aggressive and bared his teeth at my son. So there he was, two Anatolians that had gone past unfriendly.

Erick was very precise on how we were to introduce new people to our Anatolians. Let the dogs see us being very calm and friendly with them first. Then bring them in to see the dogs. Important to let dogs determine that we are happy to see the newcomers. He emphasized that if we were not home these people would be welcome on the property. As all dog owners know, dogs behave differently when their owners are present.

I properly introduced the dogs to Chris, my friend. First, through the fence, Chris put the back of his hand up to, not through, the fence. Sentry and Sheba carefully sniffed his hand. Then Chris went in the pen with me while I fed them. They sniffed him, ate, but kept a watchful eye on him. Then he petted both of them, talking to them and setting them at ease.

Big difference in introductions mean difference in dogs' attitudes. Anatolians don't forget and even if properly introduced can later decide there is a threat. Erick had a fellow working for him that he had introduced the dogs to. The dogs allowed him on the property while he was working. A week later the man wanted an advance on his pay. He was a big guy, he picked up a hammer and became belligerent. Suddenly two Anatolians that had been sleeping on the other side of the area materialized at Erick's side. Low soft growls convinced the man to obey Erick's instructions to leave the property. A couple days later he came to apologize and ask for the job back. The Anatolians would not let him near and snarled constantly until he left. They had not forgotten the threat he had posed to Erick.

Even when properly introduced Anatolians can often sense when someone is not friendly or could be a threat. In Layne's case, the fact that he showed up and grabbed Sentry's goddess was enough to make him an enemy.

 

[Baymule]

In Layne's case, the fact that he showed up and grabbed Sentry's goddess was enough to make him an enemy.

And Sentry has never forgotten it.

 

[Ridgetop]

By now we had been suffering for six months. Our days consisted of kenneling the Weimaraners in the morning, switching dogs from kennels to house, kenneling Rika so the Weimaraners could run and get some exercise, kenneling them again, etc. At night the Weimies were crated. We were exhausted. Didi hid inside the doghouse when Rika walked by the kennel. When Didi was out and Rika was in the kennel, Didi detoured around the perimeter of the property to avoid coming anywhere close to Rika. To compound the problem, Didi, smaller and lighter than Ricky, began to escape from the locked kennel. We put netting over the top of the kennel where the dog house was. They liked to sit on top of it and look out over the previous domain, maybe they were jumping over the fence from there. Ricky kept busy tunneling out when he got hoarse from all the barking. We reinforced the bottom with railroad ties and paving stones. Now, along with our kennel shuffling, we had to fill in Ricky’s holes, and watch for Didi who would escape from the kennel and come to the house door. Ricky howled continuously in the kennel.

This was no longer a nightmare – there was no waking up - we were living in hell!

Just as we reached our breaking point, Didi escaped from the kennel once again. Folding laundry in the bedroom I watched as she appeared on the patio. Rika was lying on the patio. Too dulled by the past six months of misery to react, I readied myself for the attack. At this point, I felt I no longer cared what happened. If Didi was so stupid as to willingly leave the safety of her kennel, then Rika was welcome to teach her a lesson. Stoically I continued to fold and hang laundry. Rika got up slowly and approached Didi. Didi stood her ground humbly. Rika touched noses with her. The two turned and ran off together. Stunned I watched them go in disbelief. In the background I was dimly aware of Ricky’s continued howling and barking.

We seemed to have turned a corner in the relationship of the dogs. Occasionally Did would come in with a smaller bite wound but she and Harika had reached some understanding. Didi would show Harika complete deference and in return Harika would not kill her. Ricky was released from confinement and a blessed silence fell for the first time in months. We still kept an eye on Harika and Didi, especially in a confined space but life became bearable again.

By late spring Rika had been with us for about nine months. She was working well. We could tell because we could follow her progress around the property at night as she warned off predators. We knew she was not randomly barking because of the pattern. Predators follow a strict routine in their hunting territories. They have a set area that they hunt over, which may encompass several miles, moving through the territory in a pattern. This enables the game to recover and become less wily as they move from area to area. Rika’s pattern of barking coincided with normal predator territory patterns. We could hear her barking for several nights patrolling the property, then several nights of silence, then more nights of warnings. She was working well. We were pleased and thrilled. The time of disasters seemed remote.

One day, looking out the window of my room which overlooked the field I couldn’t see the sheep. Puzzled, I walked out to the gate. Suddenly Rika came out from behind the hayshed and very quietly walked over the rim of the gully and disappeared in it. After watching for a while, I saw movement behind the hay shed. The sheep were standing there watching the gully into which Rika had disappeared. This was odd because the sheep always congregated in front of the hayshed, not behind it. I looked in the gully and saw Rika patrolling very carefully. She was checking every clump of brush slowly. After she had completely covered the entire gully, she returned to the top and the sheep. She led her small flock out from behind the hayshed and back onto the hillside. Rika lay down above her charges where she had a good view of the sheep, the gully and the fence line. I realized I had only witnessed the second half of a behavior I had read about on Erick’s website. Rika sensed a threat in the gully. She had brought the sheep up from that perceived threat. She had parked them behind the hayshed where no predator could get to them, then returned into the gully to check out the danger. When she decided it was safe she brought them back from the “safe zone” to resume their grazing.

After 20 years of owning guardian dogs, I believe they are capable of incredible acts. Our first livestock guardian was a Shar Planinetz/Maremma cross who we got at 12 weeks. Within a week Maverick had chased the big Doberman owned by our neighbor back into his own yard when he tried to poop on our step! At 4 months old that pup displayed “play away” behavior against 2 larger strays that were too big for him to handle on his own. Later the full-grown guardian did not hesitate but simply drove off the threatening dogs. We saw the same guardian dog at six months old drive off a cougar, assisted by our aged Weimaraner bitch. All our other guardians have been Great Pyrenees. Our first Pyrenees, Sandy, would sneak up and burst out of the darkness into a pack of coyotes and scatter them in the night. I have watched in amazement as two Pyrs split up to guard goats, one staying with the herd while the other faced the intruder. Two different Pyrs would spend several days next to a pen of newborn kids and lambs until the smell of blood and afterbirth was gone. I had a Pyr bring a dead newborn lamb from the field to the back porch to me for help. None of this was taught behavior – it was all instinctual behavior. This Anatolian had just passed them in the dust with this new behavior. (Rika has used this herding behavior many times on sheep when bringing them to the barn at night, and also on us to get us to follow her to an injured ewe, and ewes that lambed in the gully.)

The two remaining ewes both had lambs, and we were discussing the repopulation of our flock since the weeds had grown up during their enforced barn stay. The weeds and brush were still manageable since we hadn’t had much rain over the winter, but climatologists and California natives knew that El Nino was on its way back. California is cyclical in its weather patterns. We had gone for about 14 years without any of our normal devastating winter long downpours. We were due for about seven years of rainy winters. When the rains finally came, three sheep would not be able to keep up with the growth that would follow. We needed to add a couple of ewes and now that we had a working guardian dog we could safely do so.

So far things were going well, but more problems were about to arise.

 

[Baymule]

Didi would show Harika complete deference and in return Harika would not kill her.

Hahahaha! I busted out laughing!

 

[Ridgetop]

At this point in the story, we come to a very bad episode. This shows that no matter how trustworthy you believe your other dogs are, they can turn at any moment. And like any kennel blind owner you will not believe it until witnessing it for yourself.

Our Dorsets were doing well, they were prodocing lambs every nine or ten months since they ran with the ram. They lambed easily, milked well, and were great moms. Having decided to repopulate our flock, I called the breeder of the original sheep with whom I had kept in touch. We drove up to Tracy in northern California and picked up three beautiful ewe lambs. Two were October born ewes which meant they would continue to breed out of season. The third was an afterthought, she was younger and the breeder gave us a deal.

Arriving home, we locked these new lambs into the barn to teach them where the grain was fed. After a few days we would turn them out into a smaller field. Joining our established flock, they would follow the other sheep into the barn at night where they would find hay and grain. In a few weeks they would run out to the field in the morning and be waiting at the gate at night. Easy-peasy.

After a week in the barn the new ewelings were turned out with the other two ewes in the smaller field. The ram was in the big field with Josie the mule. The older ewes with lambs at their sides went off together. The younger ewelings went their own way as well. Our guardian dog was on the job. God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world. Or not. Man proposes, God disposes – or possibly laughs.

That night our new ewelings did not come in with the older ewes as we had so blithely planned. Just like our first group, we had to go into the gully, round them up, and chase them into the barn. These were field sheep and not used to coming in at night for grain – we would have to teach them that golden nuggets of deliciousness waited in the big wooden building. This went on for a couple of weeks. Finally, they followed the older ewes and ram in at night. We could finally turn them out into the big field.

Two days later the entire flock went out into the big field in the morning. That night we were short one of the new ewelings. Possibly she had just decided to stay out without the others. Marv and our sons and daughter went looking. They finally found her. The eweling was in the bottom of the gully. She was dead. Rika was guarding the body. very agitated. There was no sign of any struggle with a predator and no marks on Rika to indicate that there had been any kind of fight. This ewe had been killed much earlier in the day. She was already bloated in the heat. We examined her for any clue as to what had killed her. Not a cougar, the cat would have carried her body away. The lack of tearing or ripping of the legs, flanks or belly seemed to rule out a dog attack. Possibly a coyote who had been chased off by Rika before feeding. There was a small dark blood pool under her head and neck. Four punctures in the throat must have been the killing bite. How had any predator gotten past Rika? Rika must have come after the kill, chased off the predator, and mounted guard over the dead sheep all afternoon.

Puzzled, we wondered if Rika couldn’t patrol the property alone. Since the new sheep were not staying with the old ones but keeping to themselves, Rika had to essentially guard two separate flocks at once. I called Erick who was at a loss too. No, he said, Rika was capable of guarding the entire property without help. It was terrifying – we had our guardian dog and just when we thought we were safe the invisible killer had returned.

We moved the sheep into the small pen. It was our original goat pen, only 100 x 100 situated next to our barn and surrounded on 3 sides by the rest of our fenced in property. Rika could patrol around it. For the next few days we felt secure. I went to bring the sheep in and saw one lying at the lower fence line of the upper pen. She wasn’t moving and was in an odd position. With a sense of foreboding, I watched as Rika nervously patrolled back and forth outside the fence. The lamb, the smallest of the new ewelings, was definitely dead but had not been for long. She was still slightly warm. The lamb had all four legs stuck through the chain link openings in the fence. I realized that when it died one of the legs must have been close enough to the chain link so Rika could get a grip. The lamb was on a hill sloping down into the fence. As Rika tried to pull the lamb to safety she had pulled all four legs through the chain link. She had been unable to protect the lamb. Rika acted downcast and guilty.

One entire hind leg had been eaten. As I pulled the lamb free of the fence and examined the carcass I found the same efficient kill bite to the throat. This lamb had bled out like the others. I couldn’t understand how the lamb had been killed. Surely by the time a predator had come over the fence and gotten all the way up the hillside, Rika would have spotted it and driven it off. Our coyotes are small. Judging by the damage she had inflicted on Didi she would have killed a coyote easily. As I turned to come up the hillside to the gate, the old milk shed caught my eye. Like a kaleidoscope, everything shifted into place. I knew who killed this lamb and the previous lamb. More importantly, I knew why Rika had not stopped the attack.

Just like the final chapter in a detective story when the hero reveals the murderer, so I too had received enlightenment. The milk shed held the answer. It is a block building 10’x20’ that overlooks the small field. The small field is where we housed our dairy goat herd when the boys were showing in 4-H. The shed has a long window opening into the field and we had built a feeder under this window. When we had dairy goats and sheep before we kept the hay in this building. All we had to do was drop the flakes of hay into the feeder for them. The shed had no door and was open to the barn and driveway. The only way a predator could have gotten into the pen to kill the little eweling was through the shed window. Who used that entrance as a short cut into the gully before we repaired the fence so the sheep could be kept there? Ricky and Didi.

I could not believe my first thoughts. Surely I was wrong. Ricky had been raised with the sheep for 3 years. He rarely showed any interest in them. He and Didi were house dogs, spending most of their time sleeping in the AC. But the sheep had not run from their killer. All the tracks showed that they had just stood there while the killer grabbed them by the throat.

The clues kept adding up. It must have been Ricky who did the killing although Didi might have helped. Ricky was the alpha male to Rika and was in his prime. She would not attack him. He had gone for her snarling just a week earlier and I had witnessed her back down to him. There was no doubt that he held the dominant male role for her. She would have killed or injured Didi without a qualm if Didi had been the attacker. I continued to think through the clues. The first kill, a 6 week old lamb that escaped from the barn on a Sunday morning, received two punctures through the skull. That was an obvious accident. The lamb died just as we returned from church. We immediately dressed it out to save the meat. The second was also a lamb, who disappeared during the night. That carcass was carried off by the predator. The dogs were kept inside at night so it was probable he had escaped from his pen in the barn and been taken by a coyote. The first adult ewe also disappeared at night. We didn't miss her until desiccated body parts turned up on the front patio several days later! Her rotting carcass was almost totally eaten. Our youngest daughter, whose job it was to bring in the sheep, had apparently had her mind fixed on a new boyfriend. She was bringing the sheep in after dark and didn't notice we were one ewe short. Probably on her cell phone with the boyfriend she didn't bother counting. The family was not kind in pointing out that it was difficult not to see one was missing when they came into the lighted barn at night. In the way of all older brothers everywhere, they pointed out that if she couldn’t count to 6 she shouldn’t be in high school. DD2 sulked. Her brothers (who had to carry the rotting carcass up the steep hillside) made unkind comments. DH and I glowered. Things were tense. We didn't have Rika yet, and were crating the dogs at night so those night kills couldn’t have been Ricky.

The final two kills while Rika was on watch were now explained. It made sense if the daytime kills were being made by Ricky. The ewe killed in the morning in the gully had obviously died before we had all left for work and locked up the Weimies. Rika did not stop Ricky because he was the dominant male. The final kill took place in an enclosed area that Rika did not know how to enter. Ricky frequently used the window to enter that area. The final proof came in the morning when I saw the mess in Ricky’s crate. Apparently, an entire haunch, consumed fresh from the carcass of his victim, was too much for his stomach. The stink of sheep in the manure pervaded the garage.

I could have gotten a conviction in any court in less than an hour with this final proof. Livestock killing is a death sentence in any farm area. I was willing to carry it out, but he wasn’t my dog. At least, not entirely. The breeder had given him to me as a twelve week old puppy since Didi had never worked out as a show dog. I had finally spayed her because I didn’t want to breed puppies with her timid disposition. Ricky was offered as a replacement because the breeder wanted to show him and finish his championship. His co-breeder needed him to finish so she could put it on her application for a judge’s license with the AKC. They still co-owned him on his papers. He was a finished champion and the breeder had started to take reservations for stud service. We had him for three years with the sheep before he started killing. That was one of the reasons I didn’t suspect him to start with.

I called Ricky’s breeder and told her she had to find another home for him. When I explained to Debby what had happened, she was horrified. Ricky went back into the kennel run with Didi for company until Debby found a new home. As he howled relentlessly, I considered shooting him then and there. At night he went into the crate in the garage. Debbie assured me she could place him immediately. I told her I would keep him for a month. Then he would visit the vet with the needle. It didn’t come to that. Ricky is now safely living in a city home. His new owner was warned not to let him off lead anywhere near livestock. Debby had breedings planned for him and offered me a puppy out of him. I have not been without a Weimaraner since I was 15 years old but I turned the offer down with thanks. My next dog will be a male Anatolian – one of Ericks’s naturally!

After Ricky left there were no other kills. We realized several months later that Didi had not been bitten or threatened since he left either. In retrospect, since he was the dominant male, I think Rika saw poor timid Didi as competition for the dominant female position. I remembered Erick’s warnings that when keeping adult Anatolians of the same sex you usually had to keep them separated or they would go after each other. It was better to only have one male and one female to avoid fights.

This was an unbelievable episode for us, but it taught us from a personal perspective how dog owners that let their pets run loose are shocked when the dogs are caught killing livestock. It also reinforced my belief that livestock killers should be put down. Even though we had the dog from a puppy and loved him, I could have put him down myself for this crime.

We did lose more sheep years later. During the Creek fire surrounding wildlife areas burned clear and coyote packs relocated to our location. Even with two Anatolians, our predator load was too great. We suffered daytime losses then. That episode will be covered later in this story.

 

[Ridgetop]

A lot of what I write is already known to owners of LGDs. Much of the background of LGDs is also known to livestock people whether they have LGDs or not. A lot of ranchers that did not have LGDs originally are now finding that they need several. This is particularly true in areas where the government has reintroduced predators like wolves and grizzlies. States with a ban on hunting cougar and other predators are also states where there is a need for LGDs to protect livestock.

BC, Canada, has a very interesting way of controlling understory in their vast tracts of forests. By grazing the sheep in the forests, the threat of forest fires is greatly reduced. Dennis Loxton uses sheep under contract to the government in British Columbia. Since these areas are heavily populated by bears, cougar, and packs of wolves, both sheep and humans are at risk from these apex predators. He has written several articles about the use of LGDs in the wild as his team and their dogs follow his flocks through the forests. https://www.great-pyrenees-club-of-southern-ontario.com/livestock-guardian-dogs-2.html

Ranch working dogs come in all sizes from giant guardian dogs to tiny rat terriers. These little rat terriers do terrific work clearing out rats in the barns and feed storage areas. Rats not only bring disease and eat valuable feed, but also will deliberately spoil feed by peeing and pooing on the remainder after they have eaten their fill. These ferocious little terriers were bred by farmers to be quick, agile and weigh under 15 lbs. In the mid-size range are the herding dogs. From the short legged corgis (bred to be shorter than a cow's kick) through Border Collies (obsessive herders) into the larger herding dogs like @SageHill's Obi and Zo. Livestock Guardians are large, powerful animals weighing well over 100 lbs. Some have longer hair, some have shorter hair, but all have double coats. The inner coat is soft and warm, the outer coat is harsher and designed to repel water and snow. These dogs are designed by nature’s selection to be protected from cold, rain, heat, and thorns as they go about their business. Guardians first were utilized by early man to protect their flocks since predations by wild animals could mean the difference between life and starvation. Today it means the difference between making a living and bankruptcy. Keeping the rancher solvent is the guardian’s business.

When a perceived threat approaches, the first warning is the appearance of a massive dog, usually barking loudly. Often their mere size is enough deterrent while the ferocious barking and growling tells predators to proceed at their peril. Usually this will convince the predator to go elsewhere. If the predator is so stupid or desperate as to enter the pasture, the guardian will try very hard to kill it. They are very efficient. Their heavy coat acts like armor protecting them from the teeth and claws of their enemies. Their loose skin enables them to twist in the mouth of their enemy and bite back. Their large size, powerful jaws and teeth, and utter devotion to their charges make them a very dangerous weapon. Their soft floppy ears are most at risk, which is why in Turkey Anatolians ears were cropped short.

In the case of wild predators, this method works very well. Wild predators rely on stealth to kill their food. If all the prey in the neighborhood knows they are coming this limits their chances of getting anything to eat. Wild animals also understand that an injury can mean death. An injured animal can’t hunt or defend itself. They do not engage in battles with other animals very often. A show of strength is usually all that occurs to settle a dispute. Larger animals drive smaller predators off their kills or out of their territory with threats. A coyote is smaller than a guardian dog and will not take the chance of getting in a fight one on one. A cougar can challenge one guardian dog in size but relies on stealth to capture prey. The warnings of the guardian dog will cause it to retreat and often change its hunting pattern to avoid the guardian’s territory. In areas where wolf packs and bears are common predators, the rancher must keep several dogs in each enclosure to guard his livestock.

Guardian dogs in numbers work as a team. When there are two dogs and predators approach the flock, one dog will advance to meet the threat. The second dog will drop back as a second line of defense. Predators are wily. While cougar and bear hunt alone, pack hunters are known to send in a scout to lure a guardian out. While the guardian chases off the intruder the rest of the pack is able to kill the targeted animal. By dropping back to the flock, the second dog is on hand to drive off the killers. The second dog’s alarm will bring the first dog hurrying back to assist in defending the flock.

Seeing guardian dogs moving slowly is misleading. A running dog disturbs the flock, causing them to mill and panic. A run at the flock is what predators will do to cut out their prey. Guardians move calmly through their sheep and goats, without alarming them. A person watching their slow progress may think they will be slow or clumsy. This would be a mistake. These large dogs have a speed that is amazing. They can almost outrun a greyhound for short bursts. By the time a predator has managed to reach its prey, the guardian is on top of him. The wise predator runs for his life. The slow predator is dead.

In the case of LGDs, they will often move the flock to safety before investigating a suspicious threat. The livestock learn to watch their guardian and will run to them for safety if frightened. As I mentioned, two guardians split the duties, one remaining with the flock or shepherding it to safety while the other advances to meet the threat. Anatolians carry their tail high to signify danger. If you watch your Anatolian with the flock you will notice that their tail is normally at the level of their back. However, if the dog senses danger it will stand between the flock and the perceived danger as it checks things out. The sheep will stop grazing and face the same way as the dog, watching the dog. In the case of the Anatolian, his sheep watch his tail which will be straight up over his back signaling alarm. As the Anatolian turns toward the direction of the danger the sheep will move to face the same way, behind the dog.

Often livestock owners never see the predators. Some LGD owners may think they have wasted their money buying a guardian dog. My question is “Have you lost any livestock?” The answer is usually “No”, and my response is “Then the dog is doing his job”. If predators are so abundant or aggressive that the threat from the dog is not enough, sometimes the only intimation that the rancher has of an attack is a dead predator in the field. The predator load is what determined the needed number of LGDs, not the size of the property or number of animals to be protected. Sweet and friendly with its owners, the livestock guardian dog can change in an instant to a powerful and dangerous protector. It will not back down until the threat has been removed.

Now that Rika and Didi were getting along, things settled into a calmer way of life. The sheep went out in the morning accompanied by their devoted guardian. The sheep came in at night under Rika’s watchful eyes. After they were safely in their stalls, she relaxed either on the patio or in the house for a few hours of family time. At night we slept peacefully, lulled by the knowledge that our guardian was on watch. Her nighttime barking gradually faded as the surrounding predators acknowledged her watching presence. If she barked during the night, it soothed us to sleep knowing she was on the job.

That spring we bought a replacement ram lamb and a couple new ewes. As we loaded them Eileen told me that a ram lamb had accidentally been left with the ewelings. She thought one ewe might be bred. When we got home, I checked for udder tissue but there was only a slight thickening. Barely bred I decided - at least three more months to go. Two weeks later we flew to Washington State on business for my aunt. The day before we were to return our son called with news that the 10-month-old eweling had just lambed! The next morning the news was more distressing, the lamb was not standing. Our sons had caught the ewe and tried to hold the lamb to nurse. The attempt failed. Although the lamb was eager for the teat, he couldn't keep on his feet. They tried to milk the ewe but the new mother, confused and frightened, would not let her milk down. As soon as I arrived home I gave the lamb a bottle. He was large and vigorous, crying his distress at not being able to get up and nurse. His mother licked him and encouraged him to no avail. Rika stayed in the barn. Didi seemed nervous. The next morning, on my way to the barn with the lamb’s bottle, our little mini-Dachshund bustled along beside me. Suddenly there was a rush of cream fur and a hideous snarling. Rika drove Pretzel yelping back to the house. Astonished I ran to check on Pretzel. Although unhurt, she was shocked and shaking. I put her inside with Didi who had refused to leave the house. Returning to the barn, Rika greeted me and ushered me to the pen occupied by the new mother and baby. The lamb was still unable to stand and was crying pathetically. Rika’s concern was palpable. She came into the stall and only retreated when the young mother butted her.

Rika remained next to the stall in the barn even though her other sheep were on the field. During the day I saw her make occasional forays onto the field to check the flock. The flock stayed close to the barn fence. The lamb remained unable to stand and started showing other neurological problems. Every time it cried Rika became agitated. The dogs came outside with me during the afternoon. Once again Rika showed unusual aggression towards them. I scolded her and put them back in the house. That afternoon I had the lamb euthanized. His condition was permanent and worsening. The house dogs refused to exit the house on the barn side for the next day or two. Strangely, as soon as the lamb was gone, Rika returned to the field. Her attitude toward the other dogs returned to normal.

The change in her attitude can only be attributed to the lamb’s condition. The paresis (inability to control muscular movements) was probably caused by a difficult birth. According to my son, when he found the lamb, it was weak and covered in orange slime which signifies a problem birthing. The lamb was large, and the ewe was young and small, contributing factors to a loss of oxygen and resulting neurological damage. I wasn't there to pull the lamb although we didn't realize she was so close to term. The lamb survived the birth, but in a pasture situation would have eventually died because it couldn’t get up to nurse. Rika went into protect mode due to the lamb’s condition and distress cries. If the ewe had died, Rika would have protected the motherless lamb until we arrived to save it. In this case, unable to get to its feet, its cries of distress triggered the same protectiveness. As soon as the distress cries stopped, and the lamb was gone, Rika went back to her regular duties. Another amazing instance of Anatolian protective behavior.

Rika was now fully grown. She is compact, agile, and fast at 112 lbs. Over the year and a half that Rika had been with us she had gone from aggressive behavior to strangers, to recognizing and admitting known persons. Now I realized she recognized what was normal in her surroundings. We live on a private road with no traffic other than our neighbors at the top of the hill. The neighbors walking past with their dogs used to trigger ferocious barking. I realized now that they no longer aroused even the hint of a bark as they drove or walked on the road. Ria recognized the neighbors as belonging on the road. Rika established the raised area between the roadside fence and the driveway retaining wall as a good area from which to keep vigil when the sheep were in the barn. From that perch she could watch the gully and adjacent roadway behind the house, was close to the barn, and could keep watch on the road and driveway approach to our house in the front. The only area out of sight was the far front pasture where the horses and mule ranged. Since she could reach that area quickly (she was incredibly fast) and her sheep were locked in the barn, that area was insignificant. One morning after our neighbor Burt drove down to the mailbox to pick up his newspaper, he accidentally left their gate open. They had a new rescue Borzoi; it had wandered out of the gate and down the road. DH went to call them, while I tried to coax the dog back. He was very shy of people, and I wasn’t sure if he would come when called. If he got off the road, there were acres of open hill, if he got to the bottom, the street and cars posed a major hazard. Katherine ran out of the gate calling, and the dog, looking slightly bewildered at being out alone, returned to her. After pleasantries were exchanged and she went home, I realized that Rika had been standing quietly by the fence. She was not barking or lunging at the loose dog on the road. Odd behavior, but I put it aside to think about later. Over the next few weeks, I noticed that the Borzois would often come to their fence line or gate. I would hear some barking, but not alarm or threat barking. This barking had more a recognition quality in it. Rarely, the Borzois would bark in answer. Rika had apparently decided that they belonged there and was not going to go after them. If they had shown aggression toward the sheep or herself, things would probably have been different. Like Eric told us, Anatolians analyze the situation and act accordingly. She had decided that these dogs belonged on that property and that they and their owners had access along the road. Very sensible!

 

[Ridgetop]

Up to now we had not had to do much training with Rika. She was perfect with lambing ewes and newborns. She was actually perfect all around. She came to us trained by Erick. It was more a matter of her training us to what Anatolians were capable of. She is an amazing dog. She has a sense of humor too.

Occasionally Rika disappears. Since we are used to seeing her with the sheep we don't usually worry about it. Usually, she would arrive to greet us and then return to her sheep. On those rare occasions when she doesn't respond to our calls, we worry about her safety. Anatolians are large capable dogs who feel they can handle any problem on their own. Our California coyotes would be no match for her. They are small animals who normally hunt alone. Occasionally a female and her pups will hunt together, or siblings will stay together for a while after leaving their mother. Rika is about three times the size and weight of a coyote. The previous night she had been active, working the boundaries and barking to warn off predators. We didn’t think any cougars were in the area. You can identify a cougar by the tone of the bark. The timbre of a dog’s bark announcing a big cat literally makes the hair on the back of your neck rise up. This is a very definite feeling and not to be confused with a regular warning bark. It was always possible though that a cougar had caught her unawares from downwind. We were beginning to get concerned. Maybe she was dead – horrible thought! Just as worrisome, she had been injured and was lying somewhere unable to drag herself to the house for help.

After calling her for some time with no response, I set out on a circuit of the fence line. This was a difficult hike. I took my crook to help me climb up and down the hillsides. I couldn’t see the bottom of the hillsides from the top, I had to climb down and walk around from below. The front acres were empty - No Rika, no sheep. I checked her bush cave and was surprised to see how large it was now. It would have held all 5 of my grandchildren and Rika too. I was glad she had such a comfortable den but was sorry it was empty. I continued around the side acres and hiked partway down the steep hillside leading into the gully. The sheep paths traversed the property from side to side and I looked carefully in any hiding place I could find. By now DH and DS1 were on the other side of the house calling her too. Still no Rika.

Now we were all worried about her. I decided I would have to climb down the big gully behind the house. With my binoculars in my hand, I told my son that I was going to climb down and hike through the gully looking for her poor wounded body. He said he would go with me, but we would drive around to the lower road where we could hack our way through the brush and get into the gully from the bottom. This would save time if we had to carry her out and rush her to the vet. I got a bottle of water figuring if she was injured, she would be thirsty, if she wasn’t then I would be by the time I climbed into the chasm below. Arriving at the back road I walked along the cliff rim of the gully trying to see Rika. We had no luck sighting Rika although her flock was partially straggled along the far slope of the hill. We drove back to the bottom of the road, parked, and began the scratchy hike through the brush to the gate into the gully. DS1 wrenched it open, and we squeezed through the scrub choked entrance. As he struggled to pull the gate shut behind us, I scrutinized the high cliffs on one side and the steep banks on the other through the binoculars. The drought and sheep had cleared a lot of the overgrowth leaving better visibility than usual. This end of the gully was wider and flatter, but the far end was choked with heavy brush which would have hidden a platoon of men, let alone a single dog. Together DS1 and I hiked up the gully bottom, passing the place where sheep #3 had died. We could see a few sheep clustered under an elderberry tree on the far side of the hill halfway up the slope. As we approached the place we had found the first dead ewe 2 years before, I started calling Rika again. Suddenly, there was an alarmed barking and seemingly out of a tree jutting from the cliff above our heads, Rika appeared. Tail wagging happily as she recognized us, she pranced up to DS1 and danced around him. Then she bounded up the cliff and disappeared into the tree. Puzzled, we agreed that she looked fine. Her actions seemed to say that she wanted us to follow her so DS1, taking my crook, told me to stay where I was. He began to climb the cliff to the tree. As his head came level with the base of the tree trunk, he started to scold Rika laughingly. Sliding and scrambling backwards down the cliff he told me that Rika had another den on top of where the tree trunk jutted out of the cliff. She had gone back to bed! The view from her aerie was perfect. She could see the entire gully from side to side, was close to the roadway above her head, and could also see the entire hill side of the property. She had a view of 3 of the 5 acres. She had been able to watch the sheep leaving their barn pen and heading out onto the field. After cleaning up the hay at the horse feeders the sheep had come to the gully to check in with her and returned to the top of the hill. In her cool den she was able to keep an eye on them, catch some shuteye, and ignore our calls.

Sweaty, scratched, and tired, we left our perfectly healthy dog in the tree and headed out of the gully to the car and home. When we reached the car, I got out the bottle of water I had lovingly carried to soothe the thirst of my supposedly injured dog. DS1 and I shared it on the way home. Rika could get her own.

Rika was now three and a half years old. She had reached her full size and weighed 112 lbs. She escorted her flock to the pasture and accompanied them back in at night. She never tried to leave the property and had been trained not to run out the electric gate when we opened it. She was calm with visitors although she watched them until deciding they were friendly. She was wonderful with the grandchildren, and for such a huge dog, she was quiet in the house. When she came in at night, she would visit each family member for a few minutes and then lie down on her bed and relax until she decided to return to her duties outside. She is a perfect guardian dog,

The coyotes were still numerous and liked to come to the fence line singing in a pack to enrage Rika. We also had the occasional cougar. The sheep had eaten off all the brush and with the drought there was no cover for a mountain lion to sneak up. El Nino had already brought unseasonal rainstorms and was expected to hit southern California hard. If we got sufficient rain the undergrowth would spring up overnight. Since our flock were all due to lamb in January, they would not be out grazing on the main field until March or so. By then the growth should be well established.

The demographics of our rural community was changing too. Due to the large sizes of the properties and remoteness of access, as well as the absence of the owners at their jobs during the day, we were beginning to experience a lot of daylight crimes in our community. Our neighborhood association posted bulletins of thefts and burglaries and warnings to keep homes and vehicles locked even in our own driveways. For the first 15 years we lived here, we hadn’t even had a key for our doors, now we were hearing about burglaries, and even a home invasion robbery. In spite of an active neighborhood watch community, crime was increasing. Most of the problems involved parked cars at night or minor pilfering during the day. Neighbors reported seeing suspicious persons with empty backpacks or pushcarts walking through private neighborhoods. When accosted, these persons would run off. The wash where our children had ridden their ponies alone was no longer safe even for groups of adult riders. Homeless encampments in areas of the wash were inhabited by drug dealers, addicts, and criminals. A task force had been established to make routine sweeps and remove these dangerous people. Two women had even been found murdered in the camps. Our piece of heaven was beginning to suffer from urban crime.

Our dogs and hidden location off the main road had protected us. Two months previously we had lost our beloved Didi, who died peacefully in her sleep one afternoon. Pretzel was still active and trying to boss Rika around at night when she came inside for family time. Now we no longer had a resident large house dog, and Rika stayed with the sheep on our acreage. She could be at the house quickly, but since she relied on the house dogs barking to know someone had arrived at the house during the day, we needed to rethink our dog situation. We had never been without two large house dogs. We wouldn’t replace our Weimaraner with another large breed female since Rika would eventually try to take her out. Poor shy Didi had not been happy the past year of her life even though she and Rika had come to an understanding of hierarchy. Pretzel was too small to worry Rika (although Rika came quickly to her defense when necessary) but was also too small to deter a thief. We had discussed eventually getting another Anatolian to help Rika as she got older but had not really planned to do so for a while. Now it seemed the time was approaching when we would have to make that decision. Unfortunately, Erick did not have grown male dogs available the way he sometimes had adult females. It looked like we would have to get a puppy. This did not thrill me. Puppies are adorable but need training. Guardian dogs do not receive the same type of training as normal household pets. Their normal puppy training in the house is the same, their need to be trained to come when called, respect the authority of us as pack leaders, etc. was similar. However, training a good guardian dog is a lot more work and I was not sure I was up for it. People think that the puppy will be trained by the resident guardian dog, but that is not the case. More often than not, the old dog is too old by the time the puppy arrives and just like older persons, old dogs do not like to run after small puppies. We would have to do the training, and I was not sure how to go about it. I wanted a male Rika. Erick had trained Rika and that was what I wanted – an Erick Conard trained adult male dog.

You guessed it -we would be getting a male Anatolian puppy, and we would have to train him ourselves.

 

[Baymule]

Rika is the perfect dog. Hard act to follow. Plus she spoiled y’all, being already trained, by Eric Conard no less!

I’m a year into training Buford, what an adventure! How quickly I forget training Sentry, then Sheba! Anatolians from Turkey? Nah……. These are Jamaica Dogs! As in……
Ja-make-uh-me-crazy!

 

[Ridgetop]

Yes, Rika definitely spoiled us for any other LGD. Even now Erick and I moan that I spayed her even though when I bought her I told him that was my plan.

Now we were going to start with a puppy. A male puppy. Male Anatolians are known to be tough to train, often aggressive, and very dominant. I was not sure I could do this, but with Erick's help I would have to try. He had a litter coming. The sire was Rika's litter brother, sweet natured and perfect like Rika. The mother was a pretty bitch, whose more aggressive temperament Erick said was necessary to put back into the Anatolian breed which he worried was becoming too soft. The puppies were born and we planned our trip to Texas. Erick had chosen a big, black masked boy (in the back with his sister in front).

We drove to Texas to pick up our puppy. He was 14 weeks old and very large. His sire weighed 150 lbs. Erick told us he would be as large as his father. Since the puppy's paws were the size of saucers this was a no brainer. On the way home the puppy shared the back seat with Pretzel, our 7 lb. mini-Dachshund. At night he slept in his crate in our 5th wheel trailer. Lifting the 35 lb. puppy in and out of the truck was a breeze. On the way home we relaxed, how silly to worry about the difficulty of raising a male Anatolian. With Rika to help train him, and Erick a quick telephone call away, we could handle this. Arriving home, we released our puppy to make the acquaintance of Harika. He gamboled up to her, tripping over his enormous paws. She regarded him with scorn. Unfazed, our puppy again approached her, this time stumbling into her front legs. Leaping aside Harika let out a low rumble. The puppy immediately rolled over on his back submissively. Harika, with a disgusted look at the pup and a disbelieving one at us for inflicting this creature on her, stalked off to her sheep. Where was the joyous welcome of a puppy by his new teacher? Had we miscalculated?

He needed a name. It must be a strong, courageous name to strike fear into predators’ hearts. He would be registered Lucky Hit Akis Korumak – Korumak is Turkish for Warrior Guardian. Our young warrior guardian was extremely clumsy due to those impossibly huge feet. If he ever grew into them, he would be impressive. In the meantime, we had a problem with calling him Korumak. First, it was a big mouthful to bawl across the field. Second, it really didn’t fit a clumsy pup that had trouble walking across the floor without falling onto his face. The predators would not have to worry, he would trip on his way to repel them, and they would die of laughter. I called him Bubba.

Harika continued to ignore Baby Bubba as much as possible. He slept in the barn with the sheep for safety. Every morning DH took Bubba on a tour of the property to learn the perimeters. Bubba was thrilled to go on these walks. The sheep were used to guardian dogs and stood quietly as he clumsily approached them. When Harika went into the deep gully to investigate he would try to follow. Occasionally there would be pitiful yelps from Bubba as he realized he could no longer see Harika or us through the deep brush. He learned to follow his name when we called him. We noticed Harika would pause and look back to see if he was in danger. She was not as oblivious to the small pup as first appeared.

Bubba would paw us to ask for attention. Cute, right? Wrong. This was dominant behavior. What was cute in a little puppy would become extremely annoying in a 150 lb. adult. Instead of pushing him away and scolding him, I decided on another course. When little Bubba confidently raised his paw to demand caresses, I immediately sidestepped, grabbed the paw, and said “Shake.” I continued to hold the paw and tell him “Shake, good boy” until he tried to pull his paw back. Then I released and praised him. When he got bored and didn’t want to lift his paw in response to the “Shake” command I grabbed it anyway. This enforced my dominant position over Bubba in a positive way. One behavior problem dealt with. Our grandchildren were delighted with Baby Bubba. They played with him, performed his “shake” trick, and tried to teach him to fetch. His adoration of them was obvious, but as he grew his exuberance became daunting. At 6 months Bubba towered over the 3-year-old and was now face to face with the 7-year-old. His strong muscular tail became a weapon to dodge. Even the 9-year-old began to brace himself before receiving Bubba’s affectionate greeting.

Harika was 18 months old when we brought her home. Most of her puppy behavior was behind her. Bubba had a lot of Anatolian puppy behavior still to teach us. Bubba ate our hoses. We bought new hoses and he devoured those as well. I remembered seeing Erick’s hoses strung from the trees and fence posts. He told me it was to protect them from the puppies. Now we knew what he had been talking about. We bought more hoses and tied them up in the air. We ignored the incredulous stares of visitors. Often at night I heard garbled curses outside as a dangling hose caught someone across the throat. We consoled ourselves that when Bubba matured that would end.

Bubba now had his adult teeth - large white fangs, the better to repel predators. Did you know that an Anatolian’s bite strength has been measured at 743 psi? Bubba began to practice with his large white fangs. Since the hoses were out of reach, instead he ate the reflector lights off our truck. One evening as Marv sat in his recliner, he noticed that Bubba, lovingly resting his head on the master’s chair for his caresses, was actually gnawing the wooden arm. Two new kitchen chairs suffered the same fate. “My fault,” I said to an irate husband, “I didn’t supply enough puppy chews.” Bubba ate through the XXXL size rawhides in an hour. I switched to giant cow leg bones which lasted longer. If you tripped over one you could break a toe. Soon the family room was scattered with them. It looked like the elephants’ graveyard, but inside the furniture was safe.

Outside was another matter. Bubba chewed tree limbs that he found, rocks, bricks, tools, firewood from the log pile, grandchildren’s toys, and anything that would fit in his mouth. He could reduce a brick to dust in a matter of hours. It was common to turn around during a job outside and find that our tools and materials had walked away. Now everything not locked up needed to be placed 5’ in the air.

Bubba discovered that he liked the soft cushions of our patio furniture better than the hard ground. I purchased fitted furniture covers to protect the cushions from Bubba’s hair and dirt as he slept on them. As the 4th of July approached, we removed these covers for our annual BBQ. Shocked, we discovered that under the covers Bubba had eaten the cushions from the settee, glider, and both chairs. The protective covers themselves were untouched. We needed replacement cushions before our 4th of July party. 7 sets of seat and back cushions were shockingly expensive, but our guests couldn’t sit on bare metal springs. As we approached the checkout, Marv asked where I planned to store the cushions safely away from Bubba. We returned to the garden area and loaded three large deck boxes on a second flatbed cart. Silently, Marv threw a few extra hoses and a replacement hammer on top. Over $2000 poorer we returned home. Bubba’s damages were mounting. The hoses, truck reflectors, kitchen chairs, recliner arm, furniture cushions, tools, and deck boxes all added to a sizeable figure. This amount did not include the quantities of giant bones we bought him. We consoled ourselves that he would grow out of this “phase”. We had not abandoned our hope that raising Bubba would be easier than we were warned. It was certainly more expensive.

Bubba grew and grew, fulfilling the prophecy of his giant paws. He continued to be clumsy through his first year. Harika now began the real work of training him. She knocked him down and taught him how to take out the forelegs of an adversary. She moved on to teaching him how to go for the nape of the neck or the throat in death grips. The Anatolians’ loose skin allows them to twist in the bite of an enemy. He learned to twist around and grab her by the throat. He thought she was playing, but I could see how these moves he was learning would make him a formidable protector. If only he could stop falling over his own feet!

Harika now took Bubba with her into the gully. Often, she allowed Bubba to patrol alone under her watchful eye. If there was a real threat, she was past him in a flash to confront it. Harika was the leader and had the experience, but Bubba was well over 90 lbs. and learning fast. Both dogs patrolled the field together at night. They were not yet a bonded partnership, but we could see the beginnings.

In the evenings our Anatolians come into the house to enjoy family time. Harika came quietly, made the rounds of everyone for a caress, then lay down to nap. We had purchased a giant dog bed for her, but 7 lb. Pretzel had appropriated it and drove off any would-be claimant in a frenzy. Although Pretzel preferred our laps, when the Anatolians came in the house, she discovered a great need to occupy the giant cushion. One evening I heard a yelp and looked over to see if someone had decided that Pretzel’s super ego needed deflating. Pretzel was hanging from one of Bubba’ toes as he held his foot up in the air crying. He had approached her cushion and with her almost toothless jaws she was biting the only part she could reach! The amazing thing about these huge Anatolians was the calm they displayed in the house.

At morning and dusk, the dogs were particularly playful. We had to be quick on our feet and wary when feeding the sheep. Being hit by 150 lbs. of Anatolian at full gallop is no joke. Occasionally it looked as if Bubba charged at us on purpose! His sassy grin as we dodged him seemed to say so. Around this time Bubba also discovered the old trash burn site on the property which predated city trash service. We had removed several truckloads of burned metal, broken glass, china, and other rubbish when we moved in. Our other dogs had explored this canine treasure box over the years as well. Their finds were brought to the house and lovingly deposited in a special area midway between the back door and the stairs to the barn. We had an old Kewpie doll with a chewed off hand, a rusted revolver, part of a cultivator, and multiple sun blasted glass bottles from old patent medicines and liquor. Bubba’s excavated items joined this miscellaneous collection. His items began to include huge pieces of wood which he trustingly brought to us to throw. He enjoyed chasing thrown objects, although he never brought the items back to us. These pieces of wood and old lumber ranged in size from 3-4” in diameter, and 3-4’ long. Timbers might be a better way to describe them. One was so large I could not lift it. I had to drag it off the driveway. Since Bubba apparently had a deep attachment to it, he kept bringing it back and placing it tenderly just where we would fall over it when going out to the barn in the dark. Between his playful attempts to knock us down and his booby traps it was apparent that Bubba had a sense of humor.

 

[Ridgetop]

Up to now Bubba’s behavior problems were minor. Expensive perhaps, but we were able to work with and train him out of them. Now we were about to enter into a much more difficult phase. And it was to be the beginning of several years of lambing he//. Looking back on what we went through every lambing season I realize if Bubba had not been such a terrific guardian, we might have considered taking him back to Erick. He was terrific at predator control, and as a home guardian we felt completely safe with hm around. He had grown to be a massive dog. When fully grown he weighed 160 lbs. and stood 34” at the shoulder. I could lean on him (and often did) when my bad leg acted up. His face had widened into a beautiful masculine head.

Bubba 9 months old, barely fits in the giant dog bed . . .
2 years old - has outgrown the giant dog bed!

Lambing season had arrived! This was Bubba’s first exposure to lambing ewes. We had no worries – he would be another Harika. Harika is the picture of perfect Anatolian behavior, laying down 10 feet from the nervous mother and waiting for maternal approval. Before using marking harnesses our ewes often would stay in the deep gully overnight to lamb. With Harika they were safe. Using marking harnesses on our rams meant we could pinpoint the arrival dates within a couple days. To avoid having to climb into the gully and retrieve newborns we had set up jugs in the barn for our expectant moms.

Our family loves lambing. It is a time of great excitement as we all crowd into the barn and surround the jugs. Our married children show up with the grandchildren. There is much talking and laughter as we marvel at the miracle of new life. Bubba was extremely excited also. OVERLY excited. He was determined to get inside the jugs to the newborn lambs. Shouting at him made him more excited and less controllable. Holding a lamb, we tried showing it to him to calm him down. He lunged and tried to snatch the lamb from our arms. More shrieking from our family at this bloodthirsty attempt to kill the lamb. As he whined and tried to claw his way inside the jugs, the ewes charged him through the bars. He snarled and snapped at them. Stepping between him and the jugs I walked him back using the “Back Off” command. His snapping jaws almost closed on my legs several times as I blocked his frenzied approaches. DH and DS1, worried that I would get bitten, tried to drag him back. There was pandemonium in the barn. We finally leashed him and imprisoned him in the kennel while we dealt with the lambs and their panicked moms.

With Bubba in the kennel, I went inside to call Erick. Erick explained that male Anatolians have an extremely high desire to mother newborn lambs, often higher than bitches. He tried to snatch the lambs because he wanted them for himself. In his juvenile Anatolian brain Bubba felt that we did not appreciate the danger in which the lamb stood from its savage mother. Since the ewe charged at Bubba as he tried to rescue the lambs, this reinforced his belief. Time for newborn lamb behavior training. Back down in the barn with Bubba on a leash, we opened a jug and held him back while praising him for being calm. Heels dug in, braced, and leaning backwards, it was all I could do to hold him back. Bubba had become immensely powerful in his 11 months. For several weeks I worked with him on the leash without much success. Scolding fell on deaf ears. Bubba was determined to claim the newborns for his own. Erick said work with him for 20 minutes. Bubba was so powerful I couldn’t manage more than 10! Exhausted, we realized that we could not allow him to be loose with lambing ewes like we did with Harika. Every dog is different. Harika was PERFECT, he was just . . . Bubba. We decided to work around him in the hope that he would outgrow this “phase”. When we had to go into a jug, we put Bubba in the kennel. He was fine with month old lambs in the field with their mothers. It seemed that it was just newborns he had an uncontrollable urge to steal. Once lambing was over Bubba became his calm loving self again.

Our second lambing season came around. Apparently, Bubba had not read the book saying that his behavior was a “phase” due to youth. Again, a ravening wolf was loose in the barn. Shouting and screaming was heard as we yelled at Bubba to “Back Off” from the jugs, at each other with conflicting orders how to control him, and were knocked aside by his erratic lunges. Harika had endured enough from all of us. Leaping on Bubba (who was twice her size now) she took him to the ground and proceeded to beat him up. The rest of us scrambled to avoid the combatants in the narrow aisle. Having made her point, Harika allowed Bubba to get to his feet where he made the mistake of growling at her. Again, she took him down and beat him up. Then with her jaws clamped firmly around his muzzle she backed him out of the barn and tossed him whimpering to the ground. Bubba, shocked at this treatment from his mentor, shook himself off and tried to reenter the barn. Harika gave a bloodcurdling snarl. Bubba whined and laid down outside the barn. Harika sat in the doorway of the barn glaring at him. Every so often Bubba would start to get up and Harika would again give a low warning. In the barn all humans remained silent as we went about our lamb chores. Rika had made it known that not only did she find Bubba’s behavior intolerable, but our shouting was not appropriate either. For the rest of that lambing period Harika stationed herself in the entry to the barn and Bubba waited unhappily outside. In between I attempted to do leash training with Bubba and the ewes. I thought I saw some progress.

Bubba’s third lambing season began. Our Dorper flock had grown. Due to our limited number of jugs, we now had ewes lambing every couple of months. Years of Bubba snarling hysterically amid the jugs stretched ahead. We faced what seemed to be an insurmountable training dilemma with Bubba and the newborns. We were resigned to kenneling him when we were working in the jugs. It was worrying. If a ewe lambed on the field would Bubba grab the newborn? Would he injure or kill the ewe when she tried to protect it? Lambing had lost its charm. Nobody wanted to be in the barn with Bubba’s manic behavior. Sone day, spotting Bubba far out on the field, I snuck into the barn alone to sex, weigh, and iodine cords. It was quiet as I murmured soothingly to the ewes. Turning to leave the jug I noticed that Bubba was standing silently by the pen watching. Exiting carefully, I sat on a hay bale with Bubba at my side. As he investigated the jugs the ewes watched him calmly. The next day with the same behavior from him I took a young lamb from a jug and put it on the ground in front of him. Bubba licked it roughly. It fell over and he nosed it to its feet. More lamb training on the leash was accomplished over the next couple weeks with noticeable success.

I remembered something Erick had told me about aggressive behavior in Anatolians. They meet aggression with aggression, escalating as the opposing aggression level rises. Could it be that our yelling and screaming at Bubba had made him think we were in danger from the ewes and lambs? Did he think we were encouraging him to go after them? Did the ewes butting at him through the jug bars make him think that they posed a danger to the newborn lambs? Or to us? I called Erick with this breakthrough. Erick agreed that Bubba was confused and reacted in an overprotective mode to the uproar. Once you understand the way the guardian dog’s genetics are directing its behavior, everything shifts into focus. Apparently, it was Bubba’s humans who were slow learners.