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Great big hairy beast. The vet told me right away at his first appointment days after I got him that Akitas are VERY intelligent and can be "trying" because of that. They get very easily bored with nothing challenging to occupy themselves with. But on the other hand, they learn very quickly with little or no reinforcement training. Because they get so easily bored, they tend to get into harmless mischief.
I'm amazed at the things he taught himself. He could easily open a door that wasn't locked in a matter of seconds just by grabbing the doorknob in his mouth and twisting (I was finally able to break him of that habit by mixing chilli powder with vaseline and wiping it on the doorknob... he never touched another one again).
He taught himself to turn on the faucet in the tub to get a drink (unfortunately he refused to turn it off, but it was only ever a trickle so I just let him do it). I tried his whole life to break him of that habit and kept his water bowl right next to or even in the bathtub. But unless I had just washed and refilled the bowl, he'd ignore it and turn on the faucet.
There was no cabinet, drawer or closet he couldn't get into as long as he could reach it. I had to stop keeping the kitchen towel tucked through the handle of the fridge because he'd use the towel to pull open the door (BANANZA!).
In the car he learned how to honk the horn to amuse himself or if he was getting impatient for me or break into the glovebox (fortunately, he didn't do that often because usually if I had to leave him in the car for a few minutes while I ran into the 7-11 or whatever there were people around or other more interesting things to occupy his attention).
Almost all of his watchdog work I never had to train him how to do... he just did it. Unless you were clearly invited into the house by me, you weren't coming in, and it made no difference how well he knew you... same thing with the car. He recognized immediately that small children, the elderly or disabled required extra gentle behavior as well as more diligent guarding... even people like that that he just met.
Briefly we lived in an apartment where an elderly couple lived a floor below us. The old gentleman had a really bad stroke and could barely do much of anything himself. A couple of times a week he'd laborously walk down two flights to the ground floor and back up again for exercize... it sometimes took him well over an hour. He'd stop and sit down to rest on every landing. Because it was so hard for him, he used the back/fire stairwell so he wouldn't be in the way of other people going up and down the main stairwell. I always used the back stairwell to take out the dog because he always bounded down the stairs, and I didn't want him barreling into anyone (and his size alone could intimidate people). Whenever we discovered the old man in the stairwell, he became a different dog. If the old guy was trudging down the stairs, the dog would get up right beside him and follow along with him until he stopped (it didn't take long for the old guy to use both the banister and the dog both as support). If the old guy was sitting on the landing resting, he'd sit down with him and refuse to budge until the old guy got back up again. If anyone dared to use the back stairwell while the old guy was there, he'd position himself in front of him and watch them like a hawk until they passed by and disappeared up or down the stairs. I'd have to drag him outside away from the old guy, he'd rush through doing his business and then haul me back into the stairwell to continue guarding the old guy until he was safely inside his apartment.
Small children he'd patiently let crawl all over him, yank his fur, cram their hands into his big maw, wrap their arms around his neck and hang on dangling from him... and he'd just submit. But he could tell the difference somehow between the clumsy attempts at affection of the very young and the calculated teasing of older children. Teasing he'd tolerate up to a point... if that point was breached, he'd show his teeth, give a little growl and get up and walk away.
There was a little gang of kids in my neighborhood that we often ran into while they would be outside playing. Somehow he knew which kids were aware of the dangers of going into the street and which ones weren't. The ones that weren't he watched diligently and was quick to dash in front of them and block them if they got too close to the curb. He determined that the sidewalk was the boundry line and no young child oblivious to the dangers of the street were going to cross that line... he'd dodge and block till the cows came home. Several of the neighborhood moms got accustomed to this, and there were many times when we came along that they'd ask me if I minded if my dog watched the kids while they dashed inside to pee, answer the phone, check if the greenbeans were boiling over on the stove, etc.... I still think it's funny that they asked me if my DOG could watch them instead of ME watching them!
I didn't teach him ANY of this stuff... he just did it.
I'm really babbling away here, but I just realized that this is the first time I've been able to think about him at length and not get all choked up and depressed. I guess that's a good thing, but damn, I sure miss him.
Oh yeah... here's a couple funny bizzaro things about my dog:
There was two things he loved (other then me) to the exlusion of all else - the toilet and my underwear. The very first day I brought him home as a pup he discovered the toilet, and it was love at first sight. When he was small, he'd sleep in the space between the wall and the back of the toilet. When he grew to big for that (and for the rest of his life) he often could be found napping in the bathroom with his front legs wrapped around the toilet hugging it. I can't even count how many times I had to climb all over him and rest my feet on top of him to use the potty. We moved three times in his life, and each time when I took him to the new home the first thing he did was run around frantically in search of the toilet. When he found it, he'd check it out to make sure it was indeed a toilet, and then he'd be ok ("pheeewwwww! Thank God she got a place with a toilet! What a relief!").
And then there were my panties. Clean or not, they were an object of sheer delight. He never chewed them or licked them, he just wanted to... er... BE with them. He'd carry them around, roll on them, sleep with them, shove them around the carpet with his nose, sit on them, paw at them... what could be more splendid? While most dogs in order to impress a visitor will bring them a favorite toy as a special offering, he would bring them a pair of my underwear. How embarrassing. Whenever I knew someone was coming to visit, before running about with the vaccuum cleaner I'd be searching the house for stray panties and securely locking them away from him. Somehow, I often missed a pair he had stashed away somewhere, and he'd go get it and present it to the visitor. Two weeks after he passed away I moved. I found about six pairs of undies hidden in various places (most of them under the sofa of course ;)).
And now I'm REALLY babbling, but it's so nice to think/talk about him and smile instead of cry. Maybe this is a sign that it may be time to start looking around for another dog. Of course it will be another Akita. I know he won't be the same as my old buddy, but he'll undoubtedly have some kind of wacky personality traits, and that's the kind of stuff that makes you love them so much.
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