Last night, Scout and I went down to the Stuttgarter Weindorf for our final night of bachelor eatin'. This "Stuttgart Wine Village" is a temporary complex of outdoor restaurants that's been set up on the plaza in front of the Rathaus until July 10th; if you're so inclined, you can go back night after night and sample different southern German dishes -- and, of course, all kinds of wines.
Scout was the belle of the ball. Everywhere we turned, different people were making tchk-tchk-tchk come-here noises to attract Scout's attention. Once we selected a restaurant and sat down, the proprietress came out with a bowl of water, bent down to pet Scout and call her sweetie, and started talking to me about her Beagle. A younger retarded man came over to pet Scout; things started off well; he gave her a piece of Wurst (with permission) -- but then he started trying to get her to play by grabbing at her paws, and it was all over. Scout doesn't even like us touching her paws -- Spielende mit den Pfoten ist stark verboten! -- and she was getting visibly uncomfortable, so I asked him to please not touch her paws, and he went off in a huff. I slipped Scout some Käsespätzle (baked noodles with cheese) to make up for the injustice.
This is pretty much what German life is like for Scout everywhere she goes; she gets plenty of attention from strangers (sometimes accompanied by treats!) and there are always lots of interesting things to sniff out. I think that out of the three of us, she may well like Germany the best -- however, she's the most poorly assimilated. You can still tell that Scout is definitely not a German dog.
For example, once I sat down to dinner Scout stayed up and about, sniffing as far as her leash would let her, making hopeful eyes at people passing by, and tying herself around the legs of my chair. Telling her to Sit worked for about a couple of minutes at most before she was sniffing around again. I had to keep her on the shortest leash that I possibly could without choking her, lest she walk out into the aisle and trip someone. Contrast this with the other dogs at the fest, big or small, who were napping under the table or their owner's chair until it was time to get up and leave.
When you go shopping at a big store, there is often a small group of dogs clustered by the front door; their owners have gone inside to shop, telling their dogs to wait there until they come out. Many of the dogs don't even have leashes -- but despite this, they sit in their assigned spot, ignoring the other people going in and out, ignoring the other dogs, focused completely on the front door, waiting for their person to come out again. We're not talking thoroughbred dogs in front of chi-chi boutiques, either; this is a scenario you'll see played out every day in front of Wal-Mart by working-class mutts.
We tried this once before going to Germany, and afterwards resolved never to try it again. We were in Carmel (one of the most dog-friendly cities in California, by the way) and tied Scout to a lamppost in front of a small store -- so small that she could see the entire store through the front door. I stepped just inside the front door and she started yelping and barking, scrabbling frantically for the door, like she was afraid the dognappers were after her, or I was going to duck out through the secret back exit!
Then there's the whole leashless thing. Each day I walk through what I call the 'impromptu dogpark' -- there's always a big group of dogs playing there. There's a busy street along one side, there are no fences anywhere, you never know what kind of dogs are going to walk in -- but yet the owners are sitting on a bench, talking away while their dogs play on the other side of the park, because they know that with a few words, they can tell their dog to ignore whatever's about to get it in trouble and order it to come running back. Leashes are pretty much optional; they appear in certain situations, like in a store or the subway, or if you have a threatening dog -- but most of the time, people let their dogs roam out ahead of them, since they can bring them to heel with a simple voice command. I still cringe when we're out walking and I see a big dog without a leash loping towards Scout -- oh no, dangerous stray dog! -- but I've never had a problem here; usually a few curious sniffs at most, before its owner becomes apparent and tells it to move along.
Unfortunately, Scout is actually pretty well-trained -- for a Beagle. But next to the average German mutt, she looks sloppy and disobedient. Maybe the Beagle's general intractability and preference to follow an interesting scent instead of an owner's directions are the reason why you see so few of them here in the land of Unnaturally Well-Behaved Dogs.
What do they do here to make all of the dogs so good?
(Now if only the owners were well-trained enough to pick up after their dogs ...)
Posted by Kevin at June 28, 2004 09:58 AM