Layla Moon: Still with the barking & the terrible teens

Layla's latest photo shoot reveals the identity she hopes to one day project.

Contrary to her latest photo shoot (see accompanying glamour shot), our sweet, silly Layla Moon is not the conquering ruler she aspires to be.

Instead, she's an adolescent shepherd going through what I'm told is a common fear phase of development in which the entire world is out to get her…attack her family…steal their cars…ransack the house…and, make off with all the food!

Basically, Layla is a teen with a very tenuous grasp of her own personal safety and that of her loved ones.

You may remember I wrote a few months ago about Layla's sudden onset of verbosity, barking at everything and nothing at all. Well, dear reader, it's a new year and we still have a barky little beast on your hands.

At nearly 9 months old, Layla is knee deep in some complex canine coming-of-age development.

I only know this because recently I threw up my hands, opened my checkbook, and we met with a dog trainer to try to help our Layla Moon.

The encounter with the dog trainer was totally interesting. We met her at a nearby park. When she arrived, both Luka and Layla were scared, standoffish. However, within a few minutes of The Weed and I talking with the trainer, both dogs were voluntarily approaching her and even sitting next to her without any concern or proclamations of **STRANGER DANGER!!!**

I've always believed animals know who they can trust. However, Layla's actions in recent months had made me questioning that belief. Questioning a lot, really.

In theory, Layla should trust my brother when he visits us. Sure, he's a giant cowboy with a big hat and stompy boots who scares me sometimes but he's mostly harmless.

In theory, Layla should trust our friends, Barbara and Chris. Still, at Thanksgiving when they visited, it took hours before she settled down enough to even be in the same room with them.

What I've learned about Layla and most dogs is they go through fear phases, and it seems our Layla is in the midst of her "secondary fear" phase.

See also: Ugh.

According to the dog trainer, secondary fear is believed to occur anywhere between 6 and 18 months of age, during social maturation where dogs change from puppyhood into adults. The hormonal and neural changes they are going through may be linked to secondary fear because the primary fear center of the brain, the amygdala, is enlarged and it reacts more to the environment…and stress hormones are at their highest levels during this time. Not ideal.

The dog trainer shared all this information with The Weed and me during our hour-long meeting. She also mentioned Layla's age corresponds to the period that if she lived in the wild she would be leaving her mother and setting off on her own. So, her fear and reactivity are ingrained for her safety.

Additionally, she is a shepherd. She is bred to protect those she loves and notice anything different or out of the ordinary…anything that could be dangerous.

So, last night, when The Weed took her for a walk and there was a plumber's van parked in the driveway. Yep. You guessed it. She sang the song of her people At A Van.

It's not just other dogs or people that set her off. There is the aforementioned plumber's van; trash cans; shadows; blinking lights; cars, both foreign and domestic; large piles of snow; squirrels; bunnies; some birds, not geese though…Go figure.

We have been given guidance about how to help Layla during this phase. The dog trainer also counseled us that we're now living with an adolescent. She will have good days and bad. She will have good weeks and bad. She will be moody. She will need to have a quiet, trusted place to relax.

To help Layla when we are on walks, we are to be well armed with treats. We should try to walk at times when she won't encounter scary triggers. However, if we do come across something scary, we should allow her to engage/acknowledge the scary thing and then encourage her to disengage/move on/ignore the scary thing.

Basically, let her be startled but then encourage her by reassuring her that we're with her. She's safe. This is just everyday life. Here's a bunch of treats. Please for the love of all that is holy, stop barking.

We're also supposed to do all of this while staying calm. This is not easy. Trust me.

In working on all of this, The Weed and I have noticed a lot of other people, dog owners specifically, have no real appreciation for our teenaged dog fear fitting around the neighborhood.

For example, it's not wise to cross the street and try to immediately engage us in conversation about how difficult it is to raise well-socialized, adjusted dogs these days. Layla will scream you into submission.

Additionally, just stopping and staring at us is most unhelpful. Please move along. We're trying to have our canine meltdowns with as little fanfare as possible.

Please also do not run by us. Dear lord! Do. Not.

Please do not stop and try to pet Layla into liking you. Again, she will use her voice. Loudly.

Please do not walk up behind us and clear your throat. Are you looking to suffer some serious ankle biting, bro?

Finally, if driving by us, please do not slam on your brakes in the middle of the street and strike up conversation. Layla will wake the dead as you try to be nice and social.

So, to sum up, you probably won't be seeing much of The Weed and me for the next eight to 10 months because we have an adolescent dog who is really, really frightened of the world around her.

If you need to reach us, we're likely walking the dogs in a nearby church parking lot, throwing expensive treats on the ground to appease the adolescent dog and as a peace offering to any benevolent being that can help us through the terrible teens.