Someone who loves an ill-reputed dog breed will jump to its defense.

Someone who loves Shiba Inus usually does the exact opposite. Their favorite dog doesn’t have a public relations problem.

It needs one.

Most people who look at these dogs see a cute, surprisingly soulful dog – especially since they’ve become a viral web sensation. But the people who own them know they’re no walk in the park.

“Our club is trying to increase public education about the breed because, quite honestly, they’re not the breed for everyone,” said Kim Hoberg, a Shiba breeder and president of the National Shiba Club of America.

If owners aren’t prepared to implement a strict training regimen, Hoberg said, Shibas are “the devil in disguise.”

So thank heaven for Masako Yamamoto. When Southern California Shiba Inus find their way to animal shelters, the dogs sometimes end up in Long Beach with her, where she sends them to more Shiba-ready homes.

Yamamoto runs Saving Shibas, one of a handful of Shiba Inu rescues in the U.S. Her tiny nonprofit picked up 18 of the dogs last year from animal shelters as far away as San Diego and Las Vegas.

Yamamoto said owning the Japanese breed isn’t for everyone, but for her it’s worth the howling, the digging and the antisocial behavior.

“I love all dogs and I’ve had many other breeds, but there’s something – I think the most rewarding part is when you actually get a tough cookie and you’re able to make it appreciate you and be loyal,” she said. “That’s the crème de la crème. You’ve cracked the hardest nut.”

WOLF IN DOG CLOTHING

Let’s say someone buys a cute and playful Shiba that’s allowed indulgences like jumping up on the couch. They don’t socialize the dog to make it comfortable around strangers and strange dogs – “five new places a week, 50 new faces a week is the rule,” according to Yamamoto.

This Shiba gets older and acts aloof or mischievous. Scolding doesn’t work, and in fact it seems like she doesn’t care what her owner thinks anymore.

After a year or two, the owner decides this isn’t what they signed up for and they give the dog up. Lots of the dogs Yamamoto takes in through Saving Shibas are “owner surrenders.” Other dogs, which aren’t socialized properly, might nip at toddlers.

“They start to see you as an equal,” Yamamoto said.

Saving Shibas is one of about 16 active rescue groups in the country that connect abandoned or stray Shiba Inus with foster homes, according to fundraising group Shiba Prom.

Shiba Prom is solely involved with this breed because, once in a shelter, the dog can require special treatment, according to Chairwoman Martha Silver.

These dogs are often antisocial and bear pain quietly, she said. A Shiba that’s scared or nursing a wound or a sore might quickly make a bad name for itself at the pound.

“Rather than deciding that the negative behaviors make the animal less desirable for adoption and placed on a list for euthanization, the staff call a Shiba Inu rescue and allow them to evaluate the dog,” Silver said in an email.

There’s a good reason why Shibas aren’t naturally a sit-and-stay type of dog. Their genes are more similar to wolves’ than any other common breed, according to a National Geographic article from 2012.

It’s not that Shibas are impossible to own or train – it’s just that you need to contend with their instinct for hunting and pack behavior.

“You have to be a strong alpha owner. They will test you, sometimes they won’t take no for an answer. You have to constantly stay on them – ‘no, no, no, no’ – until they get it,” Hoberg said.

TRAINING IS CONSTANT

The difference between a trained Shiba and a newly rescued foster was clear on a recent walk with Kokomo, a rescue, and Yamamoto’s own pack of three Shibas: Bravo, Winnie and Yumi.

Yamamoto had plucked Kokomo out of a San Diego animal shelter in December. The roughly 5-year-old stray acted like many other dogs in a park, yipping and pulling on his leash when he wanted to do something.

His boisterous behavior would have seemed nearly normal if not for the preternatural calm of the three more settled dogs. They hardly made a peep besides a bit of scratching at the dirt, and even that was snuffed out with a tsk from Yamamoto. The dogs seemed content to gaze into the distance like wizened sailors looking for land.

This sense of harnessed energy is apparently typical for trained Shibas, which often remind people of foxes and cats. Yamamoto is an old hand at fostering that respect, which you have to earn, she said.

Her experience with Shibas goes back 28 years, when her father picked up two dropped off near LAX after an international flight.

“It was on Mother’s Day. How could I forget?” said Chieko Yamamoto, Masako’s mom and the dogs’ caretaker when Masako is at her day job.

Masako Yamamoto realizes “it really could have been a bad, bad situation” because they didn’t know what they were getting into. Luckily, the family’s sheltie and Russian wolfhound took those Shibas under their wings.

Yamamoto started fostering Shibas five years ago when a local rescue that knew she was interested in them called and asked her if she would try it. She did and kept at it, funding expensive surgeries through crowdsourcing site Indiegogo, until she filed for 501(c)3 status in 2011.

Now Yamamoto receives support from the corporate stewardship program at her employer, Toyota, as well as Shiba Prom and others. The money pays for food, veterinary bills, travel expenses and anything else that can come up.

But Saving Shibas comes with a pretty great reward. One of Yamamoto’s three dogs, the serene Yumi, is adopted. She had the 12-year-old for two years and she’s as sweet as can be.

More than that, though, Yamamoto gets the sense from her and other dogs she’s rescued, even two or three years after sending them off with another experienced owner, that the dogs are grateful.

“Some of them really seem to understand that you’ve saved them,” Yamamoto said. “They have this great appreciation towards you.”

Contact the writer: 714-796-2390 or aklein@ocregister.com