Good Dog: Behavior & Training
Where does it begin?
Imagine this: a purse falls off a chair in the vicinity of two seven-month-old puppies. Terrified, one of the puppies refuses to go anywhere near it. Her sister takes a look, gives it a quick sniff and then leaps over it and goes on her merry way. Scenarios like this happen every day to Holly and Kit, the Border Collie/Beagle mixed-breed pups adopted by the editor of The Bark a few months ago.
Rescued from a shelter in Kentucky early this year, littermates Holly and Kit have been in their new home in northern California for several months now. As far as is known, the pups’ first five months of life were less than ideal; they seem to have lived outside on their own and had little contact with people. Not surprisingly, they arrived at their new home timid and shy. Since then, Kit has come out of her shell, romping happily around local off-leash parks with her “big sister,” Lola. Holly is a different story; she is sweet and loving at home, but extremely skittish in other contexts. But even at home, small changes in the environment—like a purse falling from a chair—overwhelm her.
That sisters would behave differently isn’t shocking to any of us with siblings or children, or anyone who has watched one puppy battle through life while a littermate calmly accepts whatever comes her way. We all know that sisters and brothers, whether human or canine, are not clones. No matter how similar the upbringing, minor differences in siblings’ genetic make-up account for major differences in behavior. But beyond that, what do we know about what influences a dog’s approach to life? What’s new in our understanding of the ontogeny of fear? In particular, what can make a fearful dog like Holly so different from her more outgoing sister?
Genetic Blueprints. The answer begins, of course, in the genetic make-up of each dog, which is unique to that individual. After all, the point of sexual reproduction—an inefficient and messy process (genetically speaking)—is variation. Each parent contributes one strand of DNA to the double helix that makes up each chromosome, and the strands link up in unique ways each time a new life is created. Thus, every individual is the result of a unique combination of genes. In an environment with a range of conditions—perhaps a drought one year and floods the next—genetic variation ups the odds that some individuals will survive even if others perish, thus ensuring continuation of at least some individuals of their particular species.
This variation isn’t news to dog lovers—we are all well acquainted with canine physical variation, from flat-nosed Pugs to skinny-muzzled Salukis. This genetically mediated variation is equally true of behavioral predispositions. According to research done over the last 30 years on personality, one of the most heritable behavioral characteristics relates to the behavior of Holly and Kit. What is now called the “shy-bold continuum” has been found to be a relatively stable aspect of personality in rhesus macaques, cattle, people and dogs (to name a few). It appears as though different points on the “shy-bold” spectrum are advantageous at different times. For example, primatologist Steve Suomi has found that in some conditions, shy male rhesus macaques have higher reproductive success than bold ones. The shy males wait longer to leave their natal troops, and thus arrive at a new troop larger and better able to hold their own when challenged by established males. (But sometimes it helps to be brave and bold; what if there are only a few troops in the area and the bold monkeys become established in them before the shy ones venture forth?)
One can easily imagine how, in some contexts, the progenitors of domestic dogs were best served by boldness (being the first to venture near a human settlement) or by caution and timidity (letting a littermate be the one to go play with that big, fuzzy animal that humans call lions). What is not clear yet is how much of a dog’s physical appearance is linked to behavioral tendencies. Holly looks more like a Border Collie than does her sister Kit and, in general, we know that shyness is relatively common in many of the herding breeds. Could there be a link between looks and personality?
Starter Houses. Beyond an understanding of the role of genetics, research is increasingly focused on the effect of in-utero experiences on the development and, ultimately, the health and behavior of an individual. Until recently, our developmental considerations have focused on the influence of genetics and the environment during “early development”—the old nature/nurture argument, as it were. The period we defined as “early development” began at birth and followed an animal through infancy, childhood, adolescence and adulthood. However, new information has alerted us to the important influence of in-utero experiences, an environment we’ve never before considered as having an affect on an adult animal. Much of the research I’ll mention here was done on humans, but there is no biological reason to not generalize it to canids.
In general, the influence of a mother’s experience on her fetus is profound: her sleep pattern teaches the developing child about the cycle of day and night. Her food preferences influence her baby’s after birth. If the mother is seriously deprived of food, her infant will be predisposed to diabetes and high cholesterol as an adult. Most relevant to a fearful puppy, a mother suffering from extreme anxiety puts her offspring at high risk of being anxious and fearful, even as an adult. Apparently, high levels of the stress hormone cortisol produced by the mother result in fewer cortisol receptor cells in the pup (or child or monkey, etc.). This low number of receptor cells means that the pup’s brain is unable to perceive and respond to high levels of cortisol in his own body until the system is overloaded with it. Then the brain goes on red alert, sending the emotions into full panic mode, even in situations that would be only mildly stressful for an average individual.
In addition to the significant influence of a mother’s influence on her young, we also know now that the experience of each individual within the uterus is different. Minor differences in nutrients, for example, have long been known to be a factor in major differences in the size and health of animals within a litter. Even genetic clones—identical twins for example—aren’t behaviorally identical. Though they may look alike, they usually have remarkably different personalities. Since they developed with the same set of genes, only in-utero experiences can account for their behavioral differences. Developmental psychologists are learning that for twins, development in the womb is a kind of dance between the two that, by the time they are born, has shaped their personalities.
Another example of the influence of in-utero development is what’s called “androgenization.” In this phenomenon, females in a litter are permanently affected by the androgen produced by male puppies surrounding them within the uterine horns. Androgen is the precursor to testosterone, and females who are “bathed” in it, perhaps because of their placement between a large number of males, tend to behave differently than other females once they develop into adults. Androgenized females behave more like males, sometimes have enlarged gentalia and are often more aggressive to same-sex individuals.
And so, even prior to birth, profoundly different experiences could have shaped Holly and Kit. The combination of different genetic blueprints and different experiences inside the womb resulted in two dogs with very different personalities and tolerances. Even though they have grown up together, those beginnings mean that a similar environment will affect them in different ways as they continue to develop. Holly will probably always be more cautious than Kit, because much of who she is was established before she was born. This is not to say that shy little Holly can’t become more comfortable at the dog park—or with runaway purses—but it does remind us how and why every dog is a unique creation and special in her own way. And special they are, every one of them.
Good luck, Holly … we’re rooting for you!
News: Karen B. London
Some dogs do, but some don’t
A man had broken his back after a fall and was found on the side of his road with a dog who was unwilling to leave his side. That’s the sort of loyalty dogs are famous for, and many dogs live up to this high standard. There are countless examples of dogs who stayed with a person in a crisis situation, providing protection, warmth or simply company.
On the other hand, there are dogs who aren’t as likely to stick around in an emergency. Some panic and bolt. Others consider the unusual situation to be a great opportunity for some freedom and take advantage of it. There are dogs who become distracted by a squirrel or by a smell just begging to be investigated. From time to time, there are dogs who actively go to seek help.
I am convinced that most of the dogs in my life would stay with me if I fell or was injured in some way. I’ve also loved a dog who was fearful enough that I deep down felt it was 50-50 whether he would come through for me in a real disaster. Of course, developing a strong relationship with any dogs makes them more likely to act admirably in an unexpected situation, but some dogs are just more naturally inclined to do so.
Do you have dogs who have stayed with you in a crisis or dogs who have not? Of the dogs who have never (thankfully) been tested by such a situation, what’s your best guess about how they would behave?
News: Guest Posts
We need more research to really know so right now we should keep the door open
(This post is a response to Which Emotions Do Dogs Actually Experience? by Stanley Coren, Ph.D., F.R.S.C.)
Dogs are amazing nonhuman animal beings (animals) and anyone who's known a dog knows this. Just today Dr. Stanley Coren published a very interesting essay called "Which Emotions Do Dogs Actually Experience?" and concluded, among other things:
"However, we know that the assortment of emotions available to the dog will not exceed that which is available to a human who is two to two-and-a-half years old. This means that a dog will have all of the basic emotions: joy, fear, anger, disgust and even love. However a dog will not have those more complex emotions like guilt, pride and shame." (After an email exchange with Dr. Coren about my response to his essay, he modified his conclusion to read, "However based on current research it seems likely that your dog will not have those more complex emotions like guilt, pride and shame.")While this conclusion is extremely interesting, it remains a hypothesis in that the necessary research has not really been done. So, until the detailed research is conducted we don't really know "that the assortment of emotions available to the dog will not exceed that which is available to a human who is two to two-and-a-half years old."
We also don't know if dogs experience guilt, pride, and shame. However, because it's been claimed that other mammals with whom dogs share the same neural bases for emotions do experience guilt, pride, and shame and other complex emotions (see also and and), there's no reason why dogs cannot. And, there's solid biological/evolutionary reasons to assume dogs can and do. Recall Charles Darwin's ideas about evolutionary continuity in which the differences among species are seen to be variations in degree rather than kind - "If we have or experience something, 'they' (other animals) do too."
Do dogs feel guilt?
One more point needs to be made concerning doggy guilt. Consider the research conducted by Alexandra Horowitz, author of Inside of a Dog and Psychology Today writer. As I noted in a previous essay called "The Genius of Dogs and The Hidden Life of Wolves", Dr. Horowitz's research is often misinterpreted. For example, in their book titled The Genius of Dogs: How Dogs Are Smarter than You Think, Brian Hare and Vanessa Woods consider Dr. Horowitz's research on doggy guilt (pp. 183ff). They write that Horowitz "conducted an experiment to see whether dogs can feel guilty" but they misinterpreted just what Dr. Horowitz was actually trying to do. Her research did indeed show that people were not all that good at reading guilt in their dog, however her data do not show that dogs cannot feel guilt. I frequently hear people say that Dr. Horowitz's project showed dogs cannot feel guilt and this is not so (please see Dr. Horowitz's comment about this error).
Let's keep the door open about the emotional lives of dogs and other animals and also extend a hearty thanks to Dr. Coren for once again writing a very interesting and stimulating essay.
Note: One can also question the value of comparing young humans with other animals. I don't find these comparisons to be especially compelling and other researchers have agreed that they are fraught with difficulties as are many cross-species comparisons concerning the cognitive and emotional capacities of individuals of different species. In a previous essay I wrote, "Animals do what they need to do to be card-carrying members of their species and we need to remember that numerous nonhuman animals outperform us in many different ways." Of course we are exceptional in various arenas as are other animals. Perhaps we should replace the notion of human exceptionalism with species or individual exceptionalism, a move that will force us to appreciate other animals for who they are, not who or what we want them to be.
News: Karen B. London
Coming home to destruction
Leaving a dog alone and unconfined at home works out beautifully for millions of families. People leave to go to work, and return to find a dog who is pleased to see them and a house that is exactly as it was in the morning. However, the experience of coming home to a dog who is pleased to see them AND mass destruction is hardly unusual either.
Often this has happened unexpectedly since steps were taken to prevent such trouble. There are many dogs who struggle to handle the responsibility of freedom in the house and are usually confined, but that’s not always foolproof. Sometimes a dog figures out how to open the door to the laundry room. Other dogs jump a gate that was thought to be too tall. In other cases, there is confusion within the family, with each thinking someone else had put the dog in the proper place for the day. True Houdini dogs seem to be able to break out of crates or other means of confinement, no matter how secure they may seem.
Sometimes the mess that dogs make is a result of thinking that a puppy or adolescent dog has put destructive chewing behind them. Though they do quite well for several days or weeks, one day, they are back to their old habits. For some dogs, a thunderstorm or other anxiety-causing event can trigger bouts of chewing and mayhem. Dogs who are unable to tolerate time alone may cause destruction because they are literally in a panic about being separated from the family, and they are just not themselves in that emotional state. (Such dogs need help to overcome this issue and it’s best not to leave them alone until they are emotionally capable of handling being left alone.)
Sometimes the destruction occurs because something way too tempting has been left within reach. Even dogs who normally allow the house and everything in it to remain undisturbed will chew something amazing just because it’s there. I know of dogs who, understandably, have been unable to resist appetizing steak bones in the garbage, a leather belt and pair of shoes that are usually in the closet, wooden salad tongs that were left to dry by the sink but slipped off onto the floor, and a new couch cushion just begging to have the stuffing ripped out of it.
Over the years, most dog owners have come home to destruction of clothes, food, and furniture, or even a good old-fashioned trash party. What’s the worst mess you’ve ever come home to courtesy of your dog?
Good Dog: Behavior & Training
More than just noise
A friend suggested that one of the reasons we love dogs so much is that they can’t talk back. But I wonder whether that’s true. Sure, a dog won’t tell you, “You really shouldn’t have that second cookie,” but does that mean dogs are not talking back?
Dogs are anything but mute, and while we usually focus on wagging tails and beguiling eyes, vocalizations—among them, barks and growls—provide us with another window into dogs’ everyday experiences.
Social species are known to be much noisier than animals who lead solitary lives. Snow leopards roam the mountains of central Asia in near silence, but groups of monkeys do a lot of highvolume chattering. So, given that dogs and their wild progenitor, the wolf, are über-social, it’s no surprise that both produce a wide range of vocalizations: they bark, whine, whimper, howl, huff, growl, yelp and yip (among other nuanced sounds). From the earliest moments of their lives, dogs and their canid relatives produce tonal yelps and whines, and atonal barks and grunts appear in the fi rst few weeks of life in conjunction with the onset of social behavior.
There’s a big difference between the bark of an adult dog and that of an adult wolf, however. Dogs seem to play every instrument in the orchestra, hitting the highs of the flute and the lows of the tuba, sometimes with the duration of a Wagnerian opera. Plus, there seems to be no context in which a dog won’t bark: They bark when alone and with other dogs. Some bark before, during and even after a ball is thrown. A car goes by or the doorbell rings and barking ensues. In contrast, wolves bark less frequently and in fewer contexts, primarily for warning or defense.
Meanings Behind the Message
That being said, research that has been conducted on the subject is incredibly insightful. Take growls, which, it has been shown, dogs use to accurately judge another dog’s size. How in the world do we know that? Tamás Faragó, PhD, and his colleagues at the Family Dog Project at Eötvös Loránd University in Budapest (familydogproject.elte.hu) presented dogs with two images of the same dog: one was true to size and another was 30 percent larger or smaller. Dogs then listened to a pre-recorded growl, and most dogs looked at the image of the full-size dog rather than the altered image.
Growls appear to be meaningful in other ways as well. In another study, Faragó and his colleagues used some clever trickery to explore how dogs respond to growls recorded in different situations. In an apparently empty room, a dog was allowed to approach a bone. Unbeknownst to the dog, there was a speaker hidden behind the bone, and as the dog approached, the sound of a “play growl,” a “stranger-approaching” growl or a “food-guarding” growl was transmitted through it. Dogs were likely to take the bone when hearing the “stranger-approaching” or “play” growl, but the food-guarding “my bone” growl deterred them. Even though the foodguarding and stranger-approaching growls sound quite similar (at least, to our ears), they prompted different behavior.
Many studies investigating vocalizations are based on prerecorded samples, but it is important to remember that vocalizations and visual signals usually go hand-in-hand. In the strangerapproaching context, dogs growled with closed mouths, whereas in fooddefense situations, they showed their teeth and pulled back their lips.
While we tend to take notice when we hear a growl, we often dismiss barking as meaningless noise, as though it is simply an item on a dog’s daily checklist: “Take a walk, have breakfast, bark.” Before the turn of the century, that was the prevailing view among researchers and theorists. At most, barking was thought to result from social facilitation— one dog barking prompts other dogs to bark—or maybe attentionseeking, or even rivalry or defense.
Only recently have researchers begun to investigate whether barks produced in different contexts vary in their acoustic parameters (such as tone and pitch). Scientists theorized that if— like growls—barks displayed consistent differences, they might have a more specific communicative function, perhaps even be associated with a dog’s internal motivational or emotional state. For example, some barks might convey aggression while others might convey friendliness.
In one early study, Sophia Yin, DVM, MS, recorded a variety of breeds barking in response to different situations: a stranger ringing the doorbell (“disturbance barks”), separated from an owner (“isolation barks”) and play. Yin found that the barks did indeed have different acoustic properties. Disturbance barks were harsher and lower in pitch with little amplitude modulation, while isolation and play barks were pitched higher and had greater tonal and higher frequency and a wider range of amplitude modulation. More recent studies confirm that dog barks follow particular patterns. For example, a dog barking at a stranger sounds very different from a dog barking before going on a walk. But do these vocalizations carry meaning? They do for dogs. When dogs in one study listened to barks recorded in a new context or from a new dog, they gave more attention to the unfamiliar bark. This suggests that dogs can detect that some barks are different from others, though scientists are still exploring ways to determine how exactly they perceive and process that information. Humans, too, can decipher barks. Whether or not they’re experienced with dogs, people are quite good at classifying barks into their appropriate contexts and attributing them to perceived emotional states. After listening to randomly played recordings, people describe isolation barks as full of despair, while barks from a play session are said to be happy. Our ability to do this starts early; by age 10, children are able to assign different-sounding barks to the correct context. Today, we can distinguish the acoustic properties of certain barks so accurately that we’re able to program computers to categorize them (which confirms that computers will one day take over the earth; personally, I hope Ryan Gosling will be there to save us).
Recognizing the Patterns
A recent publication by Kathryn Lord, PhD, offers an additional take on why dogs bark. She and colleague Ray Coppinger, PhD, investigated the contexts in which other species use barklike sounds: “When other species emit their version of a bark, they are usually in some sort of conf licting situation. For example, an animal is at a nest or den and observes some sort of threat. Customarily, the animal would run, but because of its situation, it can’t, so it barks. We think [that] when dogs bark, they are making these sounds in association with an alert or an internal motivational state of conflict.”
In a sense, Lord and Coppinger argue that “conflicted” should be dogs’ middle name. They suggest that dogs bark in so many different situations because they often find themselves conflicted: they are in the house and want to go out, they are out and want to come in. And it may be that, through the process of domestication itself, dogs have become more prone to put themselves in these sorts of situations. In comparison with wolves, dogs have a substantially decreased f light distance; something can easily get too close before the dog feels conf licted about how to respond.
Udell suggests that barking doesn’t have to be whittled down to one simple explanation. “If you look at communication and vocalizations in a wide range of species, it usually isn’t about one thing. Chickadees have ‘alert’ calls, but they also have songs, and the songs themselves can mean different things in different contexts. I think the same could hold true for dogs.”
But genes aren’t everything. As Susan Friedman, PhD, a pioneer in the application of applied behavior analysis to captive and companion animals and a psychology professor at Utah State University, explains, “While Shih Tzus as a group tend to display less barking than Miniature Poodles, that doesn’t mean barking in Miniature Poodles is impervious to change. And I’ve certainly known individual Miniature Poodles who are quiet and individual Shih Tzus who are barky, both based on their current situations. The individual always bests any generalization.”
Dr. Yin’s study of dog barks concurs. Even within breeds, she found variations in who barked and when. Rudy and Siggy, 11-year-old German Shorthaired Pointers, both barked in the disturbance context, but when alone, Rudy did not bark and Siggy had lots to say.
The effects of the social environment on dog behavior can be important because sometimes, dogs just go with the flow. On The Bark’s Facebook page, Bev Morey of Kansas commented, “After attending day care each afternoon, my Weimaraner now barks at anything and everything. So annoying.”
“So annoying” is one of the challenges of barking. While all vocalizations, including barking, are generally seen as normal elements of dog behavior, barking is one of dogs’ less-appreciated attributes. According to Laura Monaco Torelli, CPDT-KA, KPA CTP, director of training at Animal Behavior Training Concepts in Chicago, “Barking can be especially challenging for those in urban settings, as they live in close quarters with neighbors.” Owners of barking dogs might receive dirty looks or formal complaints from neighbors, and enough complaints can lead to eviction.
Though dogs bark for any reason under the sun, barking is a construct of context, genes and environment, and so is flexible. For example, feral dogs are much less noisy than their counterparts who play with toys, sleep in beds and go to obedience class.
Friedman explains. “For dogs, barking is a functional behavior, meaning it is maintained, increased or decreased due to consequences. Once this is [understood], it opens the door to changing the duration, intensity and frequency of the behavior by changing the consequences.” In other words, dogs can learn to be quieter.
However, perfect quiet is probably unrealistic. Owners can’t always control the stimuli that prompt barking, especially if they’re not home 24/7. Moreover, barking that has been solidified and maintained over time through intermittent reinforcement has a lot of staying power. “It seems that owners unintentionally reinforce the barks produced when a dog is around food or toys, and these become the begging barks of that dog,” says Faragó.
Monaco Torelli agrees. “If a dog learns that the noise in the hallway goes away when he barks, barking becomes an effective behavior. Barking is followed by the consequence of the noise in the hallway stopping.”
Owners should focus not on eliminating barking altogether, but on reducing it to levels they find appropriate and livable. When she meets with clients to discuss their dogs’ barking issues, Monaco Torelli asks questions such as, “How many barks is okay? What’s excessive to you?” This, she says, gives the trainer a good starting point from which to develop a plan to teach the client how to reshape a dog’s barking behavior. Trainers and owners discuss acceptable barking, and then implement techniques to achieve desired levels in each context.
Friedman shares the way she manages her own dog’s barking: “We live in the country, and when we let the dogs out, they bark at the deer for a number of seconds. Then we say, ‘That’s enough, thank you,’ and they are quiet and we praise them.” She adds, “It’s a [mistake] to think that barking is the problem. The real problem is that dogs don’t stop barking when we ask.”
So-called “quick fixes” can make barking worse, particularly if the underlying reason for the behavior isn’t addressed. “Putting an anti-bark collar on a fearful dog is unlikely to decrease barking if the consequence [shock or spray] increases the dog’s fear. If the fear increases, barking could as well,” explains Marylandbased Mary Huntsberry, MA, ACAAB.
Strategies for Change
Barking can be managed and modified, so if you want to influence your dog’s vocal style, it helps to start early and be observant. Teaching dogs the boundaries of acceptable vocalizations from an early age will pay off for everyone; when dogs are young, barking might be cute, but as they age, the cute factor tends to wear off. If the behavior is already in place, there are ways to alter it, Huntsberry observes. “It helps to do a functional analysis. During an extensive interview, I identify what happens immediately before (antecedent) and after (consequence) the unwanted behavior so I can identify the trigger and what maintains it.”
Monaco Torelli focuses her attention on the dog-human relationship. “When owners are frustrated by their dog’s behavior, we show them some immediate training goals and success points so they see that their dog can do what they want them to be doing, instead of what they don’t want them to do. This helps them rebuild their bond with their dog.”
The takeaway message is that barking is a nuanced and flexible behavior, and relationships can grow by paying attention to what your dog’s vocalizations mean. And if you’re on a post-holiday diet and want to train your dog to bark incessantly whenever you make a move for another slice of cake, well, that’s just good teamwork.
News: Karen B. London
He was polite, not unskilled
While dog sitting a big Chocolate Lab, I noticed that when we humans went upstairs, he stayed at the bottom of the steps. He had that, “What about poor me?” look about him, and I assumed he was not comfortable with stairs. Perhaps he had no experience with them, or a bad experience had made him nervous about them. There are a lot of dogs who don’t like stairs, and I assumed Bear was one of them.
Except for running up to get something, we mainly use the upstairs for sleeping. As his giant crate was downstairs (it’s too big for our bedrooms!) I didn’t consider it a problem. He was not going to be left out of our activities because of it, and he would be sleeping in his crate anyway, so I didn’t give it much thought.
My main interest in the situation was that he looked so dear standing at the bottom of the staircase looking at us longingly that I wanted to take some pictures of him. I took one, and then he wandered away from the spot. Hoping to encourage him to come back so I could continue with the photo session, I quietly smooched.
His response was to run up the stairs immediately and greet me with enthusiasm. (When I say “enthusiasm” I’m sure everybody can picture what I mean, because who among us has not been on the receiving end of such a canine greeting?) It was just as effortless for him to go down the stairs as to go up. This is not a dog who has any issues with stairs.
My assumption about his ability to negotiate stairs was completely off the mark. It turns out that his reticence to climb them was rooted in good manners rather than a lack of skill. He had not been invited to go upstairs, so he did not go upstairs. When he heard me smooch, he took it as an invitation and he considered himself welcome upstairs. He has since been my shadow every time I go up or down.
News: Karen B. London
Dog slightly hurt and very afraid
The dog was running away as fast as he could from what scared him, but unfortunately, he couldn’t get away from it. That’s because he was running away from his extendable leash, and it was still attached to him. The dog had hit the end of the leash and pulled hard enough to jerk the handle from his guardian’s hand. The handle had come flying towards him as the leash fed back into it at top speed and the internal mechanism broke. He became more and more terrified as the “monster” first charged him and then continued to come after him. Despite his speed, he was unable to escape.
His guardian was eventually able to catch him, and remove the leash. He did have a cut where the handle had hit him hard, but that healed quickly, thankfully. Though the dog calmed down considerably once he was no longer being “attacked” by his own leash, the dog’s serious fright would have lasting consequences. Like most dogs, he used to associate the leash with the happiness and fun of going on a walk or a run, but now he associated it with being afraid.
To help a dog in this situation, I recommend switching to a standard 6-foot leash and a new collar, and associating them with treats, toys, and walks from the first time the dog sees them and they are put on. The goal is to avoid transferring any of the negative feelings associated with the old leash and collar, and make a complete switch to another system that only ever has happy feelings associated with it.
I’ve seen quite a few dogs who have had a bad experience when an extendable leash was pulled out of the hand of the person holding it, and I also know that some dogs enjoy the freedom of them. What do you think about extendable leashes based on your experiences with them?
News: Karen B. London
Dogs help tidy up
Between the muddy paws, the dog hair, the gooey toys and the drool, it’s easy to argue that dogs create a certain challenge to cleanliness. I know of only a few dog guardians whose homes are in the kind of shape that makes them look like magazine spreads on decorating. At some point, most of us just throw up our hands and decide that this is how we live. Except for special occasions, we are okay with that, and proceed peacefully with our lives.
Yet to blame our dogs for the messes in our homes is to miss part of what’s actually going on. Many dogs do a lot of cleaning up for us, but we don’t tend to notice that until we are away from them for a while. A friend recently told me that he dropped a piece of chicken on the ground at his parent’s house and his mom was appalled when he made no move to pick it up.
He apologized and took care of it, but did explain that at home, if he’s making chicken salad and a bit hits the ground, one of his dogs will eat it up. Problem solved. The same goes for most foods—steak, cheese, green beans—as well as crushed ice, which regularly drops from their broken ice dispenser. It doesn’t melt and make a puddle on the floor because his dogs are way too quick to let that happen. If something falls to the floor that the dogs can’t have such as the entire steak they plan to eat that night or something bad for them like chocolate or onions, a calm “leave it” tells the dogs that even though it’s on the floor, it is not fair game.
What does your dog clean up off the floor, saving you the trouble?
News: Karen B. London
Don’t wait until it’s too late
It makes me tremendously happy to look at photos of dogs from my past. As I get older, I make more of an effort to capture expressions, behavior and moments that I know I’ll want to see even after the dog is gone. It’s easy to assume that I could never forget certain images that seem seared into my brain, but experience has taught me that to rely completely on my memory is a gamble.
I have many photos of my dog Bugsy and I cherish each one. I love the photos of him playing with his best buddies, holding a toy, cocking his head at me in the way that he did so often, lying down next to my young son as a baby, running with both my husband and with me, waiting at the door, looking longingly out the front window, tugging with me, heeling with my husband, and jumping straight up in the air with all four paws several feet off the ground.
The one picture I really wish that I had of him is with his lip stuck and curled up on the side of his teeth—not in an aggressive way, but just in a disorganization-of-the-face kind of way. Many dogs have their lip assume that undignified position from time to time, but it happened to Bugsy so often that I think of him every time I see a dog whose lip is stuck to his teeth in a random spot. It’s not the most attractive expression, but I find it especially endearing because of Bugsy. The closest I have is a photo of Bugsy chewing on a greenie in which his upper lip is puffed out. It’s a photo I like because it shows how shiny his coat always was, but it fails to capture the expression I remember so well.
I encourage everyone to be sure to take photos of their dogs doing all those day-to-day things—eating, playing with a toy, sleeping, standing at the door eager to go out—as well as those visual images unique to your dog. In my case, I missed that opportunity with Bugsy in one way, and I regret it. If your dog puts his head on the bed in the morning, holds three toys in her mouth at once, stretches in a particular way, waves with a front paw or sleeps in a position that defies description, that’s what you should be sure to capture in photos. It’s pictures of dogs being uniquely themselves that are most precious to me than the ones in which they look the most beautiful.
What pictures are you so grateful to have of a departed dog and which pictures do you regret never taking?
News: Karen B. London
To a dog, it’s all for fun
I went outside with Bear, the super-sized chocolate lab who was staying with us for the weekend, and it was immediately apparent that we had different goals. My plan was to collect some firewood and bring it inside. Bear may not have had any plans ahead of time, but as soon as he saw the stacks and stacks of firewood, he developed an idea based on his response to seeing the wood pile. His response was, “So many toys, so little time,” and his idea was apparently to enjoy as many sticks as possible.
As I pulled my first log off the pile, Bear did the same, choosing a small piece that was intended to be used in starting the fire. I tossed mine in the canvas log carrier, Bear took his over to an undisturbed patch of snow and began to chew on it. I interrupted my wood collecting for a game of fetch with Bear. I tossed his stick over and over, and each time, he dug it out of the powdery snow. Every once in a while, he would deposit the stick by my feet, but instead of waiting for me to throw it, he went to the wood pile to select a new, presumably better, stick. This went on until I decided to go back to my original collecting duties.
Soon I decided that it would be fun to take a picture of Bear removing a stick from the pile, and this is when it became clear that we were working at cross purposes. Bear was busy chewing on a couple of his favorite new sticks, but I was cold and ready to go inside. Rather than wait until the next time he decided to select a new stick, I attempted to hurry things along.
Multiple times, I attempted to chuck a stick of the size he seemed to prefer onto the pile so that he would retrieve it and I could capture that moment with my camera. Each time, he caught the stick in mid-air, which was quite an impressive feat, but no good for my wish to photograph him removing a stick from the wood pile. After the first couple of attempts, I looked around to see my husband standing inside by the nearby sliding glass doors laughing. I joined him in finding it hilarious, and laughed, too. (I rarely fail to recognize when I am caught in the act of being ridiculous.)
I decided to wait until Bear was good and ready to choose a stick according to his own schedule, and that’s when I was able to photograph him with his selection. Have you ever been trying to get something done and found that since your dog thought it was a just a game, it took you far longer to accomplish?
Copyright © 1997-2016 The Bark, Inc. Dog Is My Co-Pilot® is a registered trademark of The Bark, Inc