work of dogs
Dog's Life: Lifestyle
EBay listing causes anger
No matter what you want to buy, eBay probably has it. Looking for an 1897 Pocket Kodak camera? What about a gold-plated mango fork? Or perhaps you seek a service dog vest about which the seller says, “Use this for your good puppy and take her shopping with you. May have to play blind or stupid, but you love your puppy.”
This listing, which is no longer up, angered many people. Those with disabilities or whose family members have disablities are offended by the suggestion that people should dishonestly claim that their pets are service dogs, when they are not specifically trained in that way. They are concerned about the harm this causes to people with disabilities. The legitimacy of all service animals comes into question when people try to pass off their dogs as service animals.
It can be difficult to know whether an individual dog is a service animal. There is not some simple way to identify them such as a government-issued identification card. Identification of a service animal or proof that an animal is in fact a service dog is not required in most cases, and a disabled person who is asked for proof of their animal’s qualifications or training does not have to provide it. (An exception is the airlines, which are able to request documentation or ask questions to verify that a dog is a service animal, under the Air Carrier Access Act.) If a person is asked to leave a business or denied service because they brought in a service animal, that person can file a legal complaint against the owner of the business for violating the Americans With Disabilities Act.
What do you think of the wording of the listing on eBay for a service dog vest? How do you feel about the apparently common practice of falsely claiming that a dog is a service dog?
News: Guest Posts
Part 2 of the “broken foot chronicles”
A post I wrote for the blog earlier this month, I'd been toying with sending my Seeing Eye dog back to Morristown while I recovered from my broken foot. I knew Harper would get regular workouts with Seeing Eye trainers in Morristown, but I also worried what a temporary move back to Seeing Eye School might do to Harper’s mental health. Not to mention mine.
A few days after that post was published, my husband Mike took Harper to a regularly scheduled vet visit. I’m the only one allowed to use my Seeing Eye dog on harness, so Mike walked Harper to the vet on leash, making him stop at every curb. I stayed home, slumped in front of my laptop with my cast up on the back of the couch.
Harper checked out fine. Except one thing. He’d gained five pounds. So it wasn’t just about our mental health anymore. Now my broken foot was affecting Harper’s physical health, too. I cut Harper’s food down from two cups to one-and-a-half cups a day and gave the Seeing Eye a call.
John Keane, Manager of Instruction & Training, said that, yes, I could send Harper back to the school for a while. “Our trainers could walk your dog every day, and, of course, Harper would perform for them,” he said. “But really, what would that get you, Beth?”
Not much, I admitted.
Just like cars that squeak or malfunction at home but perform perfectly at the mechanic’s, guide dogs are notorious for behaving well with instructors. It’s working at home that really matters.
While stuck at home together, I do a daily obedience routine with Harper. I’m the only one who feeds him. I give him his water. I groom him. I play with him. Mike takes Harper outside for walks, and when Mike is away, friends volunteer to help. But I’m always the one who calls Harper to the door, and I’m always the one who clips the leash to his collar before they head outside.
“We usually only have dogs come back for help if they’re having problems in traffic, problems that are so serious they can’t be solved at home,” John said. In that case, trainers might try to re-enact the traffic problem while the dog is there in Morristown, to see if they can remedy it, then bring the dog back and work with the team in the graduate’s home environment.
I’d been doing my best to get out with Harper a couple times a week, even with the boot cast. It’s a fine balance, and I hear my voice sounding a bit more stern when giving Harper commands—I can’t risk falling again. And you know, Harper responds!
“You never know,” I joked with John. “Maybe he’ll be even a better guide after getting all this time off!”
No joke, John said. “Harper wouldn’t be the first Seeing Eye dog we’ve worked with who improved after sitting out for a while.”
I told John I hadn’t noticed Harper having any problems with traffic on our few trips out together, and he was very happy to hear that. He assured me the Seeing Eye would send someone out to give us a refresher course once my foot is healed.
“Just be sure to let us know the minute you get any hint about when you might be out of the cast.” John is the guy in charge of scheduling home visits, and he wants to get mine on the calendar.
News: Guest Posts
Swim lessons, playing with a pal and a new tattoo
To say we’ve had a busy month is an understatement. I got my first and only tattoo (more on that in a second), while Caleb has been traveling, trekking and celebrating his first summer in style. Summer has officially arrived in Bend and that means one thing around our house—getting outside as much as possible, preferably near water. For Caleb this meant his first swim lesson. Mind you, Caleb’s been splashing around in the river and creek for months but he’d yet to learn to swim. So we took him to one of our favorite swimming holes for a lesson.
Most people assume a Labrador will jump right into the water and begin paddling, and occasionally it happens, but little Caleb is a bit of a cautious gent. I knew it would take some coaxing. While a dog may instinctively know how to swim that does not mean he wants to. Knowing Caleb, we took it slow and played along the water’s edge, splashing around until he was comfortable with his surroundings and didn’t show any indication of stress. Every few minutes, I’d step a little deeper into the water and call him to me, not wanting to disappoint his mum he’d cautiously step forward and before we knew it he was swimming. We paddled around for a while, got out, took a walk for a change of scenery, and came back for round two. Now we’ve got a full-fledged swimmer on our hands.
Since we spend a fair amount of our summer in and on the water it’s important Caleb knows he can swim but that does not mean he can charge into water upon sight. He’s still got to maintain his ability to resist the urge to fling himself into the water, which is hard for a puppy, especially on a hot day. Needless to say, Caleb is just as happy to sit on the water in the canoe or kayak as he is to be swimming. Clearly being a cautious old soul has its benefits in this training exercise.
Thanks to the holiday activities and strange summer weather patterns, Caleb also got some experience with loud noises. Live music, fireworks and thunder have been very popular sounds around here. Knowing I’ve got a cautious old soul at the end of my leash, it’s very important that Caleb doesn’t experience a fearful or anxious reaction from me. Out for a walk one evening the sky erupted with a huge crack of thunder right above us, Caleb balked for a split second, looked at me and kept walking, on the next crack he simply looked up towards the sky and by the third installation he could have cared less. Without a reaction from me, there was clearly nothing to get worked up about. Never underestimate the energy that flows down the leash from you to your dog.
Another training exercise we’ve been able to work on is self-control. A slew of visitors, of the human and canine variety, have made home much more interesting for Caleb. Plus, we’ve had many new opportunities for socialization with more restaurants, movies and street fairs. We even volunteered at a half marathon.
Most of the time our household is pretty quiet—just the three of us, doing our routine. To mix it up, we had another Guide Dog puppy-in-training visit for a week. Suddenly, the humans no longer outnumbered the canines, it was going to be nuts. I expected chaos but all in all it went very well. With a schedule and routine there was little room for negotiating, the dogs could go from wrestling to relaxing with just one “that’s enough” command—impressive for a pair of boys whose combined age was not even a year! Vance was the first yellow Lab pup we’ve had in the house since Noah passed away; it was good to have some yellow fur around.
Speaking of my blonde bombshell, I had Noah’s paw print tattooed on my foot. A bit of the backstory: Before he passed away and before Jennifer Aniston made headlines with a tribute to her best dog, I said if I ever got a tattoo it would be Noah’s paw print on the bottom of my foot so he could take every step with me for the rest of my life. After he passed away, I told myself if a year went by and I still kept thinking about it was meant to be. Finally, I made the appointment and the evening before I was out on my paddleboard cruising up river for some exercise when I saw something floating in the water towards me. As it got closer I saw that it was an orange Kong on a rope—Noah’s favorite toy, the toy he carried on every walk and that we still have sitting in a bucket on our front porch. The next day, without a reservation, I got my tattoo.
Still to come this summer: a road trip to Montana and a road trip to Guide Dogs for the Blind to meet Caleb’s littermates!
News: Guest Posts
Survey results show need for more public education and increased law enforcement
Dog attacks and interference from other dogs are a problem for any dog owner, but they are a potential career-ending event for guide dog teams. Recently, The Seeing Eye (this country’s first, and the world’s oldest, guide dog school) conducted a survey of guide dog handlers to determine the scope of the problem. (Download a PDF of the report here.)
Guide dog handlers from around the country, regardless of the school from which they obtained their dog, were asked to respond to the survey. Of 744 respondents, 44 percent indicated they experienced at least one dog attack, and 58 percent of those respondents indicated they experienced more than one attack. In addition, 83 percent of handlers responding to the survey indicated that they experienced interference from another dog while working their guide dog. Interference was defined as, “chasing, blocking or other menacing,” behavior that distracted the guide dog from its job of safely guiding a blind person.
When a guide dog team is working, the blind handler might hear the clicking of doggy nails on pavement or the jingling of tags or a leash to alert them to an approaching dog. Or they might hear nothing. The approaching dog might be on leash or running loose. The handler won’t know for sure if the dog’s companion has it under control or if the dog is about to lunge at his or her working guide. All of this can create anxiety to fear in the blind handler.
If the guide dog is attacked—as happened in separate incidents involving a puppy raiser with his puppy and a student in training recently, as described recently in The Guide, The Seeing Eye’s quarterly publication—the results can range from a frightening encounter to physical or emotional injury that can end the career of a guide dog.
Fortunately, the student and her new Seeing Eye dog were able to continue as a working team. The dog was treated for puncture wounds on its neck and the team completed class and returned home together. The puppy raiser and his puppy weren’t so lucky. The puppy was attacked by a loose dog and suffered physical and emotional trauma such that he could not continue training to become a Seeing Eye dog. The puppy raiser lost the tip of his middle finger trying to separate the dogs.
The Seeing Eye offers the following tips for pet owners who encounter guide dog teams:
Seeing Eye Advocacy Specialist Ginger Kutsch authored a report on the results of the survey. It can be found on The Seeing Eye website.
Dog's Life: Work of Dogs
Dogs and birds are not always good companions. Dogs and wild seabirds? You must be joking! Whose dog hasn’t bounded around at the beach, sending up flurries of panicked gulls? However, in Australia, a dog/bird experiment with potentially global significance for conservation is taking place. On a tiny island near the Victorian coastal town of Warrnambool, Maremma Sheepdogs (livestock guardian dogs) are hard at work protecting Little Penguins, the smallest of the penguin species. And not only are the birds thriving and breeding, predation losses from foxes — their chief killers — have ceased.
Maremmas have been traced back 2,000 years to the Italian region of Abruzzo, where they defended herd animals from thieves and wild predators, notably wolves. Prized for their protective skills, they were successfully introduced to the U.S. in the 1970s and later, Canada, South Africa and South America. Australia first imported them in 1982.
With their floppy ears, shaggy, white coats and placid demeanor, Maremmas look unthreatening and act calmly around sheep, goats and poultry. Unlike herding breeds that nip and chase, Maremmas do not confront livestock but integrate with them, forming social bonds.
Some of this is heredity; the dogs are bred to be docile. They also bond to the animals they’re to look after so they identify them as members of their pack. This bonding takes place through the critical period of socialization — eight to 16 weeks — until the dogs are about 12 months old. During this time, they are monitored closely for harmful play behavior. The dogs scent-mark their territory, indicating their boundaries to potential predators, and disrupt hunters by vigorous barking. They defend rather than act as aggressors.
As Sydney, Australia, Maremma breeder Cecilia McDonald says, “The dogs work by instinct. But they need to be introduced to the stock they’re looking after so they can differentiate the predators from what is to be protected.”
In 2005, the Little Penguins of Middle Island were in desperate need of protection. One of the world’s most loved animals, this penguin species lives only in New Zealand and southern Australia. With their cute waddle and fascinating life cycle, they’re incredibly popular: the colony at Phillip Island, south of Melbourne, attracts a halfmillion visitors annually.
Middle Island, just beyond the Warrnambool breakwater in Stingray Bay, is a very different place. Uninhabited, forbiddingly steepsided and only 1.5 hectares (3.7 acres), its south face backs onto the wild Southern Ocean, into which the penguins dive up to 60 meters (roughly 197 feet) for fish and squid. Little Penguins had raised chicks in burrows near the island’s sandy summit for decades, the colony peaking at around 1,500 individuals. In the 1990s, when volunteers began record keeping, 700 penguins lived there.
At low tide, when the channel separating it from land is less than six inches deep, Middle Island becomes accessible to an introduced species, the European red fox, with disastrous consequences. For several years, the foxes wreaked havoc, killing dozens of penguins in unpredictable, nocturnal sprees. At the same time, human use of the fragile island increased, and burrows were trampled, crushing penguin eggs and chicks. In response, the Warrnambool City Council tried various predator-control methods (which failed) and built a 280-meter (919-foot) boardwalk to keep people off the rookery area. Even so, from 2000 to 2005, penguin numbers plummeted to fewer than 10. The colony was at the point of no return.
Enter Dave Williams. The environmental science student was working part-time on an organic egg farm, where Allan Marsh, his employer, used Maremmas for fox control. Hearing of the penguin massacres, Marsh made a perceptive remark: “All they need is a couple of [Maremma] dogs on that island.”
Williams agreed. He approached the Warrnambool City Council in 2005, asking to test the idea. After lengthy discussion, the council decided to give the dogs a four-week trial. Oddball, an experienced chicken guardian, was the first chosen for penguin duty. Six years — and six dogs — later, the experiment continues.
Initially, Williams camped on the island and supervised Oddball to determine her level of affinity with the seabirds. Things went so well that after a week, he left the dog alone at night to do her work.
“There were chicks in burrows already,” he explains. “We needed to know how they’d interact. Would the penguins accept the dog? Some birds were bolder than others. While some walked straight past the dog, others waited until the dog moved away before coming out of the sea.”
With only two breeding pairs, it was easy to gauge the success of the experiment. Chick weights were monitored to determine how the dogs affected the penguins. “If the chicks were healthy and gaining weight, that showed the parents were coming back to feed them. Weights showed they were progressing normally.”
Williams visited once a day to bring food and water for Oddball and to check on her health. Oddball got along with the penguins, but after three weeks, she ran away — back to Marsh’s farm. Another experienced chickenguardian dog, Missy, replaced her, but it wasn’t long before she also left the island for her farm home. By the time the trial ended after four weeks, the penguin chicks had fledged (grown up) and no penguins had died from fox predation. Another trial was planned for the following year.
In anticipation, puppies Electra and Neve were acquired at eight weeks of age and spent six months bonding to chickens at Marsh’s farm. Human contact was minimized and the young dogs settled in well. Williams, now a council employee, brought his dog Esta to demonstrate her calm demeanor around the penguins, and he was able to reduce the time he spent with the dogs. Then, disaster struck.
Some 10 penguins were found dead from internal bleeding. Almost certainly, they were killed in play by Electra and Neve. “It’s common with juvenile Maremmas,” says Williams. “With a sheep or a goat, the dog doesn’t really hurt the animal. When it’s a onekilogram penguin, they can’t stand up to that sort of puppy stuff.” Under public pressure, the council relieved them of their duties and Williams’ dog Esta took over patrols.
These problems were part of the learning process. As Williams reflects, “No one had done anything vaguely like it before. It’s an evolving project. We were constantly having discussions about how we could do things better.”
The fol lowing year, two new pups — dubbed Eudy and Tula (after the penguin species’ Latin name, Eudyptula minor) — joined the guarding effort. They’re now almost two years old and proving their worth. As with the first group of dogs, no penguins have been lost to fox attacks on their watch. Middle Island’s colony of Little Penguins now numbers 205.
Little Penguins have a sharply defined routine. In summer, the breeding season, they spend their days at sea, hunting fish. Returning at sunset to feed their chicks, they noisily socialize until dawn the next day. After breeding, they go into a molt for three weeks, replacing all their feathers. Particularly vulnerable at this time, they can starve as they cannot swim to hunt for food. In winter, they may stay at sea several days before building nests prior to mating in the early spring, when the cycle starts again.
Teaching a dog to guard birds who are not there all day — or all week — was always going to be hard. And as Oddball and Missy demonstrated, teaching a dog to stay on an island when she can trot off it at low tide proved even harder. The dogs’ training involved gradual exposure to the penguins at different times of day, for longer and longer periods. Esta, who was trustworthy with the birds, guided Eudy and Tula’s interactions.
“Esta’s reaction to the penguins showed the puppies that they were not to be feared. There are Short-tailed Shearwaters breeding out there too, so we exposed the puppies to all those phases and the different seasons. They got a picture of what’s normal on the island,” Williams says.
Dave Williams left Warrnambool for a wildlife officer job in nearby Portland, where he supervises another Maremma program for guarding Australasian Gannets, a large seabird. His successor is Paul Hartrick, who now heads a three-person team with responsibility for the Middle Island Maremmas.
The dogs aren’t obedience trained. For one thing, according to Williams, “the more obedient they are, the less they think for themselves.” This independence is vital, as the dogs are alone for long periods. For another, obedience could be harmful. Says Hartrick, “[Unfortunately] people are going over there. The last thing we want is for the dogs to respond to ‘sit,’ ‘stay’ or ‘come’ — to people trying to get them to come off the island. If they show undesirable behaviors, we use loud, abrupt vocal noises. It distracts them and they switch off from what they were thinking about.”
Another problem was evident from the start: Eudy and Tula occasionally left the island, possibly chasing foxes. An electric fence with solar-powered perimeter wire is now in place, and the dogs wear collars that emit warning beeps.
During the summer months, Eudy and Tula have two days off per week, which they spend at a bush block (a plot of undeveloped land covered with native vegetation) stocked with chickens. They’ve been there full-time since the end of summer and will go back to work on the island when penguin breeding commences. In the future, “the girls” will work year-round, and after six to eight years of guardian duty, will then help train their replacements. Hartrick believes the project could have benefits for other animals as well. “Dogs like this can be used for other native fauna that could use a helping hand.”
When I met Hartrick in February 2011, we visited Stingray Bay, from which Middle Island rises, sheer, stark and rocky. The tide was low and we took off our shoes and sloshed across the shallow channel. Together, we ascended the access stairway. Aware of a presence above us, I looked up: there were Eudy and Tula, doing their job, not letting me out of their sight.
News: Guest Posts
Harper’s backup plan
What happens to a Seeing Eye dog if their human companion gets hurt, or sick? Do they lose their skills while waiting for the person to recover? That’s one question I hoped I’d never have to answer. But then last month I broke my foot.
I swim laps two or three times each week. Tapping the lane marker with every other stroke keeps me swimming straight, and limiting myself to the crawl stroke means I always have one arm in front of me, so my head never bangs the end of the pool. Swimming has always been a safe form of exercise for me. Until that ill-fated night in June, that is.
I finished my laps and was heading back to the desk to fetch Harper when I slipped and fell back into the pool. My left foot must have gotten caught in the gutter as I took the plunge. It broke. In three places.
The first call we made once we returned from the orthopedic clinic was to the Seeing Eye. The doctor had told me I ought to be able to avoid surgery if I stay off my foot as much as possible. We needed to talk with Seeing Eye trainers about what my husband Mike, who can see, could do to help keep Harper on track during my recovery.
Doug Bohl from the Seeing Eye encouraged Mike to take Harper on long walks for exercise. “But really, you all should focus on getting Beth’s foot back to normal rather than worry about how Harper will perform once she’s better,” he said, describing one Seeing Eye dog who had to quit working for four months when the person he guided got hurt. “That dog did fine after that. These dogs don't forget their jobs.”
Mike uses a leash on walks, and the two of them stop at each curb, just like I do when Harper is on harness. Mike follows other Seeing Eye rules, too: Dog lovers can’t pet Harper, and Mike doesn’t let Harper lunge or sniff at other dogs during walks, either.
Before the accident, I had agreed to sit on a panel for the Writer’s Division at the National Federation of the Blind convention in Orlando. “You can still go,” my doctor said. “Just promise me you’ll use a wheelchair in the airport.” I promised. Harper stayed at home with Mike.
My sister Marilee lives in Orlando. She got a special pass to meet me at the gate, and before you knew it, we were in a swarm of waving white wands and wagging tails at the convention hall. More than 3,000 people with visual impairments showed up for the convention this year: That’s a lot of white canes and guide dogs.
My panel went well, and we had time to check out the exhibit hall before heading back to the airport. Marilee took a deep breath before we headed in, readying herself to maneuver me through a sea of conventioneers. Considering my oversized cast, this was, ahem, no small feat.
We were heading for the exit when a man suddenly approached and grabbed me by both arms, “Are you an imposter?” he asked. “Where’s your dog?” I’d know that voice anywhere. It was Lukas Franck from the Seeing Eye. I lifted my pant leg to show him my cast. “Harper’s at home with Mike,” I told him, explaining how Mike was following all the Seeing Eye rules, insisting Harper stop at each curb, going on longer walks with Harper when possible.
Harper is two years old, and he’s only been in Chicago with me for seven months. He’d had some trouble adjusting to the snow at first, and a trainer from the Seeing Eye had come out when the snow melted in April to help us get back on track. Lukas asked if Harper’s work had improved any before I got hurt. “Yes,” I said. “It had.”
“Good,” he said. “We can send someone out to give you another refresher course once your foot is healed.” Lukas also suggested I consider sending Harper back to Morristown now, while I continue to heal. “We could have people here work him every day.” In that scenario, I might return to Morristown after my foot heals, meet up with Harper and work with him there for a while before hitting the streets of Chicago again. “Think about it,”
Lukas said. “You know, Mike could use a break.”
And so, we are. Thinking about it, I mean. Mike assures me that taking Harper out to empty all the time, and then doing the long walks, too, isn’t taking a toll on him. And while getting regular workouts with Seeing Eye trainers in Morristown would be great for Harper’s work ethic, we worry what a temporary move back to Seeing Eye School might do to Harper’s mental health. Not to mention … mine.
News: Guest Posts
And loving up first graders
Caleb has officially reached the halfway-point of his puppy-raising year; today he’s 9 months old! We took another plane ride this month; in fact, we took a few. Caleb even bravely managed an early morning flight, which sets back mealtime by an hour—a lifetime to a Labrador.
I left the Alex in charge for a week, while I rode my bike 545 miles from San Francisco to Los Angeles as a participant in AIDS LifeCycle, a fundraising event support the programs of the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, and when I returned there was a dog where Caleb should have been. He had filled out and looked more like an adult; he had developed this wide ribcage and must have grown an inch in my absence.
Also, while I was gone, someone forgot what his day job was, no doubt a result of being home alone with the “easy” parent. A day after returning, I was working in my office with Caleb and after it was too quiet for a little too long I turned around to find him on his bed with a pack of Post It notes in his mouth. He was just holding them gingerly, not chewing on them but appearing not to know what to do or how he ended up with them in his mouth. He’s never picked up anything other than his own toys so I’ll chalk it up to teenage rebellion.
Speaking of kids, one of Caleb’s earliest socializations was a visit to the first grade classroom of another puppy raiser Mrs. M, who has graciously allowed all my pups to visit her class. Since he’s been visiting on a regular basis, we made a special trip back to say goodbye to the kids and give them a chance to ask me some questions about Caleb before summer break. Quite a list of questions had been compiled in anticipation. Here are a few of my favorites:
In turn, I asked the students what they liked most about having Caleb in class. The responses were hands down some of the best ever. First graders are awesome!
While the learning experience for Caleb is phenomenal, it’s clear his impact on the students has been tremendous. I received a note from Mrs. M after one of Caleb’s visits describing the incident of Caleb and the new kid.
“When a new student arrived scared and unsure, he was greeted by Caleb’s wagging body and bright happy smile. Immediately, he relaxed and melted into Caleb’s fur, petting him and loving him up so carefully. It was an amazing way to get him to open up, tell me about his dog and what he likes about them. I think having Caleb there yesterday made a huge difference in the life of one little guy with a lot of baggage. School was warm, wiggly and happy! Caleb was there for him whenever he needed to be loved up.”
I certainly will not be the first person to tout the power of the pooch when it comes to the human emotion spectrum. But you can’t tell me it’s not there!
Now that summer has finally arrived in Central Oregon, we are looking forward to being outside, and we’re cleaning up the canoe, kayaks and paddleboards in anticipation. Caleb is going to learn all about water sports. Stay tuned.
News: Guest Posts
Caleb’s first fundraiser
Our little dude is growing up so fast; we’ve completely lost all semblance of a puppy around our house except during playtime. He’s come to be known by one of his many nicknames, “Little Goat,” as he loves to jump straight in the air and race around the track he’s created in the yard, kicking up his heels and burning off steam.
Caleb is almost eight months old now, which means he’s about halfway through his puppy year. My best estimate is he’ll be recalled for formal training sometime next winter. But for now we are continuing to work on obedience, manners and socializing, all of which Caleb excels at. I had a light travel month for work so Caleb and I are proud to report we’ve made it to the gym every morning for the last two weeks and have been able to do some more daily outings and routines. Now that we’ve built a strong foundation of training, we’ve started to challenge Caleb with more complex outings and socializations. This month was no exception.
Twice a year, Guide Dogs for the Blind hosts annual wine gala fundraisers in Napa and Portland to raise funds for veterinary care. Guide Dogs for the Blind is unique from other schools in that it commits to the healthcare of working dogs for the lifetime of the dog, well beyond their guiding career. Everything from routine vet visits, cancer treatments, orthopedic surgeries, flea, tick and heartworm prevention to kibble—it is all free of charge to Guide Dog graduates. Knowing the dogs I raise will receive the best care for their lifetime is extremely important to me. We make a point to attend the events and contribute financially to support this cause, so Caleb went with us to Portland for the weekend.
Now remember, we live in the country, so visiting the city is a big change; there are more noises, more distractions and more smells! Since we made a weekend out of it Caleb also got to experience another hotel stay. His first hotel stay was quite controlled; we were in a ground floor room with easy access to an exit for potty breaks. This time we stayed in a downtown high-rise hotel, where leaving for a potty break involved walking down a hallway, riding in an elevator, crossing the lobby, out the door and around the corner. Luckily, all of the practice and consistency of teaching Caleb to relieve on command came in handy. He was perfect. Saturday we spent the day walking and shopping throughout Portland, a more urban ‘hood than Caleb’s used to so it proved to be a good training experience for him.
After an afternoon nap for Caleb and spa treatment for me, we headed over to the Portland Art Museum for the main event, Pinot and Pups. The evening consisted of a reception and silent auction followed by a sit-down dinner, keynote speakers and a live auction. This was Caleb’s first large event, and there was a lot going on from the moment we stepped out of the elevator. There were people, servers, working guide dogs, musicians, puppies-in-training and even some tiny little eight-week-old pups.
Those first few minutes were a little overwhelming for Caleb, so I took his cue and gave him some time to stand in one place and take it all in. Once settled, we spent some time navigating the silent auction tables, placing our bids and talking to attendees. As expected, the question I’m asked most often is how can I give up a puppy; don’t I get attached? Yes, I absolutely do. But to see what these dogs are capable of, I have to be capable of letting go.
Puppies are, of course, the highlight of the event, which was perfect for my little social butterfly. By the time we sat down for dinner, Caleb was more than ready for a nap and was asleep before the first course plates were set. After so much activity and stimulation, Caleb was more than happy to sleep in the next morning until almost 7 am!
All in all the experience proved to be a new one with a slew of new challenges for the little rock star to navigate. Up next on Caleb’s calendar: back-to-back weeks of airplane travel, plus the end of the school year party and interview with his first grade fans. Tune in next month.
News: Guest Posts
Nominate a deserving pup
Every day you tell us stories about the generosity, courage and loyalty of your canine companions, so I know there are more than a few Hero Dogs out there in the Bark community. Well, heads up: There are only eight days left to nominate a deserving pup for the American Humane Association’s Hero Dog Awards.
The idea of the contest is to celebrate the canine-human bond and to acknowledge dogs’ manifold contributions to our lives. In addition, 17 participating charities will have a chance to receive a share of $50,000 in grant prizes awarded by the Hero Dog Awards, including Canine Companions for Independence, United States War Dog Association and the National Association for Search and Rescue.
It's Me or the Dog star and Bark columnist Victoria Stillwell will lead the judging panel that will select heroes in eight categories: Law Enforcement and Arson Dogs, Therapy Dogs, Military Dogs, Guide Dogs, Search and Rescue Dogs, Hearing Dogs and Emerging Hero Dogs, this last category is a tribute to ordinary dogs who do extraordinary things. (Unfortunately for my dog, this probably doesn’t mean swiping a rack of ribs off an unguarded platter. I suppose a few seconds with the ribs was its own reward.)
Nominations will be accepted through May 31. If you don’t have a dog in mind, stop by the site anyway and read up on the deserving and inspiring nominee profiles. I’m glad I don’t have to select one in each category.
Finalists will be announced at a celebrity gala at the Beverly Hilton Hotel in L.A. on October 1.
News: Guest Posts
Deploying a clicker and treats to help a hesitant guide dog
Five months ago (has it been that long already?) I returned with my new dog from the Seeing Eye School in Morristown to piles of snow here in Chicago.
Poor Harper had never trained in snow. Was that why he was cowering on our walks to the Loop now? Does he miss the snow? Or maybe it’s a delayed reaction to the van that turned right in front of us. The driver didn’t see us crossing, she said. Her van brushed Harper’s face, and he pulled me back from harm so strongly that I fell. My head crashed on the concrete. Maybe that near-miss still has him scared.
Harper’s cowering started one day when I had a meeting downtown at Willis Tower. Halfway there, along a normal length of sidewalk, Harper crouched to the ground. Wouldn’t budge. Not forward, not backward. After trying everything I could come up with to get Harper to move, I finally accepted help from a stranger. The man walked Harper and me to Franklin Avenue, and when Harper caught sight of the Willis Tower he took off like old times.
On the way home, though, he cowered again. Four different times. Then he cowered on the way to and from the memoir-writing class I teach, on the way to and from the pool where I swim, on the way to and from the train station to visit my mom in the suburbs. We eventually got to all these places, but it was like driving a car that stalls all the time. It was miserable—both for Harper and for me.
“It really doesn’t matter why he’s acting this way,” the instructor from the Seeing Eye said when I called the training department for help. “He just can’t act like this.” They arranged to send an instructor out for a home visit.
Nicole spent her first afternoon with us just observing. Harper did not hold back. In one short walk, he refused to go all the way to the corner at an intersection, he veered right when we crossed, and then wouldn’t follow my command to turn right so we could take a walk to the park. He did get me home, though, and over a cup of tea Nicole assured me I hadn’t done anything wrong to cause Harper’s behavior. “We’ve just gotta work on how you react when he behaves like this,” she said.
Nicole suggested we try clicker training. Award-winning Seeing Eye instructor Lukas Franck had taught us clicker training while we were in Morristown last December, and I’d used it at home to teach Harper to find the elevator button in our hallway.
Clicking and giving Harper a treat to reward him for getting to the curb went counter to everything I’d learned when training with my previous Seeing Eye dogs Pandora and Hanni. Back then we were strongly discouraged from rewarding our dogs with food. Heap on the praise instead, they told us. Guide Dogs are allowed in restaurants, amusement parks, receptions, food courts, you name it. They have to be able to keep on task without being distracted by food.
Lukas—and then Nicole—assured me that the Seeing Eye had tested the clicker-training method extensively. I could use treats as rewards and still expect Harper to ignore food distractions in restaurants and the like. I was skeptical, but desperate. I decided to give it a try.
And you know what? It’s working! For the past couple weeks, I’ve been clicking the clicker every time Harper gets me to the end of a block. He understands that the click means “you got it!” and he knows that the sound of the click means he gets a small treat. Harper hardly ever cowers anymore; he’s in such a rush to get to the end of the block to collect his reward!
Harper’s work is not perfect—well, not yet, at least—but it has really, really improved. This week I’ve started weaning him off the clicker—in other words, I don’t click at each and every curb anymore. So far he’s still getting me to the end of each block without cowering, and his tail wags with pride when he does. Atta boy, Harper!
Copyright © 1997-2017 The Bark, Inc. Dog Is My Co-Pilot® is a registered trademark of The Bark, Inc