Like many golden retrievers, Cali has some arthritis pain. And like a growing number of dogs (and humans) she’s trying CBD for relief.
CBD is derived from hemp but, unlike medical (or recreational) marijuana, it has no THC and Cali does not get a “high” from her Special cookies.
According to a recent study, the benefits are real and measurable — dogs getting CBD, vs. a placebo, had reduced inflammation and pain and greater mobility. Owners and veterinarians reported on the dogs’ condition and any changes in their gait. All the dogs had bloodwork done before and after the treatment. No ill effects were recorded — but the study lasted only 4 weeks. Nine out of 10 dogs who got the CBD showed improvement that lasted for a couple of weeks after the treatments ended.
The participating dogs got daily treatments, though, and Cali is probably taking far less CBD. She may need more of her CBD treats… a prescription she will be delighted to follow!
She’s also getting chiropractic adjustments and laser therapy. She is cheerful, playful, and happy, and eager to run and jump for a tennis ball, so I don’t think she’s in a lot of pain. But she’s still young, and her arthritis is likely to get worse, so I am learning what I can about available therapies.
This small, short-term study is promising. It could lead to studies with humans. CBD is popping up everywhere, including local pet stores. It’s great to have some indication that it could be effective.
Ryan, left, and Koala, caught up on guide school news during Ryan’s visit to Florida in late February.
Our friend Ryan finally got to retire.
Ryan, a yellow Labrador, is — or was — a guide dog. He was all set to retire in March. He had his retirement planned and new toys lined up. He thoroughly enjoyed his last work trip, a visit to friends in Florida, and he looked forward to hanging up his harness.
Then COVID-19 hit.
Ryan wasn’t the only essential canine worker who had to do overtime due to the pandemic. Hundreds, maybe thousands more, had the opposite problem: Their start dates for their new jobs were delayed indefinitely.
But things are slowly starting to reopen, and Ryan was finally able to retire in early June. He even got to help train his successor. Since Ryan’s human wasn’t able to attend training camp in New York, the new dog and a human trainer came to Ryan’s house. The human trainer showed the new guy the ropes in the mornings, while in the afternoons, Ryan let the youngster know how things were going to work around the house.
Finally, just in time for summer, Ryan is retired. He’s looking forward to some well-earned rest and relaxation.
Cali and Dora are sisters. Dora’s parents are among my closest friends and our favorite humans.
For the first four and a half years of their lives, we lived near enough to one another that Cali and Dora got together regularly.
They each have other friends. Dora was part of a regular pack of dogs who walked and played together. Cali has always had friends who come for play dates. But their time together was always special. I am sure that they knew they were sisters. Cali was comfortable enough with Dora to play without inhibition. She also made herself right at home in Dora’s house, on Dora’s bed, with Dora’s toys …
Then Cali and I moved to Montana.
We’ve been back twice for visits. We drove back and spent a couple of weeks there each time, and of course the girls got together.
They definitely know each other and remember their special connection. Cali gets excited when we’re many miles out but getting close to Dora’s house. As soon as Dora senses us outside she gets excited. Cali’s only problem is who to hug, dance around, and squeal over first — Dora, Dora’s mom, or Dora’s dad. The three of them are really Cali’s extended family and she’s so excited when we are all together.
Another chance encounter a long time ago convinced me that dogs do recognize their birth-family members: I was walking Jana once and we ran into her mom. Jana was grown, maybe even a year old. She hadn’t seen Mom since the day I took her home when she was just 8 weeks old. Jana was delighted to see mom and bounded up to say hi, all wags and smiles. I think Mom recognized her, too … but her response was to curl her lip, give a little warning, and turn away. Jana was crushed and came back to my side, sad and subdued.
Maybe her mom didn’t recognize her and just didn’t want to say hi to this bouncy young dog. I cannot know for sure. But I’m pretty sure I read Jana’s excitement and disappointment accurately. Jana was an extremely introverted dog and never approached strange dogs or tried to greet dogs we met on our walks. Her surprise and delight at seeing her mom were obvious. My best guess is that dogs recognize family members, friends, enemies, and others they’ve met before based on smell. I’ve seen dogs after a long, long absence, some who I knew as puppies and re-meet as adults, and they definitely recognize me.
The bottom line is that I have to get Cali together with Dora as often as I can!
Guiding Eyes Koala gives me advance warning when we are about to cross paths with another dog. I can feel added tension in the rigid handle attached to her harness. She keeps walking us straight down the sidewalk, but as the person and dog get closer, I can feel Koala rise up. She walks on her tippy-toes, restraining herself from sniffing as we scoot past the dog.
A person alone on the sidewalk is way less interesting; as far as Koala is concerned, they might as well be a trash can to walk around. In that case, Koala is likely to walk by without giving any indication that there is something that needs my attention. It isn’t until I hear footsteps that I realize that the obstacle we are passing is a living, breathing human being.
In this period of cautiously returning to public contact, what my guide dog communicates has become an urgent matter of concern. Guide dogs know how to squeeze and weave themselves and their partners around any obstacles. They aren’t likely to understand the concept of staying six feet away from others. So, the question for people who are blind or visually impaired is: How can we manage social distancing when we can’t see the distance?
I’ve found that the answer depends on how crowded your community is and on whether the guide dog team is navigating outside or inside.
In areas with lower population and more attuned neighbors, if people see a guide dog working in harness, they may naturally cross the street or provide space. In high population areas or or where sighted people are more focused on their phones than on other pedestrians, the guide dog handler will have to take a more proactive approach.
When walking on harness outside, if the guide dog signals that another dog is nearby, the handler should ask the person approaching to keep the distance. “Please stay six feet away,” is normally all that is required.
It’s harder when your guide gives no warning, and the handler suddenly finds herself shoulder-to-shoulder with someone on the sidewalk. Again saying, “Please stay six feet away,” is kinder than shouting, “Can’t you see that I’m blind?”
Working a dog in harness inside in the COVID-19 era provides new challenges that most guide dog teams can’t overcome on their own. Some grocery stores have designated aisles as one-way. Any place open for business has six-foot markers for people standing in line at the check-out counter. People with visual impairments are not likely to see any of this. It is kind for sighted shoppers to offer directions, but unfortunately, many sighted people just stop and stare.
The blind or visually impaired person can do some advance planning to make the trip to the store as efficient as possible. If the store has special hours for vulnerable populations, it is good to take advantage of the smaller crowd and the likelihood that the other shoppers will also be working to keep distance. This is one time that it is a good idea to call the store in advance, explaining to the manager that the need for employee assistance. That helper can quickly locate items and help the guide dog team stay out of the way of others, while everyone maintains a six-foot distance.
Some people have pulled out their long white canes as an additional signal for sighted people to keep the right distance. Others who aren’t coordinated enough to handle the dog in harness on one side and cane on the other – I’m one of those – may need to provide additional visual cues for those around them. Vests, tank tops, and tee shirts that say “BLIND” or “VISUALLY IMPAIRED” in high contrast are used by athletes and are available at ruseen.com. These draw more attention to disability than most of us would like in our daily lives. But at this time in the world, it is better to be noticed than infected.
Cali loves to dig. She loves to dig deep holes at the dog beach, sending sand flying. She loves to dig through the snow, sometimes over-zealously sending clods of partially frozen grass and dirt flying.
Most of all, she loves to dig in the yard. The first time we planted tomatoes in our raised garden beds, Cali immediately dug them right back up. She’s since learned that the raised beds are off-limits but … that leaves the whole rest of the yard for her, right?!
I now have two or three large pits in my back yard. Any attempt to refill them is met with more digging.
But! I have a possible solution. A couple of weekends ago, I built Cali a digging pit. It’s a kiddie pool with sand. I considered other fill materials — wood chips? Pea gravel? I didn’t want something that would get too hot for paws or would harm the grass or the lawnmower if / when some got scattered on the grass. I thought about getting those plastic balls used in kids’ ball pits but they’re pretty expensive and they squash or puncture easily (not to mention blowing / rolling around the yard!). So I settled on sand. I cover it at night and I don’t get many cats in the yard anyhow with the dogs around.
I bury things — tennis balls, bones.
Koala does not seem to see the point, though she will pull a bone out every so often and gnaw on it. But Cali seems to like it! She’ll dig something out, chew on it for a while, then wander back to dig for a new treat. As the days grow longer and warmer, we’ll all spend more time outside, so the pit will be uncovered more often. Time will tell whether this diverts Cali from her yard excavations … or simply adds to her digging pleasure.
For over two years, I opposed Puppy Lunch. I made fun of it and told Deni that Koala had really wrapped Deni around her paw.
I was wrong.
Cali now has Puppy Lunch every day alongside Koala.
Puppy Lunch is a late morning snack. Ideally it would be a mid-day snack, but Koala has adeptly moved the time forward bit by bit, and it’s now generally served at about 10:30. Soon we’ll need to call it Puppy Brunch and perhaps add Puppy Happy Hour at 2 or 3 pm.
But I digress.
Little puppies eat three times a day. Big grown-up dogs eat twice a day — some only once! (Koala finds that very hard to imagine.) The worst day of Jana’s life was the day she grew up and outgrew Puppy Lunch. Cali’s too, apparently.
Koala convinced Deni as well as the Guiding Eyes trainers and nutritionists that she could not possibly survive — much less work(!) — without the sustenance that Puppy Lunch offered.
Cali did just fine without Puppy Lunch.
Then Cali lost some weight and was looking a bit thin. Her vet pronounced her in excellent health but underfed. Cali said, “I told you so!” about a thousand times. Cali’s vet, her favorite human on the planet, suggested … a mid-day meal.
Here’s the part I misunderstood, though: Unlike breakfast and dinner, Puppy Lunch is not simply food poured into a bowl. Puppy Lunch is a small amount of kibble served in a treat ball. Cali and Koala each have an orange treat ball that is used solely for this purpose. Koala brings the balls upstairs; Deni fills them. The girls then bump their balls around the basement play area until the balls are empty. Koala then returns them to the toy box.
It’s a nice routine. More than that, it’s an enrichment activity. They have fun, use their noses and paws, and get a break in their fairly dull days of watching us work at our computers. Both girls have become skilled at keeping their balls from rolling under things or behind furniture.
Cali often has a second break in the afternoon, with her snuffle mat although, for some reason, Koala rarely joins her. (Hmmm… perhaps Cali has already trained me to provide Puppy Happy Hour …)
When Deni and Koala are working at the university in Florida, Puppy Lunch gives Koala a nice work break and a chance to play in the middle of what can be long workdays.
Cali’s weight is back up to where it needs to be. She’s fit and very healthy. But the routine continues — because adding some fun into her life has been good for her. It’s an easy enough thing to do, especially with Koala reminding one or both of us about Puppy Lunch well in advance…
I have a confession to make: The real brainpower behind the Thinking Dog blog comes from Koala. She’s shown, above, reviewing drafts of blog posts on her iPad.
She wanted to be sure that no one missed the important news that her distant cousins are going to save humans from themselves by fixing this whole coronavirus mess.
Eight Labradors are learning to use their super power to fight the COVID-109 pandemic: Their noses.
Dogs have already demonstrated their ability to sniff out viruses, which apparently have unique odors — either from the virus itself or from the body’s response — that dogs can detect before an infected person is symptomatic. Dogs are ideally suited for this job. Their detection ability is better by far than available detection equipment, and they can easily travel and work anywhere that humans gather.
Coronavirus-detection dogs could be more accurate than taking people’s temperatures. Their potential to sniff out contagious people who have no idea they are infected could make it safer for people to travel and resume other activities. A similar project in the UK aims to deploy these canine superheroes to airports to screen passengers.
Airports offer so many opportunities for working dogs — I wonder how the vegetable-sniffing dogs, the explosive-sniffing dogs, and the virus-sniffing dogs will all get along. Koala would like to point out that all of these hard-working airport employees deserve potty parity. She’s appalled at the conditions of the airport restrooms she’s expected to use while working and traveling and believes that the dogs who actually work at the airport deserve far better!
Are dog parks wonderful places to let your city dog off leash to safely run and play or are they the potential source of serious problems and likely places to pick up infections, get hurt, or worse?
Yes to both.
It’s been a couple of years since I last wrote about dog parks on The Thinking Dog, and an online exchange about dog parks, brought to my attention by a friend, got me thinking about the topic.
First this New York Times piece came out: The Dog Park Is Bad, Actually. Not much ambiguity there. It’s pretty clear where this writer stands.
The NYT piece raises valid concerns, including the risk of disease or injury. I know dogs who’ve been seriously injured by dog-aggressive dogs at dog parks, and a local dog park was recently closed for a week or so for disinfecting after some dogs picked up an infection there.
The author also talks about the idea that dog parks are for “dog socialization” and explains that that’s not where or how to socialize your puppy. True, and also obvious.
Finally, she delves into the issue of dogs who find dog parks stressful or otherwise unpleasant. She closes with this: “There is no shame in not surrendering your dog to what has become the quintessential urban dog experience: running with dozens of strangers in a small, smelly pen as people stand by, looking at their phones or gossiping,” and encourages owners to spend quality time with their dogs instead.
I have been at urban dog parks that are indeed small, smelly pens where the humans ignore the dogs.
But that is not typical of my dog park experience. And I would never go into a park like that with my dog!
Bekoff effectively addresses the sweeping generalizations in the NYT piece while stating what should be obvious: All dog parks are different.
Many are large, open, wonderful spaces, maybe with woods or walking paths.
Dog park culture varies greatly too. In many, there are regular gatherings of people and dogs who are friends. Many dog park people are conscientious dog owners who are actually paying attention to their dogs. Some even play with their dogs! You can and should spend “quality time” with your dog at the dog park!
Many dog parks have quieter times when dogs like Cali, who wants to play with her tennis ball undisturbed by other dogs, can run and roll in the grass and be free. Now that Cali has her own back yard, she doesn’t need the dog park as much … but when we lived in apartments, she really needed the off-leash time and the exercise.
Not all dogs want to play with other dogs, and not all dog parks are wonderful. But they’re certainly not all bad, either. Wherever you stand on dog parks, and whether or not your local options are appealing to you and to your dog, my bottom line is that over-generalizing doesn’t make sense.
You and your dog need to figure out what works for both of you. If you’re lucky enough to have enjoyable dog parks nearby, go ahead — enjoy some outdoor, off-leash quality time with your dog at the dog park!
Cali loves to watch TV. She might like talking to her vet that way.
Vets are considered to be providers of an essential service, so, in most places, they can remain open during COVID-19 stay-at-home rules. Even so, they are looking for creative ways to keep themselves, their staffs, and their patients safe.
Like telemedicine. Or drive-through service — or carhop service, where a tech gets the pet from the car so the driver doesn’t have contact with the clinic staff.
I’m not a huge fan of vet practices where they take my dog “to the back” and I don’t get to see what is done to her, but in these times, I do understand the need.
The telemedicine is more of a mystery. I know many people with two operable thumbs who have difficulty with videoconference tools, what with the mouse, the camera, getting the audio to work … How’s Cali supposed to manage all of that? Then there’s the whole question of how she explains where it hurts … I don’t know.
In all seriousness, the ability to consult and even get medications prescribed via telemedicine can reduce the risk of spreading COVID-19 by reducing contact between humans. I’ll be curious to see whether people take to tele-vet services and whether they remain an option after the pandemic ends.
Maybe Cali could get her next vaccination via telemedicine … or avoid that scene with the soup ladle and the urine sample. She’d like that. I hate to be the one to tell her that there are some thing you just have to do in person. Or in dog.
Weeks of sheltering in place have taken their toll. Even our dogs have gotten bored with the stale smells in the same circuit of empty sidewalks that they’ve walked morning, noon, and night, day after day. We’re all looking for ways to amuse our canine companions, including people, like me, who are visually impaired and partner with guide dogs.
Guide dogs are used to as much socialization and stimulation as their human partners normally have, and they can’t have Zoom happy-hours to compensate. Pre-virus, guide dogs’ daily lives were filled with work: leading their people to the office, going to meetings, running errands at lunch, meeting friends for dinner or going to the theater at the end of the day. Now they are as likely as their previously active human partners to be climbing the walls. They grumble and sigh, “When are we going to DO something? When are we going to GO somewhere?”
People paired with guide dogs know that we need to go out for regular walks on harness to keep our dogs’ guiding skills sharp. But that still leaves a large part of every day. Here are some suggestions from Guiding Eyes for the Blind grads that would engage any inquisitive canine who has a basic obedience repertoire:
“Hide-and-seek” is an easy game for a start. Leave the dog on a sit-stay in one room, go into another, and call your dog. Have a treat ready for when your dog finds you. Take your friend back to the starting place and repeat. You can get progressively tricky by hiding behind the couch or drapes or crouching down next to the bed. If you want to teach a new recall skill, introduce a dog whistle, clicker, or simply clap your hands.
Deborah Groeber, a retired attorney, adds a level of difficulty with “Find it.” She shows her guide, Iris, a favorite toy, then leaves the dog on a sit-stay while she hides the toy in another room. Deborah returns and tells Iris to “find it.” The dog seeks out the toy and returns it in exchange for a treat. The work for Iris gets progressively harder as she hunts the toy down in places she is not likely to look, such as behind the shower curtain or in the corner of a bookcase. But the last “find it” is purposely easy so that the game ends with Iris feeling successful.
Victoria Keatting, a massage therapist and member of the Guiding Eyes for the Blind Graduate Council, is using her extra time to teach guide dog Watson to solve interactive puzzles, which she bought from Chewy.com. Treats are hidden in compartments that the dog can reach only by manipulating levers or spinning disks with his nose or paws. Once Watson understood that the treats Victoria placed didn’t fall through for him to retrieve underneath the puzzle, he enjoyed the dexterity practice.
Some of us are using our time at home to have our dogs help out with the daily chores. At our house, Golden Retriever Cali fetches the morning paper, and Guiding Eyes Koala deposits the dogs’ food bowls, after meals, into waiting human hands for washing. Both dogs are supposed to put their toys in the toy basket before bed, but that’s most likely to be enforced only after a human gets startled by tripping over a squeaky toy. (Watch Koala stack the food bowls.)
As even the best of friends can sometimes seem underfoot, author Peter Altschul sends guide dog Heath off for a weekly playdate with a friend’s dog. Unlike the concern raised if neighborhood children play together, there is no worry that an exhausted dog will bring home COVID-19.
Unlimited snuggling, petting, additional pampering, and connection create the silver lining that our dogs enjoy as we shelter at home. But every household has its boundaries. At our house, dogs are allowed only to watch our morning yoga routine. They no doubt privately laugh at the funny human tricks. But no canines are permitted on the mats. Following the internet instructor is enough for the people to handle before coffee without dog feet, tails, and happy tongues complicating our poses.
Like many golden retrievers, Cali has some arthritis pain. And like a growing number of dogs (and humans) she’s trying CBD for relief.
