The Making of a Cherry Monster

Cali with her tennis ball, in the shade of a cherry tree
Cali discovered delicious snacks under the cherry trees.

It started out innocently enough. Cali wandered over to that nice shady corner of her yard by the cherry trees. One day, she found something red that smelled delicious. She ate it. She found more of those delicious red balls and ate them, too.

I noticed and told her to cut it out. She carefully spit out the cherry pit that was in her mouth and wandered away.

If only it were that simple.

Soon Koala discovered cherries. She taught Cali that if you swallowed the pits, you could eat a whole lot more cherries, faster, even after one of the mean policemoms caught you and told you to stop.

We went from a pit spitter and a pit pooper to … well, you know.

Then Koala packed up and went back home to Florida. Cali had to figure out stealth cherry chomping on her own. She’d keep an eye on me to see if I was watching. If I was talking on the phone or (!) went inside, she’d steal over to the cherry patch and grab a few cherries. She’d still spit the pits if she felt as if she had time to dine more leisurely. But, if she saw that I’d looked her way or — worse — was walking over to ruin her snack — the gobble rate would speed up.

I chased her away from the cherries. She went back. I threatened to make her go inside. She stayed away for a few minutes but was always drawn back. I cleaned up the dropped cherries. She found more. The call of the cherries was irresistible.

She got very sneaky. She’d wander around the yard feigning nonchalance. If I didn’t react, her loops would take her closer and closer to the cherries … Or she’d head that way and glance casually over her shoulder. If I wasn’t paying attention (or she thought I wasn’t), she’d pick up the pace and head right there. If I was watching, she’d change direction, look again, react appropriately … this meandering ultimately always ended at the cherry feast.

Finally, nearly all the cherries were ripe. I picked several million one Sunday morning. A friend helped me pick most of the remaining billions of cherries one evening after work. We cleaned up the dropped cherries pretty well. Cali went into deep depression.

Now, the only cherries left are too high for me to reach, even with a ladder.  The birds and squirrels help Cali out by dropping and knocking them down.

But Cali has pretty much moved on.

She discovered the raspberries this week.

She picks the low-down ones, being careful to avoid the spiky branches. When I am out there picking, she’ll stick her nose into the bowl and try to steal the fruits of my labor. I tell her to go get her own raspberries. She does, even burrowing into the bushes to go after a particularly juicy berry.

There aren’t as many raspberries, and they have no pits, so I don’t worry as much about her eating those. But somehow, Raspberry Monster doesn’t have the same ring.

Over the Top

Jana, a white golden retriever, smile happily as she shows off the sand coating her entire body.
Jana was happiest at the beach, covered in as much sand as she could rub into her fur.

Two people sent me this article for the July 4 New York Times on the absurd lengths that people go to to “pamper” their pets. I am skeptical that it is truly pampering for many (most?) pets. It’s really what the human owners think of as pampering or as necessary; I do not think that the pets themselves would choose … OK, where do I start:

Neuticals? Too easy. These fake manly bits exist exclusively for the humans who cannot get past the horror of neutering … a human. Dogs don’t care. In fact, dogs who suffer miserably when forced to live in a human world following human rules are generally far less frustrated, less anxious, and possibly less aggressive post-alteration. Many more of them actually get to remain in their comfy homes, too.

Gender non-conforming pets? Since the reasons given for what is termed “gender reassignment surgery” in pets sound plausibly medically justified, I am not too upset about the examples given. But the discussion of gender-(non)conformity and pets is … absurd. The ideas of gender come from the humans. The dogs go about their doggy lives peeing in whatever position  works best for them and don’t give each other any grief about how (or where) they do it. We could learn from them. And, yes, they mount one another, even if they are female. It’s not all about sex; sometimes it’s about status or control. It’s a very doggy thing to do, even if it is rude.

The idiotic haircuts and styling are a step too far. Even dogs who enjoy going to the groomer — and most dogs don’t — don’t need all that fuss and oh-so-human bother. Let dogs be dogs.

Which brings us to the worst offense: Cosmetic surgery. I cannot believe there are vets who would do this, but I guess in any profession, there are some who are just in it for the money. “Popular procedures include tummy tucks, nose jobs and eyebrow and chin lifts,” according to the NYT article. Seriously? Isn’t there a veterinary code of ethics? In what universe is forcing unnecessary surgery on a sentient, sensitive, loving being who cannot (and would not) consent even close to ethical?

Again: Let dogs be dogs. Want to pamper your dog? Forget the spa and the glitter. Head for the dog beach or a nice creek. Spend a couple of hours walking in a forest, preferably where the dog can safely be off leash. Heck, stay home, toss a ball for a few hours (“Heaven …” Cali murmurs), and fire up the grill. Throw an extra burger or steak on for your best buddy. (“Is that even possible …?” Cali wonders. “Does it have to be a tofu hot dog?”). Wrap up with a long belly rub (for the dog) while you watch TV together (DOGTV is not necessary or even very interesting to many dogs) or sit outside and stargaze.

Dogs love to be pampered, sure. But their idea of pampering is not the same as ours. If the spa really wanted to appeal to the dogs, they’d replace the oatmeal soak and blueberry facial with a “rotten fish roll” — and I don’t mean bread. Or, they’d swap out the mud “mask” for a (post-shampoo) chance to wallow in a mud bath — then shake off in an all-white room provisioned with a freshly laundered white bedspread and pristine rug to roll on. That’s the ticket!

Are Mixed-Breed Dogs Healthier?

A mixed breed dog relaxes with a Labrador and a golden retriever on a sofa.
Who’s healthier?

A recent blog post by Dr. Stanley Coren mused about “hybrid vigor” or the notion that mixed-breed dogs are healthier — or, at least, less prone to genetic diseases — than purebred dogs. I decided to read the full study he referenced to learn more.

A large group of researchers, mostly Finnish, studied a huge sample of dogs: more than 83,000 mixed-breed and more than 18,000 purebred dogs of 330 different breeds. They analyzed the dogs’ genotypes, looking for 152 different genetic markers that underlie hereditary diseases.

They quickly narrowed down the study: Of the dogs with a faulty gene, 96 percent had one (or more) of a group of 30 genetic markers or “disease alleles.” They narrowed further, selecting the nine most common markers, which all appeared in multiple purebred breeds as well as in mixed-breed dogs in the sample.

Several findings might be interesting to dog owners:

  • Mixed-breed dogs are as likely or more likely to carry some genetic variations linked to diseases than purebred dogs.
  • But purebred dogs are more than twice as likely to actually have a genetic disease.
    That makes sense; the number of purebred dogs who are actually bred is quite small, and many are bred to dogs from the “same lines” — relatives, even very close relatives. Within a closely related population, the likelihood of dogs sharing a recessive gene is much higher than in the broad population of mixed-breed dogs.
  • Deeper study of individual mixed-breed dogs who carried rare genetic variations found that, even when the dogs exhibited symptoms of a genetic disease, these individual dogs were only diagnosed after the owners had the results of the genotyping.
    That also (sadly) makes sense: The vets didn’t suspect that the mixed-breed dogs had rare, usually breed-linked, genetic diseases.

The question of “hybrid vigor” is nuanced, since the dogs are likely to be carriers but less likely to suffer the diseases, but I’d argue that mixed-breeds are healthier.

In his post, Coren also points out that another common belief — that breeders frequently breed dogs known to be carriers or even sufferers of a disease — is unfounded. Many breed-specific genetic diseases have become extremely rare or have been eradicated — due to careful breeding. Some breed clubs forbid breeding of carriers of known genetic diseases.

The researchers are sharing their data; they’ve created the free My Breed Data database, where anyone can search for information on genetically linked diseases.

 

Time to Weigh In on Flying Dogs (Hurry!)

Koala, a black Labrador, rests. She's wearing her guide harness.
Koala is an excellent traveler.

The peacocks, the pets trying to travel as service or emotional support dogs, the misbehavior — from pooping pigs to biting dogs — and the “service dog” whelping her litter near gate F81 … it’s all too much.

Not only are airlines tightening up their rules on which of our furred, feathered, and scaled friends may board, the Department of Transportation is considering changing sections of the Air Carrier Access Act (ACAA), the law governing air travel with service and emotional support animals.

The root of the problem is that federal laws governing access for assistance animals are vague, different laws allow for different things in different spaces (public businesses, housing, and air travel), and it’s easy to exploit loopholes or deliberate omissions in these laws. The result, as far as air travel is concerned, is a mess.

In a nutshell, the ACAA allows people to travel with service animals or with emotional support animals (ESAs). The ACAA definition of a service animal is different from the more familiar ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) definition; the ACAA definition of ESA is loose indeed. For one thing, no training is required; for another, passengers are not required to crate or otherwise contain the animals during the flight.

Problems include threats to (and harm to) the safety of other passengers, interference with legitimate service animals working with their partners, and undue stress on the animals themselves, who generally have had no public access training and should not have to endure a strange, noisy, smelly, stressful, cramped, terrifying experience (air travel is all of that and more for me, and I am used to it!).

The DOT is soliciting comments by July 9, 2018 specifically in these areas:

  1. Psychiatric service animals; ADA treats (some) PSAs as any other service animal, while the current ACAA groups them together with ESAs
  2. Whether to maintain the distinction between ESAs and service animals
  3. Whether ESAs should be crated or otherwise confined / restrained throughout the flight; similarly, they are soliciting comments on whether service / ESAs should be required to be leashed or tethered
  4. Whether to limit what species of animals would be permitted to fly as service and/or ESAs; ADA allows only service dogs and a limited number of miniature horses
  5. Whether and how to limit the number of service / ESAs a passenger may travel with; currently neither the ACAA nor the ADA limits the number of animals
  6. Whether to require that passengers with a service or ESA should be required to attest (sign a statement declaring) that the animal has been trained  for public access
  7. Safety concerns regarding travel with “large” (undefined) service animals and suggestions for addressing those concerns
  8. Whether airlines should be allowed to require a veterinary health form or immunization record from any or all service animal users
  9. Issues with airlines denying / allowing passengers to board with ESAs / service animals on foreign airlines’ code-share flights

For more details, read the full notice. Post a comment here. Read others’ comments here.

Post your comment by July 9!

Wrong on So Many Levels …

a poster announces that service dogs are welcomeI was in St. Petersburg when the Tampa Bay Times ran this story about a “service dog” whelping a litter of puppies at the Tampa airport. Columnist Daniel Ruth’s response is spot-on. This is so, so wrong.

The initial article said that the dogs’ owner claimed both dogs (the puppies’ dad was present for the whelping) were service dogs; it also said the puppy-mom was a service dog in training. The initial article says that the owner has mobility issues; Ruth’s column mentions blood pressure. It’s impossible to know which is accurate or whether the owner meets the ADA definition of a person with a disability. It’s also impossible to tell whether either or both dogs do anything to mitigate the disability. While the reporting could be more clear, part of the problem is that the various laws covering public access and air travel with service dogs are so vague and poorly written that they are a nightmare for gatekeepers — and an engraved invitation to fakers. (I’m not saying this person was faking; I am saying it is nearly impossible to know.)

The second problem is that it’s legal in some cases for people to use two service dogs and request public access with both simultaneously. I know that people might have multiple disabilities that a dog or dogs can help with. And if you’re an owner-trainer and want to train a dozen service dogs for yourself, I don’t think any law should stop you. But I also advocate for some common sense in access laws.

I’ve worked with dozens and dozens of service dogs. Even the best dogs get spooked in airports or on planes, and I know that it’s hard enough to find and train one dog for the really difficult, demanding job of working while traveling, through an airport, and on an airplane. Expecting someone to be able to safely handle more than one dog in these circumstances, while dealing with the many hassles of travel — that’s just not reasonable. It’s not fair to other travelers or to airline staff. No one can predict what will happen. I’ve seen “service” dogs react aggressively to working dogs, kids come out of nowhere to grab the dogs in a hug, people interfering with dogs by doing everything from reaching to pet to trying with gestures and noises to distract the dog to actually enticing working dogs with food.

Add to that the exploding number of emotional support animals traveling these days — a concept that many people, including Ruth, in his column, have trouble separating from service dogs — and I’m surprised that any dog can navigate air travel without losing her cool. Expecting a person, any person, to keep tabs on multiple service dogs with all of that going on, and keep everything under control so that the traveler, dogs, and everyone else is safe? Not realistic.

Finally, the most egregious part of this story: Who boards a plane with a dog who’s that pregnant? It’s not that hard to know when a dog is due to whelp. Gestation is about 60 days. If your dog has been bred, don’t travel after about 6-7 weeks. And that doesn’t even address the bigger issue: Any professional service or guide dog trainer will tell you that a working service dog should be spayed or neutered. Regardless, a pregnant female shouldn’t be working that close to her due date. And if she is a service dog in training, as some accounts said, she shouldn’t have been allowed to fly anyhow; no law gives access to service dogs in training. (In a probably vain attempt to forestall criticism, I will state that I think that trainers should be able to fly with dogs-in-training, but that is a whole separate issue.)

A service dog partnership is not a one-way street. The dog helps the person in a way that only a dog can. The dog also provides companionship and love. In return, the person owes the dog care and respect. I don’t doubt that the owner of these dogs loves them and appreciates their service. But she did not fill her obligations as their guardian and steward and advocate, nor did she show respect for the dog when she let a working dog become pregnant and then attempted to fly with that dog so close to her due date. The person’s needs do not always come first, and in this case, the owner was selfish and irresponsible.

As a person who cares deeply about the human-canine connection while also deeply respecting the work dogs do for us, I become angry when I see or hear about any dog owner who treats her dogs that badly, whether they are service dogs or pets. (I’m not alone; the Times apparently heard from lots of others who were outraged.) While travelers who saw the puppy birth might have thought it wonderful, miraculous, cute (or gross), that this poor dog had to whelp her puppies in such awful, public conditions is outrageous.

What It’s Like to Be a Dog

Cover of Gregory Berns's book What It's Like to Be a DogI’ve had a serious crush on Dr. Gregory Berns ever since he published his first MRI studies. Those showed that dogs’ brains’ pleasure centers light up when they catch the whiff of a beloved human (or dog). There’s so much to love about his papers and his book How Dogs Love Us. So I was really excited about reading his newer book, What It’s Like to Be a Dog.

It’s well worth reading, and I enjoyed it. But … it wasn’t what I was expecting. There’s some really cool stuff, like the explanation of how dogs’ brains look when they’re doing the equivalent of the Marshmallow Test. I’ve played around with that a bit with Koala and Alberta, though I lack access to an MRI machine. So I was very interested in his findings. It turns out that some dogs do well with deferred gratification and others … not so much. You might notice that I haven’t talked about doing a marshmallow test with Cali. I don’t need a fancy machine to tell me that she lacks impulse control.

I was a little disappointed with some of the detours from living dogs’ brains into the long-ish discussions of the brains of deceased seals and Tasmanians. And I was distressed by the chapter on dogs and language.

I know that any sentence that pairs non-human animals with language raises the hackles of many people, scientists and non-scientists alike. I also think that there are many, many definitions of language and that dogs, particularly those with close human connections, understand a lot of what we say and do and they communicate with us in sophisticated ways. Lack of understanding of their “language” does not diminish its value. I get irritated when people choose a very narrow, very human-centered definition of language, such as one that is focused on semantics and grammar and written representation of a language, and then say, ‘see, only humans do this so only humans have language.’

Dogs communicate. They use their whole bodies — ears, tails, hackles, eyes, facial expressions, as well as scent and sound, to communicate. And dogs excel at reading the nonverbal communication of other dogs, humans, and often of other animals like cats. Other non-humans do this as well. Dogs are able to read humans far better than humans can read humans.

And dogs understand a lot of what we say to them. They might be assigning meaning to a combination of words and body language cues to understand our feelings, our desires, our mood rather than attaching the specific meanings that we do to individual objects or concepts. While I don’t expect Cali to speak to me in English or read the newspaper, much of the communication that I have with Cali — and especially what I had with Jana — is clear and meaningful.

Berns’s discussion of language, how he tested dogs’ understanding of words, and his interpretation of those results are very, very human-centric. He talks about the mirror test, which I believe is not a fair test for dogs. His comments on dogs’ lack of a sense of self or others: “My beloved Callie probably didn’t have abstract representations of me or my wife or my children. No, I was just that guy who feeds me hot dogs …” are off-base.

Dogs’ sense of self and others is primarily rooted in scent, not sight or sound. Berns himself showed that dogs recognize the scent of family members and respond differently than to the scent of unfamiliar humans or dogs. So I was mystified and saddened by what felt like a dismissal of the individuality of dogs’ selves and their relationships with key humans (or non-humans).

Despite a few disappointing chapters, I do recommend the book. I the insights into how dogs’ brains work are fascinating, and even where I disagree with Berns’s conclusions, I enjoy learning about his research and his understanding of dogs. Dr. Berns is still my favorite neuroscience researcher, and he’s a great writer. Check out both of his books if you haven’t already!

 

Tales Tails Tell

Everyone knows that a wagging tail means a happy dog, right?

Nope. What “everyone knows” is not always true. Dog say a lot with their tails. Sometimes, they are showing happiness, playfulness, and friendliness. Sometimes the tail wag means the exact opposite. How can you tell?

Koala is wagging her entire tail in the video above. She’s excited about something (Deni is probably fixing her dinner!). If she were standing, the tail would flow down from her back and the wag would extend widely to both sides of her body. This is a happy, friendly, excited tail wag.

A tail held level with the body or a little lower, wagging quickly, usually means good things. The dog is happy or excited. When a dog is really happy, she might wag her whole body. This is known as the tail wagging the dog.

When Cali is greeting someone she adores (by which I mean “someone she has met before”), her entire body wags and wriggles with joy. Not all dogs are that exuberant, but it’s usually possible to see signs of happiness other than the waggy tail: soft, open facial expression, bright eyes, a smile, that wriggly body. In Cali’s case, this can be challenging to distinguish from her whole-tail happy wag when she spies someone she hasn’t yet become best friends with. The chance to meet someone new is almost as great as seeing someone adored, so she wags high and fast then too. But maybe a little less of the body wag …

The tail gets higher as the dog becomes more aroused … or more assertive. A tail held high radiates confidence but could also indicate aggression. If you’re approached by a dog you don’t know with tail straight up, be cautious, especially if the tail is doing more of a vibration than a wag.

An exception is the “helicopter tail,” a maneuver sometimes performed by Labs and Goldens when they are playing ball. I am sure there are other times (and other dogs) where the helicopter move shows up. It’s a high tail that make complete circles over the dog’s back, like a helicopter rotor.

A slow thump often indicates a happy, relaxed dog. But a slow wag with the tail low, when the dog is standing, could mean the dog is checking out something that makes her feel anxious or unsure. The narrower the sweep of the wag, the more nervous the dog. People often mistake a slow, conservative wag for a welcome and move in to pet the dog. This can be a mistake; an anxious dog who feels crowded or threatened could respond badly. I’d let a dog showing this nervousness have her space, and I wouldn’t make direct eye contact. If, after sniffing me, she wanted to approach, great! But I wouldn’t push the issue. A tail held very low or even tucked signifies submission or nervousness; it might move a bit but, this is not really a tail wag, even if the tail is moving.

As it dawns on a dog that the anticipated good thing is not going to happen or will be delayed, the excited, happy wag could slow into the uncertain or anxious wag; this is one of many ways that dogs converse with us using their tails.

There’s more to a tail wag than tail height and width of the wag. A study done in Italy a few years ago found that dogs wag more to the right when they see someone they know and more to the left if they are nervous. The study also determined that dogs can read that nervousness in other dogs’ tail wags and are likely to respond by becoming anxious when they saw left-wagging dogs.

These whole-tail wags are easy enough to read once you practice a bit. But sometimes dogs say much more with their tails. Let’s look at Koala’s unique tail-speak:

I’ve never seen another dog do this exactly, but the partial tail wag is great communication. Koala’s thinking about something: she might be listening hard to what Deni is saying and trying to understand; she might be hoping that Deni is about to give her a wonderful treat and watching closely to see if she can tell. This tail-tip wag means that Koala is thinking about something, solving a problem. But it’s a good problem; she’s tentatively, hopefully, anticipating something good.

So, pay attention to what your dog’s tail is telling you. It’s a great way to read her mood and improve your two-way conversation.

 

Still Life: Girl with Tennis Ball

Cali and I recently moved to a new home. It has a yard. I’m not sure whether Cali has actually noticed anything but the yard. She wants to spend all of her waking hours in the yard. And with close to 16 hours of daylight these days, that’s a lot of hours. She’d sleep out there too, if I’d let her. What does she do out there? I’ll let you see for yourselves in a series of still life photos:

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Aromatherapy for Dogs

Cali’s favorite way to relax is curling up with her beloved tennis ball.

Aromatherapy for dogs seems like an obvious idea, but it’s only recently been formally studied as a way to calm dogs in  a stressful environment.

A small study looked at the effects of four scents: Coconut, vanilla, valerian, and ginger, on dogs in a shelter / kennel environment, a noisy and stressful environment. All four scents were found to reduce activity and vocalization; coconut and ginger also increased the amount of time dogs spent sleeping.

It was a single, small study, and I hope that more research is done on whether scents can calm dogs and which scents are most effective. I have some products that are intended to calm anxious dogs, but I don’t know that they’ve been particularly effective with my own dogs. One is lavender and chamomile. I’ve used T-Away, an essential oil blend, with Cali, and it sometimes calms her right down, but other times doesn’t seem to have an effect. I think the difference is whether she’s excited (no effect) versus anxious (seems to help a lot), but I have not done careful enough study to be sure. A DAP diffuser seemed to help with Jana’s anxiety, but again, my study of one dog doesn’t really say much about whether this is an effective treatment.

But, given the way most humans respond to scents — some are calming, others are irritating — along with dogs’  sensitivity to scent, it seems likely that aromatherapy could work for many dogs. I’d love to see something as easy to implement as infusions of relaxing scents become a standard protocol at kennels and shelters, maybe vet clinics — anywhere that stressed-out, anxious dogs are likely to be found.

Aromatherapy might also be a nice, easy way to help dogs with noise and thunderstorm anxiety. That would be a great direction for some additional research. I have a growing personal interest in this topic, as Cali has recently shown some anxiety during severe thunderstorms. I don’t think she’s reacting to noise, but rather to changes in air pressure or something else that started quite a while before the actual rain, thunder, and lightning. Melatonin helps, but it would be nice to have some other ways to ease her anxiety.

A caveat: The scents that tend to be soothing to humans might not have the same effect on dogs, and scents that they find calming might be unpleasant to us. Even if that turned out to be the case, it would be interesting to know more about how scent affects dogs’ moods and energy or activity levels.

In addition to calming them, scents could probably be used in other ways to work with dogs or influence their moods and behavior. I learned a lot about dogs’ sense of smell from Being a Dog by Alexandra Horowitz, but I don’t remember any mention of scent as a way to calm (or energize) dogs.

 

Perfect (Selective) Hearing

A partially peeled banana

There’s something about the sound of a banana being separated from the bunch. That little snapping sound. For dogs who love bananas, like Cali and my first dog, Timo, that sound is magic.

Timo could be outside, busy with doggy things, but if I touched the bananas, he’d be there in a flash. Cali currently can’t get too far from me; we live in an apartment with no yard. And her sensitive ears never miss that sound. Or the sound of a knife cutting into a cucumber. She does love cucumbers …

Cali, a golden retriever, licks her lips in anticipation of a treat.
Did someone mention cucumbers?

Her hearing excels in other ways too. If I rustle a treat bag or the bag her food comes in … touch my keys … move a tennis ball while looking through the closet. Certain key sounds carry extremely well. Jana could hear a whispered, “Cooookieeee” from a mile away.

On the other hand, other sounds never seem to penetrate the fog of a Cali daydream. Her name, for example. Or a “let’s go,” when she’s perfectly happy where she is.

Dog enthusiasts make much of dogs’ keen sense of smell. Rightfully so; it is amazing. But their hearing is no less fascinating.