The Thinking Dog Blog

Shame on You, Barbra

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog
Irreplaceable (photo by Cathy Condon)

I don’t think I will be able to watch “Yentl” or “Funny Girl” again. I am so angry with Barbra Streisand. And with the news and entertainment media that have given her a platform to talk about cloning her dog.  NPR used a cute headline to share Streisand’s cloning story; the New York Times offered her a platform on its op-ed pages to promote her vile choice, in addition to its dishonestly positive article on pet cloning. Though NPR briefly mentions the down sides of cloning, the media coverage generally presents the option of cloning as if it’s a normal thing to want, to do, to advocate.

It’s not.

Cloning is horrible for so many reasons.

First of all, no matter how good the process gets, some aspects of how dogs reproduce mean that dozens, sometimes hundreds of dogs must be used, yes used, like machinery, to create a single clone. Or attempt to; it does not always work. These dogs are treated as machinery. Dogs. Thinking, feeling, loving dogs, treated as factory machines. To learn a little about this process, read my review of Dog, Inc. To learn even more, read the book; you will be truly and justifiably horrified.

For someone who loves her dog so much that she can’t live without a flawed facsimile of that dog to be willing to put hundreds of dogs through torture to … what? Pretend that dogs lucky enough to be owned by wealthy people don’t die? This, to me, is unconscionable.

Secondly, a clone is a genetic copy, but it is not in any way the same dog. The dog might not even look the same. Barbra is quoted as saying she’s waiting to see if the clone puppies have her late dog’s brown eyes. (They should.) But even if the dogs look the same as the “original” (the clonee?), they are not mini-Samanthas.

They — like every dog on the planet — are individuals. They deserve to be loved and appreciated for who they are, not who they replace. The owner of the clone is different — older, more experienced, saddened by the loss of a beloved canine friend — than when she got the clonee. She will raise the puppy differently. People often get two or more clone puppies, so the experience of being raised as one of multiple pups makes everything different — for the owner and the pups. Each individual has her own experiences — positive and negative — that shape her. Each dog is an individual and deserves to be treated as one.

The selfishness of causing suffering to hundreds of real dogs just to satisfy an unrealistic whim is nauseating. The waste of money is as well. Someone who truly loved dogs would use the tens of thousands of dollars it costs to clone a dog to instead alleviate suffering of existing dogs — not cause more of it.

And there are myriad ways to honor the memory of a beloved dog. Artists everywhere make beautiful jewelry with bits of the dog’s cremains or DNA or fur or nose print. If that’s not your style, how about a memorial stone for your garden or mantel? Write a poem or a book. Build a shrine in your living room. But don’t torture other dogs.

I miss Jana every day, as does Cali. But I never for an instant considered cloning her. I am even leery of getting a white golden retriever puppy with big brown eyes … OK, if someone offered me one, I’d have a very hard time saying no … but I would not want or expect a mini-Jana. Jana was unique. As is every other puppy.

I have several large heart-shaped rocks that Jana brought me; they hold a place of honor on my bookcase, along with photos of Jana. I plan to bury her cremains in my backyard and plant a blueberry bush in her memory (we went blueberry picking together and she loved to eat the fallen berries). But I can never replace Jana, and I wouldn’t try.

Cloning is not a valid option and, despite gushing, positive media coverage, it is not a harmless choice. Shame on you, Barbra, for using the media and your celebrity to promote a cruel and heartless practice, just because it makes you smile.

 

Update, 3/6: I am so happy to see that I am not the only dog-lover-who-writes who is angry with Ms. Streisand. Read on:

The Hidden Dogs of Cloning, by Julie Hecht

You Love Dogs? Then Don’t Clone Them, by Jessica Pierce (author of Run, Spot, Run)

Even Dog, Inc. author John Woestendiek weighs in: Barbra Streisand has cloned her dog twice

 

Dogs Can Get the Flu, Too

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog , , ,
Cali’s not sick; she’s just bored.

Has your dog been coughing, sneezing, and acting lethargic?

If so, get her quickly to a vet; she could have the flu!

Canine flu does not infect humans, but it can spread easily among dogs who come into contact with a sick dog — or an infected toy, bowl, bedding or clothing item, or other object. Dogs can also catch the flu from sick dogs’ sneezing and coughing.

Flu viruses (among many species) change and adapt quickly and also “jump” to new species. One form of canine flu that exists in the U.S. was discovered in 2004 in greyhounds in Florida; it was found to have originated from a horse flu. A second strain of canine flu originated from a bird flu and was first detected in the U.S. in 2015.

Though one or both strains have been seen in most parts of the U.S., the number of cases is still small. If your dog is rarely around other dogs and seems healthy, there’s probably nothing to worry about.

Canine flu is not seasonal, and many dogs show no symptoms. Severely ill dogs can get pneumonia, but that is rare. Canine flu has not spread everywhere in the U.S. yet, but some areas have had outbreaks this winter, including California and Nevada.

Dogs who are frequently around other dogs, at boarding or day care facilities or dog parks, for example might be good candidates for a doggy flu shot (yes there is a vaccine!). Check with your vet. The vaccination requires two shots, several weeks apart.

A Task Only a Dog Could Do

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog , , ,
Is Cali a budding search dog?

I heard a great story on NPR recently about dogs helping people. OK, so stories about dogs helping people are nothing new, but this one is different.

I’ve spent a lot of time in Northern California, mostly in Sonoma County not far from where the horrific wildfires burned 5,000 homes and businesses a few months ago. The story was about — stay with me here — trained cadaver dogs helping people whose houses had burned. The dogs were assisting people who had had cremains of family members in their homes.

The dogs are actually able to distinguish the ashes of human cremains from the massive amounts of ash on the home sites.

The forensics expert said that the texture and appearance is different, so, once the dogs alerted to the presence of cremains, the human team was able to separate out the cremains and return them to the families.

A woman interviewed on the show said that her mom had passed away not long before the fires and she’d been planning a memorial service and burial … when the fires intervened. Having lost everything, she was devastated to lose her mom’s remains as well.

Cadaver dog teams came in and the searchers had two dogs, separately, search and alert. If they alerted to the same spot, the humans got busy.

I’m not at all surprised that dogs can do this; I think that dogs can identify and seek out any unique scent, no matter how many other scents are mingled with and surrounding it. I love that people are creative enough — and trust their dogs enough — to come up with an endless variety of ways dogs can help humans do things that, let’s face it, there’s no way humans could do without dogs.

A great book that tells more than you’ve ever wanted to know about training and working cadaver dogs is What the Dog Knows. But it’s not only cadavers … dogs sniff out rare and endangered wildlife (or their scat); living humans; drugs; disease; explosives … anything you can imagine, someone has (or could) trained a dog to find it.

When Cali’s complaining about being bored, I know the problem isn’t with her; it’s my lack of imagination in finding new challenges and games for her. The problem’s hardly ever the dog; it’s the human.

Wipe Her Feet!

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog , , ,

Winter’s back. We’ve had  a pretty mild winter here in Missoula (much to Cali’s dismay), but after a couple weeks of 40s and 50s and melting snow, we woke up to a couple of inches of new snow on Friday.

Actually, I woke up to the distinctive scraping sounds of the guys who zip along our sidewalks on ATVs with mini-snowplows, clearing the sidewalks by 6 am. It’s miraculous.

Cali greeted the new snow with delight and romped around a bit on the “grassy” area by our patio. Once I was fully dressed, we ventured out for a walk. The snowplows are reliably followed by the bucket brigade, spreading blue snow melt stuff. It’s salt and other chemicals.

It’s terrible for dog feet. Some dogs are very sensitive to it; I remember a puppy I was training crying in pain as soon as his feet came into contact with it. Cali’s feet seem tougher, but I am very careful to wipe them with a towel and with baby wipes (organic, natural ones) so that she’s not licking the salty stuff off later.

There are other ways to help dog feet cope with winter:

  • I rub Musher’s Secret into Cali’s feet every week or so. It creates a barrier that protects her pads. It helps protect against hot pavement in the summer, too.
  • For hairy-footed dogs (like Cali), regular trims are helpful. The less hair there is between the dog’s pads, the less the snow balls up and sticks, which can be very uncomfortable for the dog.
  • For dogs who walk on snow, snow-melt chemicals, and ice often, boots are a good idea. Most dogs dislike this idea, but they can often be convinced (bribed) to wear their boots.
  • I haven’t tried this yet, but I’ve heard that vet wrap — that stretchy elastic bandage wrap that comes in bright colors — can be wrapped around the feet to improve traction and provide a barrier to the ice and chemicals.
  • If you take care of your own sidewalks, choose pet-safe snow melt. It’s more expensive, but less caustic to the pup’s feet.

Do you have other tips? Please share!

Have a safe and FUN winter!

Every Dog Needs a Hobby …

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog , ,

Cali is often bored. I work from home, so I spend several hours a day at the computer. Cali finds this tedious, and often suggests alternative activities. She’ll bring her ball in and suggest a game, for example. But she has also taken up a couple of pastimes on her own.

When we were still living in Petaluma, Cali (and Jana) loved spending their days out in our little yard while I worked. I put up a bird feeder, and we soon had a large flock of regular diners. They’d scatter instantly if I came out, which I found a bit hurtful. I was the one who bought and served their meals, after all. They’d settle back in to the feeder if I sat outside quietly, though, so I forgave them. They never minded the girls, though. Cali could come and go as she pleased. She spent many hours with her bird friends.

Here in Missoula, I put the bird feeder up near our patio. Cali has to watch from inside, but she lies on the carpet by the sliding patio doors and watches the birds. There’s a chubby squirrel who often pays a visit, and Cali gets very agitated. She’ll run to the office; I’m not sure if she’s trying to look out the window here or just tell me what’s going on, but she runs back and forth, panting. So I get up and chase the squirrel away. This happens three or four times and then the squirrel gives up for a few days. He always comes back, though. I suspect that he has several bird feeders, perhaps all equipped with tormentable dogs. In any case, he’s quite well fed.

The birds do not fly away when Cali is there, or when she comes and goes. But, like the Petaluma birds, as soon as I walk into the living room, they disappear. When I go out to refill the feeder, there’s not a bird in sight. They’re close by, though. They reappear within seconds after I go back inside.

When the birds leave, Cali moves to the bedroom. From the bed, she can watch the comings and goings of everyone in our building. She’s always sure to let me know when UPS or FedEX is about to knock on the door, but, unless another dog spends too much time standing outside our window, she’s content to watch quietly.

Cali’s other hobby is watching dog and wolf shows on TV. She’s sometimes interested in other nature-themed documentaries, but, really, it’s wolves and dogs. The other day, I was fiddling with a new digital antenna and managed to tune in PBS, crystal-clear. A show on arctic wolves was on. They were eating (I was not, thankfully). Cali ran in from the bedroom and sat right up in front of the TV, mesmerized. My mom always told me not to sit that close, but I didn’t think that a few minutes of watching would harm Cali’s eyes. As soon as the wolves were replaced with people, Cali lost interest.

Then, a few days later, I got a text message with a video of Dora (Cali’s sister) playing with her friends. As soon as Cali heard Dora’s bark on the video, she came running into my office. I held the phone where she could see it, and she was again, fascinated. I don’t know that she recognized Dora (maybe!), but she was certainly interested in watching the dogs play.

Cali’s great aunt, Oriel, used to love watching TV. Jana was not much of a TV girl. I’m really curious about what the TV watchers are thinking. And, who knows? Maybe Cali will improve my viewing habits. She’s shown no interest in Grey’s Anatomy, for example. Maybe I need to watch more PBS documentaries, just to spend more quality time with my dog.

Remembering Our Friends

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog , ,

Beau, a boxerA lot of my friends have senior dogs. Unfortunately, that means that a lot more of my friends had senior dogs. Over and over, I face the loss of a friend, a dog I have known for years. A family dog like Beau, who loved my visits because he got extra walks and tons of attention (not that he was exactly starved for love and affection otherwise). A longtime friend’s dog like Molly, who was a frequent guest in my home, or little Casey. (They were both poodles, though, so it might not be fair to lump them in with dogs; I am convinced that poodles are a link between canines and humans, tending more toward the human than any other dog breed.)Molly, a black standard poodle

Each time a beloved dog passes away, I search for the perfect card. I’m always disappointed that the best dog-product stores have all the top treats, toys, clothing, and accessories for dogs, endless adorable birthday and thanks-for-taking-care-of-me cards … and pathetically few sympathy cards. And many of the few they do have are, well, awful. In addition to the card, Deni and I have a custom that we’re getting better and better at honoring. We choose a charity that we are sure that both the late dog and her or his human would support and make a memorial donation. I have to admit that I have missed doing this on many occasions, but I do feel that it is a meaningful way to mark the life of a beloved friend. Unfortunately, beyond offering these gestures, we haven’t come up with a way to make the loss any easier.

A number of books have been written about the loss of a dog. A particularly good one is Anna Quindlen’s Good Dog. Stay. I haven’t re-read it in a while, though I should; I have recommended it over and over, though.

What do you do to help a friend through the loss of a dog? What have you found helpful? Let me know, and a future Thinking Dog blog post will feature reader suggestions.

 

How does getting a second dog change your relationship with your first dog?

Pam Hogle Ask The Thinking Dog, The Thinking Dog Blog , , , ,

Jana and Cali, aged 9 weeks, play tug

A reader recently asked me how my relationship with Jana changed when I brought Cali home. Cali was an 8-week-old puppy; bringing an additional adolescent or adult dog into the family would probably affect the older dog differently.

I expected Jana to want nothing to do with the puppy, but within a day, she was gently playing with Cali and allowing her to share her bed. Jana was a fantastic big sister, and, as I said in response to this question, we “co-parented” Cali.

This mostly worked out well. Jana definitely helped Cali learn where to toilet, for example; Cali was a very clean puppy who had no accidents. I taught Cali many of the house rules, such as which furniture dogs could and could not use (this did not always go so well); Jana taught her other house rules, such as the “egg rule” — anyone who makes eggs has to make enough to share with all family members. Cali has, in turn, taught that sacred family rule to Koala.

Jana and Cali, aged 9 weeks, rest after playingJana was protective of Cali and taught her to play tug and keep away and other essential dog games. She led by example, showing Cali that the play tunnel was fun, not scary, and that nail trims and toothbrushing led to tasty treats. When we went to the dog beach, Jana provided thorough instruction, including demonstrations, of how to get soaked and then wriggle in the sand to ensure maximum coverage and sand retention for the ride home. Cali has surpassed her teacher in this endeavor.

As for my relationship with Jana, well, we were the grown-ups, nurturing and educating the baby. Jana and I shared many eye-rolls watching Cali’s puppy antics. We took walks together to enjoy some adult time, and I tried to reinforce Jana’s status as the second-in-command. Jana was not shy about asking for belly rubs, games of tug, or walks to the places she wanted to go. Cali is pretty easygoing, but she did try to steal Jana’s bed and claim more than her share of attention, and she sulked if Jana or I rebuked her.

Cali, age 10 weeks, shares Jana's bedI think what’s hard about adding a dog of any age is giving each dog individual attention. Jana and Cali were very different personalities, in addition to being at completely different stages of their lives. Jana was slowing down, due to arthritis and age, just as Cali became an active (very, very active) adolescent and young adult. I hated leaving Jana behind to do active exercise with Cali, and I hated denying Cali the hiking and other activities that Jana and I had enjoyed when she was young. So we made a lot of compromises. I took Cali to agility and Jana to nosework classes. I took everyone to the beach. Every day, we walked, at Jana speed, to a park where Cali could race after her ball while Jana socialized with the other adults (humans) and a couple of other older goldens. I’d like to think that each of my girls got what they needed and deserved, but I am sure there were times when one or both felt that her sister was claiming too much time or attention.

Is Cali a Wagg’n Dog?

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog , , ,

Cali plays with a new friend at Wagg'n indoor dog park

Last week, I wrote about dog parks in general. Here, I want to share Cali’s experience with an indoor dog park, Wagg’n, in Missoula. I think the concept is great. Missoula, Montana, has a lot of winter. Cold, gray winter. Plenty of fluffy snowy winter, too, the kind of days we want to play outside. But when it was 7 degrees, I was really happy to have an indoor play space available.

The park is set up nicely. It’s a huge warehouse-type space with a high ceiling — including several skylights, so it’s bright — and it is bright and clean. The floor is matted with recycled rubber mats, and there’s a potty area with fake grass, an efficient enzymatic cleaning system, and drinking fountains. It does not smell doggy or kennel-ey at all. There’s a double gate at the entrance, and there are always at least two staffers, usually three, on hand.

On the rare occasions that a dog has gotten out of hand while I’ve been there, the staff are calm and professional in how they de-escalate. I have never seen any dog show aggression while I’ve been there. The worst I’ve seen is overly exuberant play or a dog that keeps trying to engage another dog who is clearly saying he’s not interested, is overwhelmed, or is stressed out.

I have seen several dogs show signs of stress, however. Including Cali. Some dogs there for daycare spend their time under a sofa or on the lap of any available human, for example. Others hang out at the gate, trying to escape. Not good.

Cali is a bit of an enigma. She gets excited when we drive there, and she clearly knows where we’re going (it’s out by the Missoula airport in the middle of nowhere … we never drive that way when we’re going anywhere but Wagg’n). She’s excited when we get out of the car and happily — excitedly — greets the owner and staff. Then … she hangs back a bit when we head into the play area. She likes to be on the sofa or a bench, often with me, at first. Within a few minutes, though, she jumps into the fray and chooses a dog to play with. She can be a little bratty and pushy if the chosen dog doesn’t reciprocate … leading to intervention from me, Cali getting back on the sofa, etc.

She enjoys the playtime. She also spends a lot of time with me on the chairs there, drooling (a sign that she’s excited and/or stressed). She wants to go there, but while we’re there, I watch her pretty closely. When she’s had enough, which can be after 15 minutes or after an hour and a half, she wants to go. Now.

I wouldn’t leave Cali there all day for daycare or board her there. She’d be overwhelmed by that much stimulation and social time. Other dogs are fine with it; many of the regulars are happy and cheerful whenever I see them. But as a place to take a break, stretch her legs, and play, it’s great. And very necessary during a long, cold winter!

Are Dog Parks Worth the Risk?

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog , ,

Cali holds her tennis ball at Jacob's Island dog park, early on a cold morning. A light dusting of snow covers the grass.

The current issue of the Whole Dog Journal has a section on dog parks. Though the article itself offers solid commentary and advice (of course it does; Pat Miller wrote it!), the sidebar with comments from several trainers is pretty negative. I’ve been to a lot of dog parks, so I figured this was a good chance to weigh in.

If you are thinking about heading out to the dog park, start with Miller’s seven things to consider, but don’t neglect an honest look at your dog(s), the dog’s needs, and your own circumstances.

My best dog park experience was in Petaluma, where Jana, Cali, and I walked to a local park every day (sometimes twice!). The park has posted off-leash dog run hours and is mostly fenced. When we discovered it shortly after moving to Petaluma, a regular group of dogs and their people could be found there. We soon became part of the 8 am crowd. Jana greeted each human and inspected their pockets and hands for treats, Cali occasionally played with suitable dogs but mostly bugged me to throw her ball, and I got to hang out with some fun and interesting dog-loving people. Over the three and a half years we lived in Petaluma, dogs passed away, new puppies joined the crowd, and the human group changed. Toward the end of our time there, Jana was gone, and Cali found the group of mainly young, high-energy dogs less to her liking. I was working in an office, so we went much earlier in the morning on weekdays and had the place mostly to ourselves. Weekends were more challenging.

Now, in our first Missoula, Montana, winter, we’ve joined Wagg’n, an indoor dog park. It’s also a daycare and boarding business, so the mix of dogs varies. We’re getting to know some of the daycare regulars, and Cali and I each have our favorites. Like the Petaluma park, it’s not divided into small- and large-dog areas, which would worry me more if I had a small dog. Cali’s not that interested in boisterous group play, but she usually finds one or two smaller dogs, goldens, or Labs to play with (she’s kind of a doggy racist and likes only retrievers and little dogs). Being inside changes the nature of the space considerably; it’s echo-ey in a way that an outdoor park is not, and dogs do play differently on the rubber-matted floor (with a nicely designed astroturf potty area) than they would on grass or dirt.

Before the weather turned cold and mornings became dark, we went to Jacob’s Island, Missoula’s downtown dog park, several times a week. We went early, though, on purpose, so Cali and I could play ball without her having to worry that some other dog would “steal” her ball.

These are my primary experiences of having a “regular” park, but I’ve been a drop-in visitor at dozens of dog parks. I’ve driven cross country multiple times with multiple dogs. And when traveling with dogs anywhere that’s more than about 4 hours, I generally look for a place to let the dog run and stretch her legs. Visiting dog parks “on the way” does not allow for the type of research that Miller advises, but I approach these visits as I would any new place I take my dogs. I watch for a few minutes to get a sense of the energy level, see what kinds of play the dogs are engaged in, and I look at whether the people are paying attention to their dogs or just looking at phones or talking to each other and “letting dogs be dogs.”

Like the trainers quoted in the WDJ article, I’ve heard lots of dog park horror stories, and I know that a bad experience can lead to serious injury (or worse); at minimum, it can set back your training and socialization goals considerable, shake your dog’s confidence, or lead him to fear other dogs. Though I have never personally had a bad dog park experience, I am not unaware of the risks.

I won’t take a dog into a park where I see lots of wild or rough play or people who are not paying attention to the dogs. If I cannot tell which people go with which dogs, I take that as a bad sign. The people need to be obviously watching what is going on with their dogs; otherwise, how can they intervene if needed? The person has to be the dog’s advocate and protector in any social situation, whether with other dogs or with humans (especially if children are around). I’ve leashed up my dogs and left parks where the dynamic changes, a particularly troublesome dog enters, or I feel that things are getting too wild.

At the same time, looking for dog parks is as much a part of my road-trip planning as looking for pet-friendly hotels. I can’t imagine asking my dog to spend 8-10 hours in the car without giving her a chance to run and play. Often, just wanting to throw the ball for a few minutes, I look for a corner or end of the park with fewer dogs and head there. If another dog seems overly interested in Cali’s ball, rather than subject her to the stress of worrying about it, I’ll pick up the ball and instead lead Cali on a brisk walk around the perimeter of the park.

The bottom line is that, while aware of potential problems with dog parks, I am usually willing to try out a park and find a way to make it work for my dog and our needs at the moment. I’d never leave Cali unsupervised, and that means no phone either — eyes on the dog at all times (I do sometimes take photos). It also means watching other dogs and intervening if they are rough, pushy, or overwhelming to Cali. Finally, it means being ready to pick up and leave quickly if necessary.

Getting to Know You …

Pam Hogle The Thinking Dog Blog , , , ,
Cali’s tail never stops wagging as she follows her nose.

A recent column in the Whole Dog Journal had these two sentences, part of a longer description of a coonhound learning to trust humans (the column is well worth a read; in fact, nearly everything in WDJ is worth reading):

The only clue we had that she actually did like attention was that if you sat in her presence, she would come and stand very close to you; she liked to put her face very near your face – a quite uncomfortable sensation with a dog who has no expression, and isn’t wagging her tail or trying to lick you. She would just approach, stand very close, and hold very still – odd.

This caught my attention because Cali does the same thing. Well, Cali has a very expressive face and is nearly always wagging her tail, sometimes even in her sleep. But the ‘putting her nose right next to people’s mouths’ part is the same.

I think that dogs do this to learn about people. They pick up a lot of information from smells, far more than whether we’re overdue for a dose of mouthwash. They learn about other dogs that way, both in person and by sniffing the ground.

Cali often does this breathing exercise while also giving the person a hug (she gives great hugs), possibly begging for a treat (or sniffing the person’s plate), or nuzzling the person. But often, she just inhales … soaking in the essence of her friend. And almost everyone is her friend — or would be if she could only meet them!

I’m not sure whether Cali is doing this more, as well as sniffing the ground more carefully and thoroughly since we started doing scent work classes or I am just noticing it more. But she does seem to be very attuned to her nose lately. When we played ball in the snow this morning, though, I noticed that she doesn’t seem to be able to detect the scent as easily. She ran right past her ball several times, sniffing the air, and did not seem to know it was there. She’s generally very good at finding it with her nose.

Of course, it could just be that she loves running around in the snow …