The Education of Will

Photo of the book cover of The Education of WillPatricia McConnell wrote on her blog about her frustration that most bookstores place The Education of Will with the pet books. She’s right. It’s only partly a dog book; a wonderful dog book, by the way. It’s also a memoir. But far more powerful than either of those, it’s a book about overcoming trauma, understanding how experiencing trauma affects every aspect of the survivor’s life and behavior — and gathering the courage, compassion, and forgiveness to face the trauma and heal.

Though chock-full of stories about Will, Dr. McConnell’s troubled border collie puppy, and sprinkled with tales of other traumatized and terrified dogs she has helped over the years, The Education of Will is primarily Dr. McConnell’s story. It is deeply personal; writing in is courageous and testament to her ability to examine the worst experiences a person can have, work through them, and share them in all their frightening, embarrassing, horrifying detail.

If you’re a dog person, you should read this book — and Dr. McConnell’s other books, her blog … If you are a human being, you should read this book. If you’re a dog with fear-based behavior problems or a dog who’s experienced trauma, you should read this book (ask your human to help).

Will, as an eight-week-old puppy, reacted to sudden noises with explosive terror. Dr. McConnell has no explanation for this; he did not, as far as she knows, experience any trauma in his first weeks. He was terrified of other dogs, particularly if they were inside his house. However, he adored any and all people. Her work with him was painstaking and slow; they experienced frustrating setbacks, as it is not always possible to control a frightening environment and avoid noises, dogs, injuries, and any previously unknown triggers.

As I read the first chapters, I wondered whether I’d have the patience and skill to work through problems like Will’s. I thought about how the agony of his early weeks and months affected his overall quality of life and that of Dr. McConnell’s other dogs. I wondered whether there are more than a handful of behaviorist or trainers who could cope with a dog like Will. I know that there are literally thousands of dogs like him.

Unfortunately, many dog owners see the behavior of a dog like Will — lunging, barking, maybe snarling or even biting — as aggression. It often manifests as aggression, sure, but at its core, it is fear. In her work with aggressive and fearful dogs, Dr. McConnell had to face her own fears as well as convince the dogs’ owners that their dogs needed compassion and patience as they worked to overcome the fear underlying the dogs’ aggression.

Too often when dogs act out, trainers perpetuate the myth that the dog is “being dominant” and that owners need to “be the alpha.” This approach only encourages responses, like yelling at the dog, hitting him, or administering leash corrections, that are likely to exacerbate the dog’s fear and escalate the aggression. Fearful and traumatized dogs need lots of patience, gentleness, and understanding, not violence or punishment. Some will recover; many will not. Will is so lucky to have landed with Dr. McConnell — as are the thousands of clients and dogs she’s helped throughout her career.

This is the best dog book and non-dog book that I have read in a long time. In case you are still wondering where I stand: Four paws up. Read this book!

Are Raw Diets Safe?

Jana holds her food bowl in her mouth

A recent Canine Corner post by Dr. Stanley Coren, a well-known writer on canine cognition strongly suggests that they are not. I’d like to present an opposing view of this often contentious question.

Full disclosure: I feed Cali a partially raw diet; I did the same for Jana for several years and she thrived on it. Cali’s sister Dora recently added raw food to her diet, and she’s healthier and more energetic than I have ever seen her. Other dogs I know have had similar experiences. So, with some caveats, I favor raw or partially raw diets. How’s that for hedging my bets?

I have a lot of respect for Dr. Coren; I’ve read most of his (copious) work on canine intelligence and relationships with people; I’ve even taken a graduate seminar with him. He’s a psychologist, though; not a nutritionist, so I am skeptical of his advice on canine nutrition.

His column starts with a terrible story about someone who fed raw until her child got salmonella; he then goes into detail about why many veterinarians recommend against raw diets and how the people who feed raw diets tend not to trust vets. I have no idea if the statistics he quotes are accurate or representative. But it doesn’t really matter.

I go to my veterinarian, as I go to a doctor, for medical advice, diagnosis and treatment of medical problems. Just as my doctor might advise me to lose weight or warn that my weight could cause health problems, I’d expect my vet to warn me if my dog were severely overweight. (If my golden retriever were underweight, I’d already know there was a problem!) If a medical condition indicated a particular dietary restriction, I’d expect the vet to tell me that, too. But if I needed more detailed diet advice, I’d go to a dietician, not my internist. Similarly, when I seek nutrition information for my dogs, I look to experts who specialize in canine diet and nutrition.

In most cases, that is not the vet. Surprised?

Just as vets are the wrong address for questions on behavior and training, the vet is not the best source of information on canine diet. Of course, just as some vets are also certified companion animal behaviorists, some take an interest in nutrition and become experts, even board-certified nutritionists. But these are the exception. And the nutrition courses that vet schools offer are unlikely to focus intensely on canine nutrition; vets learn to treat many species of pet and farm animals.

I’m fortunate that one of Cali’s vets has taken a deep interest in canine nutrition and has continued to study nutrition and new research throughout her career. This vet firmly believes in and advocates a raw diet for dogs. She urges low-carb diets, too, and, since most kibbles have a lot of carbs, she’s not a huge fan of kibble. She argues, convincingly, that fresh, real food is far more healthful, and, based on dogs’ ancestry, a more natural diet for dogs than hyper-processed cooked kibble.

Another source of in-depth information about canine diet is The Whole Dog Journal. It takes no advertising, so is not beholden in any way to pet food companies. This is markedly different from the average vet, who sells (and profits from) so-called “prescription” diets and who may also push a particular line of foods for all their clients. The Whole Dog Journal publishes detailed reviews of canned, dry, and dehydrated raw dog foods every year. It has published several articles exploring the pros and cons of raw diets as well. (See: Raw Dog Food and Salmonella Risks and High Pressure Processing and Your Dog’s Raw Food, for example.) When evaluating commercial foods, WDJ asks probing questions of the manufacturer; it has a fairly high bar for including a company in its list of acceptable or recommended foods. I’ve said it before: If you don’t subscribe to The Whole Dog Journal, you should!

Recently, a nutritionist who works with Deni’s guide dog school recommended a raw diet for Koala, Deni’s guide. Koala has “leaky gut,” and the nutritionist said that the raw diet was easier for her to digest than kibble and would allow her gut to heal. I found that interesting because one of my hesitations with raw diet was that I thought it was recommended only for dogs with a healthy digestive system. But Koala is doing very well; she has not had any of the issues — vomiting, stomach upset, etc. — that she had consistently on a kibble diet.

I still would be very careful about introducing a raw diet to a dog with a compromised immune system, but I think it is a healthful and desirable option for most dogs.

What is my other area of concern? Well, the story that Dr. Coren based his blog post on illustrates it nicely: safe handling.

The woman in the story let her young son feed the dog, handling the raw food. I don’t eat meat or seafood, but when I did, I would not have trusted a child to handle and prepare it safely or to thoroughly clean the utensils that had been in contact with it. Similarly, I would not let a young child feed Cali her raw food or do the cleanup. I wash everything carefully, just as I would with raw meat if I were cooking that for myself. It seems like common sense. But if I had young children in the house, I probably would avoid a raw diet just because it would be harder to enforce the safe handling protocols.

So, all that is a long lead up to this: I think that raw diets are perfectly safe if handled with proper care. The presence of Salmonella in some samples does not worry me; eggs and chicken commonly carry some Salmonella. Many dogs “shed” Salmonella and other pathogens in their feces; that is not an indication that they are sick and most never have symptoms. But it is an argument for picking up your yard often — and washing your hands afterward. Dry foods have more recalls for Salmonella contamination than raw dog foods, though that might just be a question of volume. Lots more dry food is out there than raw!

The bottom line is, we eat food — as do our dogs — from an imperfect system that exists in a world full of germs and pathogens. We therefore should take precautions with all of our food. A raw diet has many, many benefits for dogs, and, if you can afford it and handle it safely, it is something that I think is worth considering.

 

 

 

 

Superdogs in St. Petersburg

Four caped, colorfully painted superdog statues

A pack of canine superheroes is visiting St. Petersburg. It’s a fundraiser for Southeastern Guide Dogs, a guide dog school nearby in Palmetto, FL. Packs will soon establish their territories in Sarasota and Tampa as well. These caped Labrador crusaders are doing their bit to help humanity; the public (that’s us) is invited to vote for our favorites. Each $1 vote trickles a bit of cash to the guide dog school. Each hero was decorated by a different local artist. No voters are illegal, and stuffing the ballot box is recommended. Vote early and vote often! Actually, there is no early voting. Vote online from June 6 through Sept. 18.

The vanguard of what will ultimately be 50 canine heroes took their positions in early March. Their packmates will join them over the next several weeks. When every dog has her (or his) den, the Superheroes on Parade website will post maps, enabling dog lovers to find their favorite pups.

Lots of cities have hosted “decorated sculpture” parades for lots of good causes, but in my opinion, superhero dogs are the best yet.

A Step Too Far

No tech gadgets for this dog!

In December, I wrote about Mood Collars. Shortly after, I heard about another product that goes even farther — it is essentially a Fitbit for dogs. Actually, it’s more than that. It is a comprehensive health, mood, and activity tracker. Big Brother for your pup.

According to the website, the gadget attaches to the dog’s collar and measures your dog’s movements, also recording whether the dog is eating, drinking, sleeping, pacing, etc. Data are sent via wifi to the company’s server. The data are crunched like a good bone, providing info for you, the owner, to access from a dashboard.

Is your dog stressed? Appropriately active? Scratching a lot? Watching too much TV? Ordering pizza on your credit card?

Ok, it doesn’t monitor TV consumption or shopping habits, which is unfortunate, because I think that Cali is addicted to nature shows. But it does have algorithms that, the website claims, can suggest whether the dog is ill, if he’s not drinking enough, or if he’s itchy. The website is chock-full of high techy buzzwords, like “machine learning” and “onboard neural network”— words that crop up in my work all the time, but have no place in my relationship with Cali. It touts the “wellness matrix” developed by vets, which it pairs with data gathered on your dog, over time, to decide whether your dog is active enough, too active, anxious, or showing signs of illness. It sends you alerts, notifications, and suggestions, and you can also monitor the dashboard.

The techy and impersonal nature of this bugs me. Yes, I’d like to know if my dog is sick or anxious, but I am not sure I need to measure “key health and happiness indicators on 6 axes of freedom” to know that; I just need to spend time with her. Of course I want to know if she barks when I am away, though I suspect that my very human neighbors would let me know if she did. The claims to be able to detect “diseases such as hyperactivity, cognition troubles on senior dogs” and “anomalies such as arthrosis” by analyzing a dog’s activity and comparing it with a profile for his age and breed are dubious at best. Some things just can’t be done via remote technology, a thought that occurred to me this week as I filled out a survey from my own healthcare provider. Would I have preferred a phone or video consultation to my office visit this week, it asked. Um, no. Acupuncture by video probably wouldn’t work. Neither does caring for your pet via app.

Even though I leave Cali home while I am at work, I still spend enough time with her to know her as an individual. She’s not a line on a chart. She’s not identical to every other 56-pound dog or every other 4-year-old golden retriever. She’s Cali. I’ve known her since she was 8 weeks old. I can tell if she’s itchy or anxious. I don’t need a $200 gadget to tell me. But the gadget’s Kickstarter campaign has more than 300 supporters, so somebody thinks it’s a good idea.

To be fair, I can see some uses for it. It’d be a useful way to collect research data, since owner reporting is not very reliable. This gadget could help me figure out if Cali really is a return-anticipating dog who knows when I am heading home, which would be cool. Beyond that, though, I am not sure it adds anything that a good dog-person relationship doesn’t already uncover. Sure, if I had my dog in a kennel, I’d like a way to keep tabs on the caretakers, provided that there was wifi in the kennel. But I don’t leave her in a kennel; I leave her with dog sitters whom I trust— and talk to regularly. Besides, Cali already thinks I spend way too much time staring at screens when I should be outside, throwing a ball for her or walking through a park with her. She’s right.

 

Who Gets the Dog?

Dogs are family. That’s obvious to most people who share their lives with family. But under the law, pets are treated like property — no different from a table or a toaster. That causes a host of issues, one of which is, if the family splits up, who gets the dog?

According to the Animal Legal Defense Fund, thirty-two states allow courts to protect pets under domestic violence protective orders. A law passed in 2006 requires that state and local disaster plans include provisions to evacuate and care for pets and service animals. So, slowly, some laws are acknowledging that dogs are not toasters. But, while some judges have been willing to consider pets in divorce court, there has been no legal prod for doing so.

Until now.

Alaska is the first state to require courts to consider the “well-being of the animal” in custody disputes. The law took effect January 17.

While pets are often major points of contention in divorce cases, no one has represented their interests. People fighting about property and messily ending a relationship might, it can be imagined, be concerned with their own feelings; they might also be driven by a desire to seek revenge, hurt the other party, or just to “win,” whatever that means. Their judgment as to what would be best for the beloved dog or cat might be clouded. Recognizing this and specifically directing the court to consider the pets’ interests is a huge step forward.

Kudos to the ALDF, which has long advocated for courts to take this step. And, let’s hope that Alaska starts a fifty-state trend!

Understanding “Human”

How much of what you say does your dog really understand? (And how much of what you don’t even know you are saying does your dog understand?)

The answers “dog experts” will offer for these questions range include:

  • Dogs don’t understand any human language
  • Dogs can learn simple, one-word commands, but not very many and not if they sound similar to one another
  • Dogs understand full sentences; can learn thousands of words, and can even understand grammar and syntax
  • Dogs can read you better than any human can read another; they know your thoughts, feelings, and intentions.

A hint for new readers: I tend toward those last two. I truly feel sorry for dogs who live with people who favor those top two bullet points. Those are just silly.

Jana and I had long, deep conversations. But Jana was exceptional. Cali is a much more typical dog. In fact, Cali is the embodiment of every positive stereotype of dogs, especially of golden retrievers. And she, with shamefully little teaching from me, understands me and other humans — pretty darn well.

She understands the obvious questions, of course: Want to go for a walk / to the park / for a ride? Are you ready for dinner / breakfast? Do you think there might be some eggs left for the dog? OK, the last one might not be so common. But in our house, there is a rule (instituted by Jana and eagerly adopted by Cali, Alberta, Koala, and all visitors) that anyone who makes eggs has to share with all the people in the  house, dog people included.

I can also say things to her like, “Why is there a dog in the kitchen?” (She backs up and carefully sits with her paws exactly on the line between kitchen and not-kitchen.) A variation is: Please wait outside the kitchen. (Same response.) The whole dog, please (when the feet are still planted inside the kitchen). She understands and she’s a dog who is constantly testing boundaries. She even understands what it means when I start counting to three. I don’t even know what it means. Well, I do know that it conveys,  “do what I asked and you ignored right now.” But I have no idea what happens when I get to three. Jana did. And she must have told Cali, because Cali knows too. Whatever it means must be really serious; they respond. So I’ve never actually gotten to three and had to figure it out.

Cali even knows silly things like, “I need my boots!” Of course she does; that is the magical prelude to a) Cali trading each boot for a cookie, followed by b) a walk to the park. Took her about 10 seconds to learn that one, including actually bringing the boots!

Cali’s ability to understand my communication, intentional or not, far exceeds my ability to understand hers. She is an astute reader of my body language — and my mind. She knows when I am about to stop working and get up from the computer. She knows when I say, “Let’s go for a walk,” but I mean, “Let’s go for a walk after I go to the bathroom, eat a cracker, put on my shoes, hunt for a lost glove, answer a phone call, and spend several minutes deciding which shoes and which jacket to wear.” (She waits patiently until shoes and coat are actually on before deigning to reply, by getting excited.)

According to Deni, Cali even knows when I am on my way home, even when I am not following any regular schedule. I can’t verify that, of course, but I have been interested in that possibility since reading Rupert Sheldrake’s work on “return anticipating” dogs several years ago.

It’s about relationship. Cali has been studying me since she moved in exactly four years ago. I talk to her a lot, and we spend a lot of time together. Your dog probably has similar “magical” abilities.

Chaser, the dog who knows more than a thousand words and has demonstrated her understanding of syntax and grammar, got many, many hours of formal education.  Chaser learned language in private tutorials. I definitely think that all dogs who live with people should get some formal education a puppy class or lessons on some basic manners like sitting nicely to greet people and walking politely with humans.

But even with only basic education, your dog will learn an awful lot of language. And she’ll learn to read your communication. Understanding that changed the way I regarded dogs; it has deepened my respect and affection for them.

So go on, talk to your dog. No need to feel silly. She’ll probably surprise you with how much she already understands, and she’ll never get tired of the attention.

What Marshmallow Tests Mean

I’ve written about both Alberta’s and Koala’s adventures with the marshmallow test and I’ve been thinking about what it tells us about each dog. Is Koala a “better” dog because she didn’t have to work as hard as Alberta? Is she more obedient ? (No!) More — or less — intelligent?

Dr. Walter Mischel, the psychologist who originated the test, wrote a book about it a few years ago; he also was interviewed in The Atlantic. The topic of both book and interview was some common misunderstandings about the test.

Mischel said that it is less about self-control than about achievement and making choices. It’s also, to some extent, about how and when a person (or dog) chooses to exercise self-restraint, not whether she can. Other research shows a phenomenon called willpower fatigue; exercising self-control takes cognitive energy. Using that energy on one task means you have less of it available for other tasks, whether they are cognitive tasks or exercising self-restraint.

Maybe Koala would do less well on the marshmallow test after navigating Deni through a strange airport, hotel, and restaurant than she did in the morning on her home turf.

After reading the interview with Dr. Mischel, I don’t think that the test tells us whether a dog is “good” or smart or even obedient. It tells us that training helps a dog make good decisions, and that making those decisions comes more easily to some individuals or at some times. Dr. Mischel told The Atlantic, “What we do when we get tired is heavily influenced by the self-standards we develop and that in turn is strongly influenced by the models we have.”

In other words, when we’re challenged, we fall back on our training and experience.

Alberta and Koala both had excellent training and socialization. They were also both taught the “leave it” cue. The original children tested were from affluent, educated families. These children, as well as Koala and Alberta, had some respect for and trust in authority figures (the children were tested, as were the dogs, by a familiar adult). These circumstances set up a person or dog to succeed. A random puppy pulled from a shelter pen by a stranger would likely not fare so well on the test.

That’s why it is so important to teach puppies to sit quietly, even if only for a few seconds, before they get to eat or greet someone; it’s why it’s important to ask them to wait at doorways and before jumping out of a car. Yes, we are teaching them manners and protecting their safety. We’re also giving them models and a basis to form “self-standards” that include self-restraint.

They might slip up sometimes. Cali gets so excited about meeting new people that she wriggles and dances. And when we approach the office of her friend the cookie lady, she’s a jumping, pulling, dancing demon.

It’s not just Cali. We all experience willpower fatigue. For instance when the scent of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies … mmmmm!

What’s so funny?

Cali seems to laugh; pictured with Dora and Jana
What’s so funny, Cali?

What do dogs think about human laughter?

People often ask me this question. I think that dogs understand that laughter is a good thing; it means that the person is happy — with them, with life in general. I also think that some dogs actively try to get their humans to laugh.

img_3944-copyJana had a toy called a “gefilte fish. She’s had several, actually. Instead of squeaking when squeezed, the fish says, in a distressed voice, “Oy, vey!” It then makes a bubbling sound. When Jana first got that toy, she squeezed it a lot. Each time, I would laugh. She soon took to standing in front of me and “oy, vey-ing” the fish. She’d watch carefully, and if I seemed about to stop laughing, she’d “oy vey” again. She’d give a little tail wag each time she got a laugh from me.

Cali tries to get me to laugh, too. If I am preoccupied or otherwise not paying enough attention to her, she’ll lie on her back and madly bicycle her back legs so that she propels herself around the room. I laugh, of course, at her silliness. She looks slyly at me, her signature sideways look, and makes sure I am watching her.

Dogs not only understand human laughter, they have a way of laughing too. I’m far from the first person to suggest this. In Man Meets Dog, respected ethologist and Konrad Lorenz describes a smiling, panting, most often seen during play, that he characterized as dog laughter. Bark magazine also ran an article discussing dog laughter.

It’s not only dogs; researchers have found that rats, chimps, and other nonhumans laugh. Why not?

So, you’re not imagining it if you think that your dog is laughing (at you?) or enjoying your laughter. Many dogs have a great sense of humor. Even more dogs have a silly side, like Cali. Sharing a joke is just one more way to deepen and enjoy our relationships with them.

 

I Don’t WANT a Little Sister

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I don’t want a little sister. Or do I? Cali wondered. 

Cali met Koala with great ambivalence. She loved Alberta, Deni’s previous guide. Alberta and Cali joined the family at the same time, though Alberta was older, and a career girl to boot. Cali looked up to her and admired her. And, after a week or so of struggling to understand each other, they worked out a play language of their own.

But then, Alberta retired and moved to Montana (lucky Alberta!).  And Koala waltzed into Cali’s living room, bounced off the walls a few times, then settled down on the Good Bed. You know, the one Cali was always stealing from Jana.

That look on Cali’s face stunned. Disbelieving. Outraged. It was priceless. Hmmm, Cali, paybacks are … tough to handle sometimes, aren’t they?

Cali and Koala I just call them Koali haven’t spent enough time together to have their own play language yet. And I think Cali is ambivalent, maybe confused about where Koala fits in. She’s younger and newer to the family. Little sister. But she works and travels and seems to get all sorts of special privileges. What’s up with that? She’s also a bit pushy and intense. But she is fun, and we spend a lot of time at the park when she’s around so … Cali just isn’t sure.

Beau’s New Coat

Beau lives in Michigan, which has had some very cold and snowy weather this winter. He’s a boxer, with very short fur and no thick undercoat. So his mom bought him a winter coat.

Beau wasn’t impressed.

Many years ago, I had a small dog, Timo, and lived in a cold and damp climate. My friend made him a beautiful coat—tweed, lined with fleece. He didn’t like it at first, so I let him get used to it gradually. I knew little about dogs at the time, so I didn’t know about conditioning and rewarding and all the means that trainers use to create positive associations. But what happened was that Timo realized that the coat was warm and cozy. He liked it! He ended up wearing it inside sometimes, when the weather (and house) was especially chilly. I’ve seen other dogs with sparse fur coats wearing jackets and sweaters, and some of them also seem to be comfortable in their clothing.

So I suggested that Beau might decide that he liked the coat once he realized that it kept him warm. His initial reaction was to walk very stiffly and refuse to do his business while wearing the coat.

Over several days, he did, indeed, begin to enjoy wearing the coat. He’s willing to go for longer walks, and his gait is less stiff. But he’s still not taking care of business.

His mom writes, “He walks totally differently when he’s wearing it. Instead of sniffing the ground and peeing on everything, he walks down the street with his head up, sniffing the air, and keeps stopping to look at things I can’t see and listen to things I can’t hear. And won’t pee or poop at all.”

She wonders whether he thinks it is a superdog cape and he just doesn’t want to get the coat dirty… or he might believe that it gives him a special power. We both wish we could get inside the dogs’ minds and know what they thought about their clothes—and whether the other dogs are envious or laugh at their clothed buddies. I especially wonder about all the dogs who wear holiday sweaters!

Cali models her raincoatDogs have varying reactions to clothing. Some take to it right away: Cali took to her raincoat pretty quickly. She doesn’t really like the hood, but she’s perfectly happy to wear the coat on walks, and it doesn’t interfere with her her activities, whether sniffing or eliminating. Other dogs freeze in place when dressed, while many don’t even seem to notice the clothing.

Lest anyone think that I am one of those silly people who dresses her dogs in clothing all the time, I’m not. I got raincoats for the girls, plus a spare for Koala’s visits (and Dora’s) because I was tired of having wet dogs lying around all the time. Jana’s coat took hours to dry completely, and both girls were cold and uncomfortable when they were wet after a walk. Now, Koala’s gone home after a no-rain visit, so Cali has three raincoats to choose from.

I do think that people need to be sensible about dressing their dogs. No clothing should interfere with the dog’s ability to move freely, lie down comfortably, or see. A dog with a thick fur coat should not be dressed in clothing that could make him overheat, but a thin-coated dog in a cold climate should have clothing for warmth. A whippet who had the misfortune to spend a winter in the NEADS puppy nursery while I worked there had a large wardrobe of warm jackets and sweaters, which she definitely needed. But, aside from raincoats and the occasional festive bandanna (and Jana’s beloved feather boa), I don’t dress my dogs.