smell walks

Who’s In Charge Here?

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Orly, a golden retriever, wears an expectant lookIt seemed like a good idea at the time. And, to be fair, it was, for a while (and with a different dog).

The idea was to teach Cali not to react to fence-fighting, barking, or just plain rude dogs when we passed them on walks. We started with dogs in yards, but eventually were able to walk past reactive dogs on leashes. Cali remained calm and collected. And as soon as we were past, she’d pause and look at me expectantly. Because the reason she refrained from responding to the rude dogs was that she got a treat and a lot of praise.

Cali and I had several routes we’d choose from for our morning and afternoon walks, many of which included yards with rude dogs. I noticed that she started eagerly looking for the dogs as we approached. So far so good.

Then we got Orly. Cali and I taught Orly the drill. I made sure to have plenty of treats when we left for walks, though they were willing to wait until we got home to be paid, if I made it worth their while (better treats and more of them).

Orly takes over

We lost Cali to hemangiosarcoma when Orly was just over a year old. In the two-plus years since, Orly has matured into a smart, silly, thoughtful, and very resourceful dog. And, she’s engineered our walks, slowly, over time, to to the point where I am not sure who’s leading whom on these walks and other adventures (although I always drive).

I often let the dog choose which route we walk, primarily because walks are their time and their opportunity to experience new smells and catch up on neighborhood news.

A while ago, I noticed that Orly consistently chose the routes with the largest number of rude dogs. She’d peer ahead to see whether Milo and his brothers were out in the yard before deciding whether to go left or right at one corner, for example.

Gradually, I noticed that she liked taking detours from our usual routes. And that these detours always took us past yards with dogs in them.

She started to prefer turning into the alley after we said hi to George (a friendly, not at all rude, golden who is something of a neighborhood mascot. Or prince.) rather than continuing down the hill into the park. It only slowly dawned on me that there were not one but two rude-dog opportunities on the alley route that were not on the park route.

Then one day, I noticed her pulling toward the fence each time we passed one particular yard. It’s a typical 6-foot privacy fence, solid boards, maybe 4 inches of ground clearance under which we often see the nose and/or feet of a little terrier. A terrier who generally ignores us… unless Orly’s nose or feet are visible. Then, the dog would bark, Orly would not, and …

The terrier was no slouch, and soon learned to ignore Orly, so Orly upped the ante, bumping the fence or whining a bit. I was a little slow to catch on, assuming she was just excited — the terrier lives next door to the house with the treat hydrant. (Yes, more proof, for anyone who still needs it, that dogs are smarter than their humans.)

But no (duh!) Orly was doing her best to cause the other dog to react so that she could get a treat. Someone must have taught Orly about back-chaining, a technique to teach dogs (and humans) to perform a series of actions to earn a reward.

Golden retriever Orly, standing on grass, play bowsI did finally figure out her game.

Mostly I am impressed with the creativity and thought behind Orly’s conniving.

But when we merely pass a dog on a walk with her human, or a calm, relaxed dog in his yard, and she turns expectantly to demand payment, I find myself annoyed. I feel used. Is she a doggy mafia don demanding her due? Is our entire relationship transactional?

But then we get home and she cuddles up to me with a contented sigh … and no, I don’t want your thoughts on how she’s manipulating me in those moments, too. Just go cuddle your dog.

 

Walk Your Dog!

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Golden retrievers Dotty (white) and Orly (gold) look out a large wood-framed window.
Watching the world go by is nowhere NEAR as much fun as smelling it!

Bored? Feeling stiff? Been staring at a screen — any screen — for too long?

Walk your dog.

A recent Washington Post article points out the many reasons to walk  your dog. Nothing earth-shatteringly new, but it bears repeating.

Walking your dog is good for your dog in so many ways — mostly not about exercise. Or not primarily about exercise.

Quality time

Your dog loves spending quality time with you. Walks are the pinnacle of quality time for dogs (well, for some dogs a game of fetch or tug or a belly rub might claim the top spot). This means no “multitasking,” mostly seen as fiddling with your phone while walking your dog. Focus on the dog — and on meeting the dog’s needs and wants.

I do this by letting the dog(s) choose the direction we walk and by letting them stop and sniff frequently.

Dogs need to sniff & learn

The sniffing is essential. As Kelly Conaboy, the Post writer says hanging out only in their own yard is like “reading the same book over and over again.”

Dogs discover so much about the neighborhood and its other canine (and squirrel, raccoon, and deer…) inhabitants by sniffing. Entire books have been written on the importance of sniffing (to dogs) and their astonishing abilities. Smell walks provide the kind of mental stimulation that we dull humans cannot provide, no matter how many treat toys, training sessions, and games of backyard fetch we offer.

For Dotty and Orly, the sniffing is huge — but so is the opportunity to see new things. They are ardent squirrel-watchers, love our safely distanced encounters with deer, and live for the frequent opportunities to greet friends, neighbors, and random strangers: Whenever we walk to the park, we get to say hi to George, an older golden retriever gentleman who is nearly always in the most beautiful yard in the neighborhood, and who comes running over to say hi (OK, maybe I am the one who gets the most out of these encounters …). A chance encounter with the neighbor who always carries top-grade dog treats is like winning the lottery! A stop at a different neighbor’s always-stocked treat jar (actually a plastic fire hydrant with an elaborate screw-off top) is a close second, more like winning $50 from a scratch-off. Some days, we get all three!

In the months she’s been with us, Dotty has watched a large house get a new roof; seen an old house be demolished, a new foundation dug, and walls begin to go up; and studied countless fire trucks, street sweepers, delivery trucks, motorbikes, and more. She’s met preschoolers at the playground and watched them splash in the turtle fountain and play on the climbing equipment. We see the neighbor kids board the school bus many mornings, often after they give each dog a pat or scritch.

Exercise for both (all) of you

With two young dogs at home, I could take the easy way out and let them play in the yard. They get plenty of exercise wrestling and chasing each other.

When it’s very cold and icy, I (very occasionally) do that. But we go for at least one and usually two (or more!) walks a day. I need the exercise and the break. They need the exercise and the break.

Most dogs will not get enough — or any — exercise alone in a yard. The exception is a young dog like Dotty, who has far too much energy for her own good: She often runs laps in the yard just to burn off steam. This makes me sad (and a little relieved …) since it makes clear how far I am from meeting her needs. Unless she’s training to run in the next Missoula marathon…?

Shockingly (?) a third of the respondents to a 2011 study admitted to not taking their dogs for regular walks. (How many more lied?) Don’t be one of them! Dress for the weather, leash up … and head off to wherever your dog takes you!

Favorite Stops on Our Smell Walks

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Golden Cali and Lab Koala agree to sniff deeply at a grassy spot
Pooling the “sniff” budget pays off

“Smell walks” with Cali and Koala are undergoing an update. It’s going better than I expected, actually.

Smell walks follow a suggestion from Alexandra Horowitz’s book Being a Dog. Basically, they are walks where the human actually lets the dog stop to sniff things. Since in the dog’s world, that is the one and only purpose of a walk, they tend to be mystified and frustrated by the large number of humans who seem to think walks are about walking.

Koala takes the concept beyond the extreme, though, sniffing Every. Single. Tree. And rock, blade of grass, and other, ickier stuff. After realizing that my usual 20-minute morning walk with Cali takes well over 45 minutes when Koala joins us, I knew that changes were needed.

I decided that each dog could choose 3 spots for long, deep sniffing sessions. The rest of the time, we’d walk. There’s one other rule: The deep sniffs do not include other dogs’ droppings.

I explained these rules to them carefully, and off we went. I counted each stop and told them how many they each had remaining in the bank. Even so, on the first modified walk, they seemed surprised and, yes, annoyed when I hustled them along after their 6 deep sniffs.

But they caught on pretty quickly. Soon, they started choosing their spots together, rather than taking turns. I could see one turn to the other, the other give a look — and both dive in. I think this approach provides them both with a greater return from their sniff budget.

They have started to return to the same spots, walk after walk. I’m guessing that those are spots favored by our neighborhood deer friends as well as the numerous other dogs who stroll the sidewalks.

Koala is quickly mastering the “walk-by sniff” — she samples an area with a quick sniff-survey of the air as we approach. Before we’re even there, she’s rejected it as a stop, quickly collecting all the information she needs without even slowing down.

Koala is efficient in another way: She often combines a deep-sniff session with other business needs. I appreciate that she frequently does that near one of the two trash cans on our usual route.

We’ve almost settled into a new routine. I can predict 3 or 4 of their stops already. Maybe they are weighing the others and will make their choices soon. Or perhaps they will always reserve 2 spots for impulse stops. Even dogs need some variety in their routines, after all.

Smell Walks

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Jana sniffs at a fascinating odor

I’m reading Alexandra Horowitz’s new book, Being a Dog. I’ve just started it, so the review is a ways off. But it’s good. It focuses on smell. How it feels to live your life, as dogs do, in a world dominated by smell. I’ve read a lot of her work — she’s the researcher who debunked the “guilty dog” look, for example — as well as just about anything else about dogs that I can get my hands on.

I know, from listening to the “Fresh Air” podcast where Terry Gross interviewed Horowitz (it’s called “From Fire Hydrants to Rescue Work, Dogs Perceive the World Through Smell”) that dogs don’t necessarily categorize smells as “good” and “bad.” They just are. This seems evident when we think about the things that dogs spend the most time sniffing … but I digress.

Horowitz describes something that she calls “smell walks.” And, while I have never seen or heard such a specific description of a “smell walk,” I have actually engaged in something similar with my dogs for years. The idea is that the walk is the dog’s time to catch up on the important news of the world. Dogs do this by sniffing.

In Jana’s case, this requires sniffing every blade of grass, twig, stone, or millimeter of sidewalk. These are very slow walks. In fact, they are not walks so much as “stand here awhile, move a foot or so, and stand there awhile, then repeat”s. But that is kind of a mouthful, so we’ve stuck to the wishful shorthand of “walks.” My version has been to let the girls (Jana) sniff on the way to the park and at the park, then actually walk on the way home. I’ve had mixed success with this approach. Jana has a very strong and effective set of brakes.

But now I feel guilty even about that (the “walking on the way home” part). I’m not far enough into the book to know whether all walks have to be smell walks or just one a day, or what. I also don’t know whether there is ever justification for breaking the rules. Because, you see, what I do know is that pulling the dog away from what she is sniffing is not allowed on smell walks.

Another missing piece of information (because Terry Gross didn’t ask) is this: When the dog progresses from smelling to tasting, has the dog broken the rules? And if so, is pulling her away and reprimanding her permitted? If not, how do we keep her from eating really sickening things (in both the “I find it gross” and “it will make her sick” senses of the word)?

Horowitz does not have a golden retriever or a Lab, so she might not have this problem. Still, I would love to hear her answer. I am hoping to find it in the book.

In any case, the idea is to let the dog sniff to her heart’s content. With this approach, Jana and I might never actually get across the parking lot to the sidewalk ever again. I don’t follow this rule. Horowitz warns of dire consequences: Pulling dogs away from smell-rich environments might make them lose their predisposition to smell. This is why, she theorizes in the interview, dogs started attending to pointing and other gestures. I have lots of thoughts on that (based on lots of research) but suffice it to say that Jana, the heavy-duty sniffer, does really well with gestures and pointing. And Jana has survived 13 years of being pulling contests, where her brakes often defeat my efforts to separate her from whatever she is sniffing. Cali, whose nose just might be broken, never got the memo that said dogs, even very young puppies, attend to human gestures, follow pointing, and attribute some significance to the way the human is facing, pointing and gesturing, especially when all three match up. Maybe Cali is secretly a wolf. Or a chimpanzee. They don’t follow gestures either.

The first chapters of Horowitz’s book talk about how delightfully smelly humans are and how dog noses work. It also describes how dogs’ self-awareness is defined: by their scent, of course. I’m really enjoying the book, even if it has triggered enormous guilt about the walks. I’ll have to keep reading to see if and when I am allowed to take the dogs on what Jana calls “forced marches” — no-sniff walks with the goal of exercise or getting somewhere (or both). At least Cali enjoys those!