A Little Something New...

I'm going to try a different tactic tonight. A lot of you out there in the real world tell me you're reading my blog, yadda yadda. Well I want to see some audience participation. So I'm going to tell you a story, and then pose a question. I expect responses. You will be graded.

No, not really. But I would love to get a nice little conversation going with the class, so comment away!!

This morning, I had a lovely discussion with one of my clients about her dog's supposed musical inclinations. She's convinced that he squeaks his different toys because he enjoys the melodious sounds, and that he's secretly composing his own symphony. I'm making her sound crazier than she is- he really does seem to enjoy the various squeak pitches and there's something musical about the way he plays. That got us talking about cognitive abilities of dogs. In my various animal behavior classes, we were reminded to always take stories about seemingly human-like behavior in animals with a grain or two of salt. After all, our theories about the mental processes of animals can really only be surmised from our understanding of their outward behavior, and how it compares to that of humans. It's always possible that the reasoning we are attributing to animals is overly complicated, and a true behaviorist will be able to refute any cognitive theory with some drab simple behavioral explanation.

I was reminded of an incredible video I saw about Donnie the Doberman who appeared to categorize and arrange his toys. Every so often, stories like his come along that make me question how much we really know about what's going on inside our pets' heads! So the question I pose to all of you is this: what is your favorite example of an animal showing incredibly human-like thinking? It can be about your pet or just a story you saw online. If there are videos, post links so we can all see!

Today's DO(N'T): Stranger Danger

DO ask permission from both human and dog if you want to say hello, especially if you've never met the dog before.

The polite way to ask the human is to say "do you mind if I pet your dog?" ALWAYS do it before you even reach out towards the dog, because you never know if the dog is fearful or stranger-aggressive. Today, a gentleman on the street was the perfect example of a dog savvy person. He asked me first, and then asked the dog by putting his hand out, level with my pup's nose, with the back of his hand toward the dog. Once my guy had sniffed and shown his acceptance by moving towards the gentleman, he slowly rubbed under the dog's chin before moving his hand gently over the top of his head. He didn't linger too long (mostly because the light changed) but also because he was considerate and knew we might be busy. There's nothing worse than being in a hurry and having to deal with a person who wants to have an extended conversation with my charge.

DON'T solicit money from dog walkers.

This one is kind of a rant against people who get paid to stand on the streets of New York City and make me feel guilty about not saving all the poor children of the world. So if you read my blog, and you happen to be one of those fundraising people, please take note. Dog walking, though not conventional, is in fact a job. I am being paid to give dogs my full attention while they both relieve themselves and get exercise. Not only is it rude to my clients to stand and listen to the hour-long spiel that these people give about homeless children who have no food and need just pennies a day from me to survive while I'm on the clock, but it's also not fair to the dog, who has to stand quietly and wait for no discernible reason. The other problem is that the people (specifically, I'm referring to the fundraisers for Children International) line both sides of the street, so you can't walk by without being accosted. The fact is, I tend to walk down the same streets multiple times on the way to and from my dogs' apartments. And I get asked every time, by a different person. I only know so many ways to politely say no. And finally, I'm a dog walker. I'm not an investment banker. I have about $35,000-worth of student loans. I am a starving child. In fact, you should be raising money for me.

Heaven is a Big, Red Barn

Two semesters ago, one of my animal behavior classes took a field trip to a farm in Brewster, New York called Green Chimneys. It's an incredible place where kids can go to learn when traditional teaching environments have failed them. Not only are they stocked with incredible staff members and teachers, they also have some extra special residents equipped with fur, hooves, talons and wings. Green Chimneys is a farm where many animals come to live out their days in peace while also helping these troubled kids learn compassion and acceptance. Nestled in the beautiful scenery of New York State, this farm is lush and green in the summer and painted white with snow in the winter. It's quiet, save for the sounds of rescued birds of prey and farm animals.

After only a few hours in this place, I knew I had to come back and spend more time surrounded by the magic. So I applied (through a rigorous screening process) to become a volunteer at the horse barn, where many semi-retired and gentle horses serve as therapeutic mounts for the resident kids. The staff like to have volunteers, who can ride, take a test to be a 'barn buddy' so that the horses can get some regular schooling. Horses are smart animals and they need to be challenged, and therapy horses often just spend their days walking in circles. As a barn buddy, I get to give the horses that extra mental stimulation and keep them from losing their manners, so to speak. My first buddy was Cash, a tall, handsome Chestnut gelding who once served as Mrs. Bloomberg's fox hunting mount.

He was a willing old chap, but couldn't do much more than walk and trot a little. When the equine dentist came to float the horses' teeth (file them so that there are no sharp points) he determined that poor Cash was actually significantly older than they'd thought, and probably well into his 30s. That's quite old for a horse, so they decided then and there to retire him for good. He'll stay at the farm for the rest of his life being pampered and loved, but that left me without a buddy. My new mount, and the fellow I rode today, is Chewie, short for Chewbacca. You can see the resemblance.

Chewie is an old man as well, and he can only walk when I ride him, but we do challenging patterns and work on his ring manners. Truth be told, even though I am a fairly advanced rider, I'm so happy to be sitting on a horse that just walking quietly with Chewie in the big indoor ring is perfectly acceptable.

In recent months, thanks to a light work schedule and a rough economy, I've had to cut back on my visits to Green Chimneys. After all, it takes a Metro North train and a $15 taxi ride (each way) to get to the farm from Queens. I have to wake up at 6:30am to make the 7:47 train, and I get home around 6pm, utterly exhausted. I spend the days shoveling saw dust, mucking stalls, scrubbing manure stains from the stall walls, hauling hay bales, sweeping the aisles and hayloft, moving horses from place to place, and completing various other odd jobs. What many people get paid for, or do in exchange for board, I essentially pay to do. When I'm waking up in the dark, piling on my layers, I often ask myself why on earth I'm volunteering if it's such a hassle. But then I get to the farm, and I'm greeted by the sight of the huge red barn nestled in the rolling hills, and a sense of pure joy rushes over me and I remember why I do this. These horses feed my soul. The least I can do is feed them lunch.

One Dog Night

There's an old Australian story that when the bushmen got cold sleeping out in the open, they would curl up with a dog to generate warmth. Colder nights required two dogs to keep toasty, and the absolute freezing ones were called 'three dog nights'. Last night in New York City would have been considered such a night, with the lows dipping well into the teens. Thankfully we have modern heat and plumbing to take the sting out of the temperature, but it was still bitterly cold.

Now I'm a finicky sleeper to begin with. I get accustomed to one bed and then can't sleep well in anything but that bed. So pet sitting, while a great source of income and a nice mini-vacation from Queens, generally takes its toll on my energy. Every owner has different requirements for their dog when they sleep. Some dogs require a lift up onto the bed, others have their beds on the floor next to the human bed, and still more spend the nights in their cozy crates. My current charge is content in either his crate or on the bed. Since I'm such a light sleeper, I opted for the crate, at least for the first part of the night.

I am used to waking up around 5am to feed my cat (she's high maintenance) so I was up, and figured the pup might want to run out and relieve himself. We bundled up and braved the cold only for as long as it took for the pooch to pee and poop. When we got back, I figured he'd enjoy cuddling up on the bed, so I invited him in the bedroom. I was not aware that whippets are burrowers! He nosed right on down into my knees and made himself quite comfortable under the comforter. Within 3 minutes, I was completely overheated and sweating. How is it possible that this skinny little dog made practically of skin and bones could generate SO much heat? But alas, he'd made himself at home and who was I to disturb his slumber? I made do.

So out in the open bush of Australia, maybe you need three dogs curled around you on a night like the last, but here in Manhattan, with a down comforter and a clanking radiator, one dog is plenty, thank you very much.

All for Nothing

I don't bill myself as a professional dog trainer. I would feel guilty doing so, as most of my training abilities are self-taught (and researched heavily). I will, however, happily offer my services as a 'behavior mentor' to assist my clients in teaching their dogs basic manners.

But I ask something in return.

Extra money would be nice, but like I said, I would feel wrong asking for money for something I'm not technically qualified to give.

No, what I ask for is commitment from my clients. Not just a nod of the head and a grunt of understanding when I explain something. A full on devotion to giving your dog the best possible chance to behave well.

Dogs learn incredibly fast, but they unlearn just as quickly. So for all the effort I put forth teaching a dog not to launch herself towards other dogs on the street to say hello, if my client doesn't try just as hard as I do, it will all be for naught. As I've learned, corrections (quick tugs on the leash) may work in the immediate present to stop a behavior, but they have zero effect on preventing behavior in the future. A dog must consistently be told when she's doing something RIGHT (positive reinforcement) in order for her good behavior to continue in the future. So when my pup sits quietly when she sees another dog, I reward her with praise (maybe a treat) and permission to say hello. Then her little brain will tell her, "Gee, when I sit nicely, I get all sorts of good things!"

On the flip side, no matter how many times my pup sits and waits when I walk her, every time her owner skips that step and allows her to launch wildly towards another dog, all my work unravels. Dogs are not stupid- if there's an easier way to do something, they'll do it.

It's hard not to redirect my frustration with an owner towards their dog, but I can't punish the dog for doing what comes naturally. So if you have a dog that you let 'get away' with naughty behavior, even if it's just every once in a while, remember that your pooch will never learn anything if you're not consistent with your teaching.

The Dogwalker's Motto

"Neither rain, nor sleet, nor gloom of night will keep me from my appointed rounds."

Those postal workers sure are committed.

The dog walkers have a similar motto:

Neither rain, nor sleet, nor gloom of night will keep me from my appointed rounds...
but I sure as heck am going to complain about it as much as possible to anyone who cares to listen.

As you may have guessed, it's snowing this morning. But we'll be out, trudging through the New York brown slush. So if you're a dog owner, and you've got someone who takes your dog out for you, be sure to be extra grateful for them today. Because I really, really hate precipitation. And cold.

Wonder why your dog is terrified? Hint: it's YOU.

I was in the small dog run at Washington Square Park today with one of my pup clients. He's a rambunctious terrier, capable of jumping 4 feet straight up in the air. Needless to say, when someone is holding their dog in their arms, he leaps up with all his might to try and get to said pooch. The dog in question was a long-haired chihuahua, very small and very cute. But my pup was pestering her owner(?)/dog walker(?) so the guy put the chihuahua down. Well, my pup became INCREDIBLY excited and chased the chihuahua around, trying to get a decent butt sniff. And what did the chihuahua do? Well she ran screaming, of course. This only caused my little man to chase more enthusiastically, because a fleeing butt is much more enticing than a stationary one. Here's where the giant mistake was made, and where the lesson must be learned. The owner/walker/noob didn't quietly stride over and calm his terrified charge. He RAN, yelling with fear, and joined my pup in the chase of the frightened chihuahua. When he caught up with her, he scooped her up and clutched her to his chest, "reassuring" her with panic still in his voice. And what did my pup do? Why, he jumped up to try and sniff the chihuahua again!

So what needs to be said about the events that transpired?

Well first of all, it should be common knowledge that picking up a dog in a dog run (or around any group of off-leash dogs) is HIGHLY inadvisable, because most dogs will jump up to see what the fuss is about, and the dog being held will feel EXTRA defensive ("Daddy must be holding me because he's scared, so I will protect him with my little teeth"). If you must pick up a dog to remove him from a tussle, do so quickly, and put him back down ASAP.

Secondly, dogs pick up on our emotions. If we panic, they panic. I'm sure this little chihuahua was scared for SOME reason that may or may not be legitimate. But she's a dog, not a defenseless infant. If she had said the right things to my pup in doggy language (a squeal or a snap of the teeth generally works well, with a little snarl thrown in for good measure), he would have backed off, or at least stopped chasing her long enough for her to be 'rescued'. Instead, her caretaker panicked, thus making her think she was completely justified in being scared. So she continued to run, and my pup continued to chase. In short, we only escalate our dogs' fear by losing our cool. If we want to help our pooches overcome their fears, we have to show them that we are confident, so they can be, too.

And finally, if your dog is scared of other dogs, maybe throwing her in with the sharks isn't the best way to help her deal with her fear. Start slowly, by doing leashed introductions one on one with calm dogs in familiar environments. When she can handle those without issue, let her sniff dogs through the fence of the run, and then finally ease her in. The key? KEEP CALM. If you don't give her a reason to be afraid, she'll take her cues from you and bravely march onward.