Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: dog and owner etiquette, dog behavior, pictures
The funny thing is that what we’re taught when we’re children on how to greet dogs is typically incorrect. Let’s look at that.
We’re taught:
1. Offer your knuckles for smelling.
2. Stroke the dog’s head and down their body.
Let’s break these down.
1. Offer your knuckles for smelling.
In and of itself, this isn’t a bad idea. The concept behind this is to let the dog get your scent. However, in bending over the dog to reach out and offer our knuckles, we’re doing two things that, in dog body language, is actually pretty aggressive. First, we’re facing them straight on. If a dog is being friendly, they offer cheeks, not eyes. Second, we’re looming. Dogs only loom when they’re challenging each other! A better idea is:
1. Let the dog approach you and smell your ankles, or crouch and offer your open palm. (If the dog might snap at your face, DO NOT crouch, bend, or anything else to bring your face closer!)
2. Stroke the dog’s head and down their back.
Again, not bad in concept. But dogs don’t go over each others heads unless they’re leaping on each other — something only dogs who are friends do, and even then not generally head-on! Most dogs will flinch when you do this, wondering what the heck you’re doing. Those that don’t are usually puppies, have had no bad experiences, or have grown accustomed to it. Many dogs have one or all of these working for them, and so they don’t flinch. But if it’s a dog you don’t know? Better to:
2. Once the dog has sniffed your palm, curl your fingers under their chin and offer to give them a little under-neck rub, moving to the side of the neck and shoulder.
Dogs who are friendly go for sniffing cheeks, necks, and shoulders first; it’s much more natural, then, for us to do the same thing! With our fingertips, if not our noses!
Try it with the next dog you see (after getting permission, of course) and see if it makes a difference. I think you’ll be surprised!
And just for fun, another Lili Chen demo poster!
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: dog and owner etiquette, dog behavior, expecations, links, pictures, what dogs learn from each other
The other day I was sitting at the coffee shop watching the world go by. There were people there, as usual (my clients with dog-aggressive dogs call it “the gauntlet”), and one woman with a small terrier on a leash. She was walking briskly past, talking on the phone. Her dog wasn’t causing any problems.
The crowd surged, and she found herself partially blocked and had to slow to a near stop. In front of her, a gentleman with an Australian shepherd blocked her path (on accident, I’m sure) and instead of continuing on his way, he stopped and allowed his dog to approach. The little dog cowered back against the woman’s legs. She gave the man a wide-eyed, “call your dog back” look (which she couldn’t say, because she was on the phone), which he didn’t see because he was smiling down at his dog. She couldn’t get past him, he wasn’t moving, and the whole situation was bad.
Now as it happened, it all worked out. The woman squeeeeezed past the gentleman, got her dog out, and kept going. But I felt really bad for her. (I probably should have said something, but I was busy reminding my lab-in-training to ignore them no matter what happened.)
I see this, or this sort of thing happen all the time. My clients with dog-aggressive dogs under control (so they know better than to have an outburst, and instead walk calmly past other dogs, but we still don’t let them associate with other dogs because they aren’t trustworthy) say their greatest fear is constantly those owners who say, “But my dog is friendly!” and allow their dogs to come charging up, instead of leaving a respectful amount of space.
There’s a lot more to say about letting your dog greet properly, but for right now I’m more interested in owners. Owners! Give other dogs space! Don’t assume that just because your dog is friendly, the other dogs are friendly, fearless, and confident. They only have to be missing one of those for it to be a miserable experience for them, even if nothing bad happens. We don’t want that. 
Here, have a cartoon by Lili Chen, who clearly knows what I’m talking about!
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: dogs with disabilities, personal life, pictures
Have I mentioned my wheelchair dog, Sam?
Sam is who got me into dog training. I met Sam when he was about 4 years old, and aggressive. Normally there are types of aggression; dogs that are aggressive towards other dogs specifically, or humans specifically, or are very prey-driven. Sam was all of the above. He was a 125 pounds of muscle and fur, and he attacked people.
I ended up taking him on because I was fearless, needed the money, and no one else would. (That is probably my biggest weakness! “No one else will help you? I WILL!”) Dog trainers often don’t work with human aggression because it’s very difficult to turn a dog around (for many reasons), and because it’s such a high liability. I got bit two years ago, for instance, and was stuck with thousands of dollars of hospital costs (thank goodness for health insurance; the bills racked up to over $24,000 eventually, most of which was covered) and almost two months off work, with no sick days or paid leave! When I’m off work, I don’t make money.
Something like this can destroy a dog training business, if you don’t have the cushion to ride through it. I did, along with parents who were willing to fly up and help out, but I can understand why most dog trainers don’t want to take the risk!
That said, I was willing. I re-trained Sam, fell in love with him, and when he started to go crippled four years later I took him home to southern California. (Don’t panic; I do live in the NorCal Bay Area now! I didn’t then, though.)
Sam did really well for the first six months. I found some alternative treatments that helped, including a dog chiropractor, we were able to get his back feet (which he’d been dragging until they were bloody) to stop bleeding through the use of dog boots, and strengthened the muscles in his back, hips, and legs so he could walk better. Then he took a downturn, and I was afraid that I’d have to put him down.
Enter my then-landlord, who welded as a hobby, and my neighbor’s daughter, who had outgrown her child’s bike. She donated her bike, he took it apart and put it back together, and with a lot of ingenuity we soon had a perfectly-balanced dog wheelchair. I taught Sam to walk in it, and like he had done with so many things, he took to it right away with all the trust and confidence I’d come to expect from him. (To the left: Sam, a few days after getting his wheelchair, with all four feet square on the ground –at this point he could use them as long as they weren’t bearing weight — and the tires still pink. We had yet to add the padding across his shoulders and did so soon, but the pressure wasn’t great so it was worth letting him run around even without it!)
(This is Sam, the day before I put him down. You can see from the sway in his back and how low his hips sit in the sling that his spinal control is going; before that, his spine was flat and his hips tucked down. There’s me in 2006, and Lily, whom I’d just adopted. She was my neighbor’s dog, and I had no intentino of keeping her — I was going to re-train her and send her home — but Sam LOVED her, and the neighbors didn’t really want her back after everything she’d destroyed, so she came to live with me full time and has been a big help!)
Sam lived just another six months before the paralysis started creeping up his spine, affecting his bladder and bowel control, and then soon his shoulders, too. I brought him home about two days before Christmas, and had him put down almost exactly a year later, on New Year’s Eve.
I’ve kept his wheelchair. I told myself I should post an ad on Craigslist, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was holding it for someone who needed a wheelchair but didn’t have the money to buy one (large wheelchairs are expensive), someone I could meet. Over the years I’ve offered it to people, or had people ask if they could use it, only for things to fall through. I kept it, and waited.
A few weeks ago a friend from SoCal contacted me and said that her friend had a German shepherd who has the same degenerative problem Sam had, and could she put us in contact in case I knew anything that would help? I said, Certainly!
Dawn contacted me right after. I didn’t have any information she didn’t already know — in fact, in the six years since everything happened with Sam, medicine has come farther and she had far more knowledge than I had — but I offered her Sam’s wheelchair. The timing was perfect; I was headed down to visit my family, and could bring it with me.
I met Sheba on a sunny Friday afternoon. She’s a beautiful long haired shepherd with big, rounded ears and a slender nose. She’s smaller than Sam, 80 pounds to his 115 (he’d lost weight by the time we got him in the wheelchair), and she has a hitch in her step where her left hind just doesn’t quite respond well anymore. We put her in Sam’s wheelchair, made some hip slings for her that fit her better than Sam’s would, and started making adjustments.
The chair was built specifically for Sam and was too big for Sheba, but she was a trooper. Very patient as we fussed and adjusted, making it work as well as possible. She has less control in one hind leg than the other, whereas Sam was evenly losing control, which gives her a limp. Her compensation pulls her to the right as she walks, so that overall she remains in a straight line — except when the wheelchair removes her limp, suddenly she veers right! Luckily the chair has bars that a human can grab to help keep it straight, and hopefully Sheba will figure it out. (She might not be able to, but that’s okay. Dawn and I figured it was possible to hook a carbiner on a bar and just attach it to Dawn’s belt, which would counter that right-leaning tendency with a human body!)
It pulls a little on Sheba in ways it didn’t on Sam, because she’s smaller, but I think we figured that out for the most part, too. Dawn will have to keep an eye on things, and Sheba will need to practice, but it should work. Sheba didn’t balk at having a wheelchair on, or at pulling it around or having us tug on her. Dawn agreed that when she’s done with it, she’ll pass it on as well. I gave her Sam’s boots (specially made from real shoe soles so that they don’t wear through right away) as well, and his hip slings. It leaves me with nothing from him anymore, except his old collar with his dog tag (“Yosemite Sam,” which I put down on a lark and always enjoyed), on top of the box with his ashes and a paw print from the vet.
It was hard to give it away, but I knew it would be. It helped to know that it was going to help another dog. I hope it does help; it was big for Sheba, and didn’t fit perfectly, but I hope that it does some good. Sheba is in good hands with Dawn, and I can let go knowing that Sam’s wheelchair is doing what it was meant to do, and Sam’s memory lives on with me.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: cash, dogs that have been rehab'ed, lily, pictures
I keep meaning to somehow put these on my webpage, but that hasn’t happened yet. Alas! Still, here are more adorable pictures!
Here we have Max and Ruby, two rescues, with their stocking from this year! Max and Ruby are very proud to be able to walk down the street, ignoring most dogs they meet. Even better, they’re fantastic at answering the door without barking, and they’ve stopped waking their mom and dad up in the wee hours of the morning. Yay! But MOST importantly… they’re really darn cute!
Here we have Layla, a boxer mix who suffers from biological aggression. Biological aggression can never be “cured,” but sometimes it can be managed. We’re still working on Layla’s food possessiveness, though it’s much better than it was! She’s also much improved in listening to her owners and not attacking dogs in the middle of play — two very important items that we’re glad to have managed!
Ahhhh, it’s a dog’s life! This is Bella, a goldendoodle puppy. One of my favorite things is seeing her and her owner — who is almost as small as Bella herself — walk down the street. What a pair they make!
And finally we have Donzi, Cash, me, Lily and Bella, all but my dogs from different families, but getting along spectacularly. It’s nice to have good dogs!
These will soon go up on my website, but here are photos — along with some background stories!
Meet Cash (king shepherd), Leo (golden retriever), Katie (pit mix), Lily (pit bull), Ginger (chocolate lab), and Felix (terrier mix). This motley assortment comes from three different owners! Cash is my dog, and problem-free (there are up sides to being a dog trainer!). I helped Leo with fear of, well, everything from grates to cars to trucks. Nowadays, he can walk downtown with confidence! His sister, Ginger, had some problems with dog aggression, and though she’s still cautious about new dogs in her home, she knows she has to behave and is perfect outdoors! Katie had dog aggression, and after several months of training was safe enough to take back to the dog park, where she and her “brother,” Felix, play with the other dogs. Lily is my dog, and though formerly had severe anxiety and minor dog aggression, today is a model citizen. Extra cheers for Katie and Felix, who both have been Canine Good Citizen certified!
Here we have Petey and Cash, the two size extremes! At the time that this was taken, Petey was living with me. He had been picked up as a feral puppy and kept by NARF for several months, but didn’t tame down. They had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t adoptable, and would have to be put down. One of my clients, a volunteer at NARF, asked if I could help, and I did. Petey now lives with his brother, Monte, and a lovely new family. While he is still hand-shy and will panic and run if given the chance, he’s learning to ‘come,’ he loves to snuggle with humans, and will even tolerate being picked up and petted. It’s worth the snuggle time!
Jenna
