Sunday, May 10, 2009

Too Much of a Good Thing

Once or twice a day, everyday, a well-meaning, responsible dog owner loads his dogs into the vehicle, drives them out to what is probably the closest thing these dogs will know this side of the rainbow bridge--the perfect location for dogs to get their daily exercise.


For the next hour he follows along the paths as the dogs chase each other, run through the woods and have a real great time!

Satiated, they return to the vehicle, pile in and return home. After their bellies have been filled they'll retire to a comfortable sofa for their much-needed beauty sleep.

What could be wrong with this scenario...?

Of course every dog needs off-leash time. Of course socialization is vital for a well-balanced dog.

But can there be too much of a good thing?

If the off-leash time doesn't balance out with on-leash-learning-respect-for-owner-time, or some form of set guidelines, then yes, you can anticipate some problems.

There has to be respect before the earned reward of off-leash priveleges. (I don't mean respect by behaving while in the vehicle on the way to an off-leash area either!) I mean the challenge- the job of being attentive and submissive.

There are very few dogs who don't love their owners. Loving people comes easy to dogs.

Respect is another matter altogether in the canine world. Just because a dog loves you, it doesn't necessarily follow that it respects you. One has to earn respect.

A dog will give you respect when you will settle for nothing less. When you expect nothing less.

When there is no question about 'who's walking who.' When no means 'no questions-not acceptable.' As with a child who is left to 'run wild' without limits, boundaries or expectations, this can lead to far-reaching effects.

Owning a confident, well-socialized dog is wonderful but too much freedom does not beget self-restraint in the canine world. It can produce a dog with dominance issues.

Dogs are forever attempting to climb that ladder...to be 'top dog.' Not only within a pack but if given the chance, will dominate whoever they can, whether it's subtle in nature (pawing at your knee for affection now or curling a lip when a toy is taken away) or a more obvious behavior. (lunging at an approaching dog while being walked or letting out a quiet growl of disapproval when ordered off the sofa)

So before you allow your charge unlimited exercise and socialization, make sure there's a balance-make sure it's well-deserved!

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Designer Genes


Goberian, Havaton, Doxie-Chon, Eskifon, Wauzer, Rottaf, Miniboz, Cheeks, Japeke.

Nope, not a foreign language...these are some of the new 'designer breeds', the newest trend flooding the market.

A great percentage of these mixed breeds end up in petstores, where with a fancy designer name and an outragous price, you can take one home and conveniently enroll your pup in said store's puppy or obedience classes!
Fifteen years ago, we called them 'mixed breeds .'
I refer to them as 'Canadian Classics.'
I have nothing against mixed breeds, I was exposed to more mixed breeds growing up than purebred dogs. (although our family did own a couple of purebred dogs; a dachshund, a beagle) There were more mixes, I assume because we lived in an urban area and anyone who was serious enough to have purebred dogs probably lived in a more rural setting. All the kennels were out in the country where there was plenty of land.

Our dogs were let out in the morning, to wander around and scratched at the door when they returned. When a neighbour came knocking at the door ( sometimes knocking at more than one door, because sometimes there was more than one sire, since LuLu was out wandering too!) to share the news their little LuLu had just had six puppies and a few of them closely resembled our dog, there were congratulations all around and the pups were given away to good homes.
As a 'mixed breed', the pup might cost $10-20.00.

Now some of the mixed breeds--oops! I mean 'designer breeds' are going for $800.00. One site has their pups listed for $1200.-

Since these 'breeders' don't belong to any kennel club (or they wouldn't be cross-breeding) they are not held to any breeder's code of ethics or regulatory committee. They don't need to do any health testing, which is obvious by the number of Golden-doodles with hip issues.
They do have their own registry though--I don't know who's brain-child that was but they 'recognize' certain hybrids. Recognize them as what?? Dogs??!?

They don't do pedigree work to see which dogs were inflicted with what diseases and what percentage of dogs have genetic issues to be passed on in their off-spring.

Some claim hybrid dogs are healthier, because you are mixing up the gene pool. Yes, indeed they're mixing up the gene pool...but they don't tell you instead of concerning yourself with one breeds disposition and health issues, you are now dealing with two (or who knows how many) distinct breeds who both carry separate health issues within their breed.

I have a problem with people who are crossing Catahoula Leopard Dogs with Boerboels-now that's a whole lotta dog for someone without the knowledge of that mix! Or a Great Dane with a Neopolitan Mastiff.
I shudder to think of the possible ramifications of combining those genetics!

If you are interested in the list of 'designer breeds' or the registry club:


Thursday, May 7, 2009

Jenny Craig Candidate

I have never seen a wolf trudging along behind the pack in attempts to keep up. I've never seen any overweight animals in the wild.

Optimum health is essential to their survival skills-the physical exertion of the hunt and chase, bringing their prey down, it all takes a toned, muscular, well-appointed body and a sharp mind.

A far cry from close to 50% of our domesticated canine companions! Obesity is not only on the rise-it's higher than it's ever been in the history of the domestic dog.

The waddle is not a natural gait for any dog. (not even the Basset Hound)
One should be able to run their hands down the dog's side and feel ribs, not have to dig through body fat to 'find' them!

While it may be very well and good for us to lay around on the sofa munching on a bowl of Doritos (and tossing the odd one to the dog) the ramifications are not so comforting for your companion!

A dog needs exercise, more than just a walk around the block two or three times a day. Or a big fenced-in backyard. They need to run-chase, play. They need to exert themselves physically and be challenged mentally.

When I hear of a dog who is a poor eater, the first question I ask is what kind of exercise the dog is getting. When I hear about a dog who is destructive in the house-the same question comes to mind.

Predators/scavengers are genetically programmed for the hunt, the chase and the bringing down of their prey. A dog owner who can employ all these events into a walk, will never have a dog who is a picky eater.


Nor will they have an over-weight dog...or any of the ailments that go along with or are exascerbated by obesity-diabetes, joint dysfunction, heart disease, orthopedic issues.

There's even a pill out now for treating over-weight dogs--Slentrol.

I say, shame on any vet who prescribes it.

There are too many armchair owners-too many fair-weather walkers. It's far easier to throw the dog a treat (or three) or to put the dog into the backyard than to grab the leash and head outside for an hour's exercise.
Not always convenient to put aside an hour a day to enjoy the outdoors with your dog. To play, to discover. to bond. Find that trigger for your dog-that game it just loves to play until you're worn-out! A frisbee, a ball, jogging, whatever it might be.

A necessity for the responsible dog owner and for the healthy, well-balanced dog!

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The Salad Bar


My dog eats grass.
There are two distinct types of grass she ingests.
One type is when she has something going on in her intestines and she wants to clear out her stomach. The effect of eating this type of grass produces immediate results. The stomach is cleaned out. These blades are darker green and broad.
Then there's the daily salad bar, when the blades still hold the dew. These are the young, new shoots of grass and in the early spring, there
is a daily foraging for this superior speciman.
I've seen multiple dogs gathering at what must be a particularly up-scale salad bar. The owners just hang around until their dogs have had their fill, then with their appetite satisfied, move on.
I've heard it's the trace minerals that attract dogs to eating grass. It could be the actual act of chewing they're going for. Perhaps the grass has a sweet taste to it.
Whatever the reasons, I don't think it's a harmful indulgence!

Monday, May 4, 2009

A Rose By Any Other Name...

As breeder or owner of a female, one gets to choose the names for the puppies born in a litter. It's a name on paper for the kennel club registration forms. The 'official' name. This is not necessarily the name that will stick once the puppy goes off with its pack members to it's new den. Any other chosen name is the pup's 'call' name.

Sometimes the call name will be somewhere in the registered name or will be referenced in the choice. 'Sweet Lily of the Valley' may be shortened to 'Lily.' 'Stars in My Eyes' may become 'Cassy', short for the constellation Cassiopeia.' You get the picture...

At times the new owners will figure out their own name for their new charge, that has no reflection on the official name. I had a pup go to his new home proudly sporting the name, 'Sandalwood Steppin' Out.' His owners decided on 'Carl.' No big deal!

"That which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet."

Ten years ago, I had a big strapping puppy who reminded me of a locomotive coming at me. I decided on the name, 'Sandalwood SteamHeat.' It suited him perfectly.

I sold this puppy to a family out of country-first time I'd shipped a puppy anywhere. It was very difficult leaving him at the airport but I knew he'd be greeted by his new people within three or four hours. They called me later on that day and told me all was well and they were in love and would send photos.

There were photos of him arriving weekly, he'd settled in well.

When I received the official paperwork from the kennel club, I mailed them off right away to 'Heaters' owners.

The photos stopped coming....something was wrong!

About a month later I got an emotionally-charged phone call from Heater's parents. They had received his papers and wanted to change his name. They felt they couldn't use the name 'Steamheat' in public because they were Baptists and they felt the name carried a 'sexual connotation.'

I patiently explained my reason for choosing this name for the stocky little fellow but it was no use. I agreed they should call the pup whatever they chose-but his name would remain as it was on his registration papers.

They were going to write a letter to the kennel club and get his official name changed. They preferred 'Saxon.' They would get a lawyer if necessary!

I mentioned (as delicately as possible) the Saxons held far darker connotations for some. They invaded, raped, pillaged and murdered.

They contacted the kennel club and of course, were informed it's 'breeder's choice' where names are concerned.
That was the last time they contacted me, shared photos or let me know how he was doing. I called them a few times over the years but they never responded.

That was ten years and four months ago.

Last month, on Easter morning, I got an email asking me if I was the breeder who'd sold them 'Saxon'. I could easily have let them know I never had a puppy named Saxon but I took the higher road and joyfully told them yes! Was he still alive? Was he healthy? Happy?

Yes, he's healthy and happy. Yes, he's the best dog they've ever owned. Then I received the photos. I can tell he is much loved.

I'm told they will perhaps consider another pup from me in the spring....I will give serious thought before naming that one!

Sunday, May 3, 2009

The Open Door

This afternoon I was coming home from the store-a short walk up from Queen St. In the past week the trees have gone from promising buds to lush green foliage and I was enjoying the swing into spring on a sunny afternoon.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a streak of movement in a backyard. I stopped, trying to identify that familair slinking motion.

No more than a minute later a large-size, male dog came loping down the driveway, head and tail down. At first glance, his gait and physical appearance reminded me of a coyote. he was quite majestic-looking. He paused, glanced behind him-waiting for something. Ten seconds later, a smaller, stocky female followed. When she caught up with him, they proceeded down the driveway, along the sidewalk to the next driveway. They headed toward that backyard at a steady pace.

Now I was intrigued!

Our neighbourhood is not one where dogs run at large. There's the odd dog lazing on a front porch while the owner is doing some gardening or once in awhile a bark from a fenced backyard but that's as feral as the dogs get around here.

Another minute later and the same pattern occured. The male emerged from the backyard first, waiting to escort the female along the sidewalk to the next driveway, up the driveway and into the backyard. I followed along, trying to get their attention. They were obviously on some kind of mission.

After trailing these two for seven backyards, I called over to two women who were walking their Portugeuse Water dogs on the opposite side of the street. I explained the situation and asked if either could perhaps spare a leash.

One of the women excused herself, letting us know her dog was dominant where other males are concerned. She crossed the street to stay at a safe distance. The other woman took her dog's leash off (well-trained dog!!) and offered it up.

Since my arms were weighed down with grocery bags, I asked her if she'd make an attempt at leashing one of the dogs.

Using treats she brought along for her dog walk, she offered some to the two dogs on their way down the driveway. Throwing them in their general direction, the dogs rushed over and gobbled them up hungrily. Gingerly the female approached close enough, and finally accepted the exchange of freedom for some treats.

It was painfully obvious though, getting the male to do likewise was not going to happen. On top of that, treat lady's bag was empty.

I took a moment to assess the dog's behavior and physical well-being. I noticed the male was thin-not starving but not well-fleshed out. The female was friendly and portly but still seemed to be very hungry. Their tongues were lolling, they needed water. They were both walking stiff-legged, as if they'd put a few miles under those paws.

I called my son and asked him to bring out a bowl of water. (he knows me well enough by now, not to question these strange requests.)

Spying a fenced-in yard on the corner, I told treat lady to lead the captive over to it. These two vagrants were obviously a pair-where one went the other would follow. I put my grocery bags down, took the leash, opened the gate and led the female into the yard. The male hesitated but out of concern for his partner, followed.

With the gate closed behind us, we had them both!

They drank their fill and thanks to the lady with the dominant dog who ran home to get them food, they finished off a full bowl of kibble.

A neighbour called Animal Control and gave them the address. They told us they could come right away and pick up the dogs but if they weren't claimed in three days-they'd be put down.

These dogs are obviously owned by someone, they are wearing collars, no tags though. Perhaps they will find they're microchipped.

Observing their behavior in the yard, it comes to me---she's pregnant!! If I was a betting woman, that's where I'd put my money!

Rick with Animal Control arrived within twenty minutes. He took a look at the dogs and said, 'I know these dogs, they live down the block. I've never really seen them but they match the description. Their owner has been sited for the piles in the backyard.' There's no one home there right now but the door is wide open. Probably a disgruntled neighbour. Lots of barking complaints.' Rick leads the female into the van and the male dutifully follows. I thank him for his quick response and he gives me his card.

Now I'm another disgruntled neighbour...although I'm within 500 ft. from my own door, I pick up my bags of groceries and storm down the street, looking for the house with the 'open door.'

I locate it easily. It's an ill-kept place with boxes and over-flowing garbage bins at the side.

I hear a dog barking in the backyard.

Approaching two gentlemen sitting out on a porch two houses down, I ask them what they can tell me about their neighbour-the one with the open door. They tell me there's a dog in a cage in the backyard, and the young guy who rents the place breeds his huskys quite frequently but they never see him walking the dogs.

I have to ask them if they have any idea why his door is wide open if he's not at home. They tell me they wouldn't be surprised if a neighbour opened it in hopes of getting rid of those dogs.

I will return to this house tomorrow and continue to do so until I find someone at home. I want to speak to this person...badly!!

Friday, May 1, 2009

Big Dogs Little Dogs

We're strolling along Queen Street on our way down to the beach for our afternoon play. More than one person stops us along our route to ask if they can 'pat the dog.' Journey dutifully stands still long enough to accept the praise and admiration and after a quick pat, we're off again.

There's a middle-aged lady with a miniature Schnauzer coming toward us from the opposite direction along the sidewalk. At twenty-five feet away, it starts...the dog is yapping, growling and pulling at the end of it's leash. His owner responds by shortening the leash while letting her poor baby know, 'it's o.k'. (No--It is NOT o.k!!!)

Journey is averting her eyes toward the park across the street, trying to control the situation by letting the Schnauzer know there is no threat from over here.

The lady and her 'poor baby' (now in a frenzied state) have managed to squeeze by us, relieved to have made it past us in one piece.

Once we've crossed the street and entered the park, a man walking a smart-looking Shetland Sheepdog is passing by. Over the barking, the man elucidates. When his dog was a puppy, he was attacked by a big dog-ever since, his dog is 'afraid of the big ones.' I ask him how many stitches the dog received from the attack. He assures me there were none required.

I don't buy it...it just doesn't justify this dog's behavior--lunging at the end of the leash, growling and snapping in my dog's face. Why was this issue not addressed right after the 'alleged attack?'

Not all small breeds exhibit this behavior but unfortunately, the majority do.

I'm so tired of hearing the reasons, I don't care what the owner's story is anymore. Willingly accept the blame for your dog's anti-social/bad behavior and set it right! Whether it stems from apprehension, lack of discipline or a Napoleon Complex, it's as much your responsibility to control your dog as it is my responsibilty to control mine.


Alot of times what people interpret as being an 'attack' is nothing more than a dominant dog doling out discipline-putting the overly zealous, misbehaving puppy or dog in its place. Calming its energies-letting it know what's 'acceptable behavior.'

I've seen my dog pin an annoying dog to the ground, after a warning ('get out of my space, I am not amused') holding it down, using her front legs until the dog lies still--gives in. Always done with an air of calm intent. After which she will release the dog, gather her dignity and stroll away. This is much the same as a parent containing an out-of-control child, who's in a temper tantrum, a paws-on time-out! If the dog approaches her again, it tends to display the required manners and respect.

This is the same way the mother dog teaches her puppies and if they tend to loose the lesson when they go to their new home, another dog will re-educate them.

I know if my dog were to respond in the same manner to these dogs or approach any dog-no matter what its size, barking and lunging at the end of her leash, there's a good chance I'd have a visit from an Animal Control officer and possibly a court order for a 'dangerous dog' designation.


This is a perfect case of 'size discrimination'!!