THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

Wow. What an interesting and informative set of comments in response to my last post, thank you so much for taking the time to write; I have learned a great deal just from reading some of your comments. I wish I had a couple of days to do nothing but research this topic. (But here’s the good news: I WILL have time this summer once the new booklet is out, and I’m going to use that time to learn more and substantially revise the section on behavior and genetics in the Advanced Canine Behavior Seminar this October.)

I could write for hours too on this topic, but I’ll summarize some of my own thoughts here, in hopes that this important discussion continues.

Let me address the issue of inbreeding from two perspectives: 1) the resultant lack of genetic diversity caused by inbreeding and 2) the potential of increasing the frequency of deleterious genes in an inbred population.

As a biologist, I was trained that a lack of genetic diversity is usually problematic in any biological system. Both biotic communities and populations of animals and plants tend to be more stable if they have not suffered from a lack of diversity. For example, the infamous potato famine was caused by a reliance on one variety of potato that did well in Irish soils but turned out to have no resistance to the fungus that caused potato blight. Once the disease took hold, and because so many Irish were reliant on the potato for sustenance, 750,00 people died and two million left for other countries. If there had been a variety of types of potatoes used around the country the disaster would not have occurred.

That is an extreme example, and granted it is from the plant world, but in a general sense (I’ll get back to that caveat later), genetic diversity makes a population more stable, or more able to withstand challenges from disease, extremes of weather or other significant changes in the environment. Animals that reproduce by cloning, and thus whose young are exact replicates of the parents, only thrive in highly stable environments. Indeed, it is argued that sexual reproduction (which is energetically expensive, risky, messy, etc) evolved as a way of creating genetic diversity … each individual has a unique genotype that results in a population in which some individuals are more suited than others to cope with environmental changes; changes that are unpredictable but, in most environments, are inevitable.

The second problem caused by a lack of genetic diversity in a general sense is the increase in frequency of recessive genes and or mutations. These genes are very rarely advantageous and there are numerous examples of diseases, structural deficits and congenital problems associated with small gene pools. For example, medical researches love to find isolated populations of people who have a high frequency of an otherwise rare disease, because that makes it easier to find the genes associated with it, study it and attempt to find a cure.

So, how does this relate to our dogs? Answer: we don’t really know. Seriously, we are in desperately need of good research on this topic. But we do have some guesses: One of your colleagues sent in a link to a study done on the highly inbred wolves who live on Isle Royale in Minnesota. (Thank you Jeff.) Researchers estimate that 58% of the wolves suffer from a serious deformity of the lumbosacral region, with 33% showing a severe malformation of the spine that causes partial or complete paralysis. 100% of the dead wolves that they have found for the last 12 years have displayed bone deformities.

Yes, of course, dogs aren’t wolves, but there are so many examples of breed specific abnormalities that appear to be related to a doubling up of recessives: hyperuricemeia (bladder stones) in Dalmatians, a defective MDR1 gene in collies and aussies, a much higher frequency of PRA and hip dysplasia in some breeds rather than others, etc etc.

What to Do? Should everyone run out and start breeding Border Collies to Border Terriers? (I know, some people do for Flyball dogs!) No, but I think each breed club has simply got to focus more on health than on the “purebred” aspect of their breed. Many of the comments in my previous blog mentioned the Dalmatian club’s and AKC’s lack of acceptance of a line of Dals that were bred to bring in the normal gene: one pointer was introduced into the line, and then an entire line of many generations of dogs that look and act exactly like Dalmatians were bred. But the breed club and AKC refused to accept them as Dalmatians.

What is a Breed, anyway? Here’s the bottom line of what I want to say about this issue: For years, a “breed” was a group of dogs who generally looked somewhat similar and acted in a similar way. They often came from the same locality (thus,  Border Collies from the Border Counties between Scotland and England), but they were bred primarily for function, not for looks. Indeed, you can still register a dog with the ISDS who looks anything vaguely like a Border Collie IF it behaves like one around sheep. I learned from your comments that Hanoverian and Oldenburg horses can be bred together IF they look and behave as the ‘other breed.’ “Alaskan Huskies” are not considered a breed, because any breed who can add to a dog’s strength, stamina and drive is welcome. But that’s what ‘breeds’ used to be: a group of animals who behaved in a particular way. IF it was found that bringing in genes from another location or breed was helpful, it was done without any controversy whatsoever.

My favorite “breed” story is from Ray Coppinger, who tells the story of looking for breeding stock for sheep guarding dogs in the Anatolian mountains. He was looking for an Anatolian shepherd, and found a man with a likely looking brown dog walking behind a group of sheep. Ray asked the man “Is that an Anatolian Shepherd?” The guy looked at him for a minute, and said “Are these the Anatolian Mountains?” In other words…. we’re in Anatolia, the dog is with sheep, so of course it’s an Anatolian Shepherd you idiot! Ray also tells another story of looking for a Great Pyrenees and finding a breeder who took him to the barn to look at a new litter. The litter contained several all white pups, some black and white and some all black. The owner picked up the white ones and said “These are the only Great Pyrenees, the others are another breed.”

So should breeders randomly throw up their stud books? No, I would not advocate that for a minute, but IF there is a real or potential problem related to health or behavior, then absolutely breed clubs should be looking at ways to solve the problem by looking at the genotypes of their breed. Some clubs, very much to their credit, have done this: Basenji’s in this country were derived from a tiny number of dogs until the club went out of its way to import dogs from Africa, for example.

Ah, so much more to talk about. I’m going to save some other aspects of this issue (Are mixed breed dogs really healthier than purebreds? Can you breed for function by looking at structure and movement?) for later, but hopefully this will continue the conversation. I’d love to hear more examples of what breed clubs are doing to promote the long term health of their breed. Some good ones were already mentioned in the previous post’s comments, but I’ll bet there are more.

One last point before I move on: I know that this topic brings up many controversial and loaded issues, and I want to express my gratitude for the courtesy and intellectual curiosity that so many of the comments exemplified. It’s my belief that we desperately need more open-minded discussions about many issues in the dog world (and the world in general, but I won’t go there), and I am grateful for all of you who commented with such grace and civility.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: It’s sunny and gorgeous right now, after a chilly morning with frost on the grass and daffodils. You gotta give the daffs credit: they have lived and thrived through multiple freezes, a serious hail storm, sleet, and hot sun (just one day). But they look great, probably because the cool and wet weather has preserved them, and because somehow they miraculously survived the hail (I’m still not sure how that happened, except that it didn’t last too long here, but had me flying outside in the middle of the night to move the car.)

True confessions: I still need to grade 12 papers today, have 97 emails in my inbox and need to work on the exam for next week BUT, it’s GORGEOUS outside and I’ll be inside all weekend and there’s a flower bed begging me to weed and mulch it. I might just have to play hookey for an hour before I get back to work. Have to admit though, I’m yearning to work Willie on sheep in this perfect cool weather. Oh well, August will come soon enough, hey?

Here’s a photograph that I took a few days ago that feels like a perfect metaphor for life right now: Beautiful flowers surrounded by prickly raspberry thorns. The thorns can rip you to shreds–if you’ve ever tried to cut them out or pick berries in a wild patch you know what I mean– but they also produce one of my favorite foods later on in the year: black raspberries. Flowers for the heart, berries for the body, and thorns to remind us that life is always full of challenges.

One of the things I’m doing right now is grading papers from my UW students on the “Biology and Philosophy” of one of five topics. They could choose to write their papers on one of the following:  Eating Farmed vs. Wild-caught Salmon, Should Apes Have Rights?, Game Farms, Dolphins in Entertainment, and relevant to the blog, Breeding Regulations in Domestic Dogs. They were charged with first writing a paper objectively describing both “sides” of the issue and then writing a paper that relates one of the philosophies we’ve studied to the issue and their own beliefs. Grading their papers is daunting (there are 150 of them; thankfully I have a wonderful Teaching Assistant who shares the job) but also fascinating. Each year I learn a tremendous amount that is often relevant to both my personal life (I rarely eat shrimp or scallops any more because their harvest causes so much environmental damage, although boy do I miss them!) and my professional life, as illustrated the article mentioned below, which was included in a student’s paper (thanks!).

Researchers Federico Calboli et al in the UK examined the breeding records of eight generations of 10 common breeds, including Boxers, Chows, English Bulldogs, Rough coated Collies, Goldens, Greyhound, GSDs, Labs, Springers and what they call Akita Inu (is that our Shiba Inu?). I won’t go into the mathematics of their study, in part because it would take pages and pages and in part because I don’t even pretend to understand it (I’m putting my faith in the reviewers for Genetics, which is a prestigious enough journal for us to assume at least someone else checked the math). But the bottom line is simple, and not surprising: All the breeds were extremely inbred except, interestingly enough, the Greyhounds. The extent of the inbreeding can be summarized thusly: 90% of the genetic variation was lost over a period of 6 generations. (The paper is in Genetics 179, May 2008, pp 593-601.)

Heaven help me, because I know I’ll take flack for this, but as a biologist and a dog lover, I just have to comment that there is something terribly wrong with the way we are defining “pure bred” dogs now. Insisting on 100% “purity” of blood lines is relatively new: It was common in the past, less than 100 years ago, to mix and match lineages and breeds to combine desired traits and keep the lines healthy. The idea of bringing in new genetics, if necessary, was considered to be a good thing, not something that would destroy the breed.

I’ll have more to say about this in the next post, but I’m interested in your comments first. I know how much many people love their breeds and are dedicated to “preserving and improving” them. But isn’t there an elephant in the room here? I’m hardly the first to bring up this issue, but I’d like to know first what you think about the issue of decreasing genetic variability and inbreeding in purebred dogs? I’m listening . . .

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Willie and I had a scary couple of days; he began vomiting on Friday night and couldn’t keep any food down. I was out of town with my sister-in-law, but he has a great sitter who is vet student who took good care of him til I returned. Sunday didn’t go well, he vomited 6-7 times, so he was in the vet clinic first thing Monday morning. (FYI, if he had seemed to be in any distress otherwise I would have taken him in sooner, and his vet actually came out to check on him and bring me medications on Easter Sunday. That’s right, a vet who did a house call on Sunday on Easter. Seriously. His name is John Dally at Spring Green Animal Hospital and surely he deserves kudos, yes? And besides, he looks exactly like I imagine James Herriot to have looked when he was younger). Things are much better now, Willie is on 3 meds, very limited food, and seems to feel better. Our working hypothesis is mild stomach ulcers, possibly from the NSAIDs he’s been taking (no more needless to say). He got acupuncture last night, is super hungry but is definitely not 100% yet.  I’ll keep you posted.

Here’s the perfect April in Wisconsin image: Daffodils and snow. We had quite a storm last week. I’m happy to say the daffs all recovered and are happily bobbing in the rain right now. It’s been a cool and rainy month so far, which many people hate but I like that it keeps the spring bulbs blooming longer. Seems like the yard has been full of pots of gold for over 2 weeks now, such a joy.

And here’s the silly cake I made for my BFF for her 65th birthday. Can you tell we both love flowers?

Happy dog, happy baby, happy Easter and spring weekend, everyone:

Karen London and I are working on our edits to the new booklet on adopting adolescent and older dogs, and something hit me as I was writing that I thought was worth talking about. After considering my own experiences bringing “non-puppies” into my home, talking with folks in rescues and shelters, and working with clients for so many years, it strikes me that one of the biggest problems people have when they adopt an “older” dog (not old, but not puppy either) relate to unrealistic expectations.

I don’t mean that in the usual sense, say, for example, expecting a dog to behave perfectly on day one, but more in the sense that we have certain expectations of adults that we don’t have with puppies. Take house training, for example. Everyone expects puppies to have “accidents” in the house for a few weeks or so, but people are often shocked and angered when an adult dog urinates on the rug just hours after arriving. But of course, most dogs aren’t “house trained” in the sense that we define it (always go outside, never inside) but are trained not to go in a particular place. That doesn’t mean that they can generalize what “house” means, given that they don’t have access to our brains and can’t download the way we see the world.

In my experience people don’t realize how important basic house training is for the first few days when an adopted dogs enters the home. This is especially important for dogs who haven’t had much experience in a variety of houses. If they were taught to potty in one specific backyard and not in a specific living room, why would they generalize that to another location? The fact is, some do and some don’t, so it’s job one to pay attention when you first bring a new home dog. This doesn’t seem like rocket science, but I think it’s not intuitive, and I suspect that our reactions to an adult dog urinating in our houses are more like those we’d have if an adult human peed on our living room carpet. (Yuck, what an image, sorry!).

Staying close by and coming when called seem to present a similar disconnect between “puppy versus non-puppy.” Young puppies have an inherent follow response, and we don’t need to do much when we bring them home to keep them close by. Of course, we’re wise to start recall training right away, but it’s seductive to forget that and imagine your pup will follow you everywhere forever. All this relates to one of the biggest problems that I see owners, shelters and rescue group deal with: dogs who are either let outside off leash intentionally, or escape out the front door or through a hole in the fence and can’t be called back. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that this causes no end of grief for the dogs, the fosters and the new families. Yet, it seems ever so common to expect an adopted dog to behave like a puppy and follow you everywhere, leashes be damned.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this: What did you find surprising, or important to remember if and when you brought home an adopted dog who was well beyond puppy hood? I’m sure your stories will be helpful to us all.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Brrrr. Snow, sleet, hail, thunder and a ridiculous amount of stuff in between fell yesterday, but at least we escaped the damaging storms that plagued so much of the country. I hope you and yours are all safe and sound. Anyone out there need some sympathy?

This weekend some dear friends came to help with the sheep chores, and then we all got reinforced by being able to let the lambs out of the barn and go up the hill for the first time in their little lives. The day was warm and sunny (very rare this spring!), and we soaked up the breeze, the sun and the green grass like sponges. As you can see, the lambs seemed to like it too.

xx

Have you seen it, the viral video of a “guilty” dog? A yellow lab sits hunched in a corner while his owner asks if he’s the one who got into the bag of kitty treats. The dog turns his head away, squints his eyes (not in a happy way I would argue) and after considerable prompting (or pressure), looks “guilty.” Except, the “guilty” look is actually a perfect example of what is called a “submissive grin,” used to appease another higher status individual. Most biologists call this an example of “active submission,” in which an animal is attempting to increase the distance between it and another member of its social unit. (Versus “passive submission” which promotes a decrease in distance; for example, lying down and exposing the anal/genital regions.)

I know that “submission” is not a popular term at the moment, but whether you call it appeasement or submission, surely it’s clear that the dog’s expression has nothing to do with guilt. (I first capitalized “nothing” but then changed it because it looked like I was yelling.  But okay, honestly, I was.)

Is it just me? Am I just being finicky, but I can’t even watch this video to the end. Have you seen it? I’m so curious to hear what you think. Here it is:

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Spring!  I have to cherish it in small, tiny moments, but they are exquisite ones. I can’t find the words to express what it feels like to see color after a long winter of black, brown and white. And Spot had her lamb, a beautiful, white ewe lamb. (But just a single? Jeez, Spot, you are fat as a tick! I was sure there were at least 2 in there, and now I see you’re just fat!)

Here’s some oh-so-welcome color:

I know this has nothing to do with dog training or behavior, but may I mention how relieved I am that Barbie FINALLY had her lambs?

I just happened into the barn a few minutes after she had her first, and was there while she had little ram lamb number two:

Here they are about 20 minutes after the first one was born, perhaps 5-7 after the second.

Here’s the first attempt to stand from lamb #2, about 10-15 minutes after its birth:

MEANWHILE, also on the farm: Poor Willie is bored silly, I’m working all the time or traveling to visit my ailing relative, and he can’t work sheep, play with toys except on a limited basis or run around outside. Poor Willie; I do keep reminding myself that this too shall pass. I wish I could tell him that. (But thanks for the comments from those of you whose dogs have had surgery and made great recoveries. I wish we could do it now and get it over with, but as we all know, life (and death) has its own agenda.) But it is sunny and springy outside; the older lambs are frolicking, the daffodils are dancing and the earth is coming alive. Sweet. Cherish the moment.

I’m cherishing the feel of the spring breeze on my face, the smell of Willie’s fur when we cuddle at night and watching Rosebud’s triplets leap in their pen. Maybe for only a few seconds, but isn’t that all we really have? One second after another?

What are you cherishing right now?

This video tape of me and Willie doing his exercises reminds me how important it is to “honor your dog.” (I think that is originally Kathy Sdao’s phrase, and I just love it.) The video shows us doing two exercises, “Flex” and “Paw,” both designed to strengthen his shoulders before the surgery. We first began doing one set of 10 reps each with very short durations, about 2 seconds max, and have worked our way up to 10 seconds duration for the first set and 5-6 seconds for the second set. But the therapist warned me to watch for signs that we were pushing it too far, and those showed up recently, which we caught on video.  Watch the video first, then I’ll tell you more about it. It’s a little under three minutes. We cut out about 30 seconds just to keep it short, I’ll describe more about what is happening after you watch:

Now, watch it again, paying attention to how he holds his leg back at second 34.  I wondered if that was random, but also whether it was a sign he was becoming uncomfortable. So when, at second 48, he refused to “Flex,” I felt sure he was trying to tell me something. (I should mention that he has seemingly enjoyed these exercises and offered lovely “flexes” over and over again a few days earlier.) So I asked for it again, but decreased the duration considerably, giving him little breaks in between as well. At second 125 he raised his paw (our next exercise) when I asked for a Flex, which I’ve learned to interpret as “Can we move on?” I suspect it is not because he’s bored (a possibility though), but because his shoulder is hurting. So we did one more very short one, and then quit. You’ll notice an edit at second 146; all we cut out was one more 2 second flex (as well as some later “paw raises,” just to keep the video from being too long.)

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Eight lambs and counting! All the ewes are late, but Dorothy had twin girls Monday night, and today Lady Godiva and Brittany had their lambs (Lady G twin girls and Brittany one little boy–still wondering if there is one more in there, come on, Brittany, have twins!).  That makes 7 ewe lambs and one little boy. Gonna have some slumber parties for the girls… are there sheepy chick flicks?!

Willie and I just visited his physical therapist (Courtney Arnoldy at UW Madison Vet School, fantastic woman) and we have an entirely new set of exercises to do. Gotta go get some equipment before we can get started, but I’ll do that tomorrow…. And just when we were mastering the other ones (but they will come in handy, it’ll be great to be able to ask him to pick up each paw… boy is training making his exercises easier! Especially useful are Wait, Get Back, Paw, Touch. (He knew “Take a Bow” but Flex is new, is different than a bow.). Now if someone would just make me do my exercises . . .

My posts will be a bit shorter and perhaps less frequent in the next few weeks, but I couldn’t resist passing on a blog post from Bark Magazine that gave me the best laugh of the week. It’s about a reported (so yes, this is a story about a story about a story) who read that a dog sold in China for 1.5 millions dollars and reminded us that the dog, a Tibetan Mastiff, is believed to be the reincarnation of a Tibetan monk. I suspect I laughed especially loudly because, like many, I can get truly silly when I’m tired and 2) I go on and off the meditation wagon like a five-week old puppy in and out of a whelping pen (I’m currently back on it, but someone better tie me up to keep me there).

The Bark blog was written by my colleague (and co-author); here it is: Karen London’s Bark Blog.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm. Yesterday it snowed, today it is sunny and warm and tomorrow it is supposed to snow again. Ah, April in Wisconsin. Jim is up north, but this weekend I am staying  home to work and hopefully, deliver lambs. I have 3 ewes due to lamb (Spot was due Wednesday), but none of them have read that particular chapter. This morning I spent some time cleaning out the barn (still needs lots more work, so maybe it’s good the ewes are waiting for me) and went up the hill to pen up the sheep before the truck comes to fertilize the pasture (which needs to be done before a good rain if at all possible). So there we were: me, Wilie and the flock, all staring at each other in the bright sun and blue sky, and I lost my head, and yes, yes, I did it, I said “Go Away” and let Willie run around counter clockwise and gather them to me. His shoulder is doing well, we’ve done his exercises religiously, the surgery is coming up in May, and I decided that one brief moment of joy wasn’t going to hurt anything. I wish I could have taped it: watching him run in a huge circle, back lit by the sun and the sky, to gather up my girls made my heart sing, and judging by his demeanor when he came back, his too. Ooooh, I miss herding with him so much, I can barely describe it. We’ll be good again until the surgery, as good as we can be anyway, but I’m glad we had our little moment. Sometimes you just have to take care of your soul as well as your body.  Meanwhile, patience, Trisha, patience.

Here are 2 of the triplets: (And no, they don’t have blue eyes, that’s just the tapetum reflecting the flash. You can’t ‘fix’ it with the ‘red-eye’ function and I didn’t have time to mess with it, even thought it was sort of cute.)

Here’s Barbie, climbing the fence in hopes it will get her the grain I’m giving the mom with triplets. We call Barbie Explodo Ewe every year around this time. For good reason.