THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

My eagle-eyed conference coordinator, Katie, asked me to remind you all the early bird pricing (about 10% off) for the Madison Seminar on October 29 and 30th is over at midnight on Friday, September 30th.  The host hotel also has a special conference rate that expires on Friday too, and space for the seminar is limited (and registrations are pouring in, wheee!) so if you are thinking about coming, now’s the time to act. As always, if you are a blog reader please, please come up and say hi. I always love to meet readers in person. I also should mention that you can get up to 20% for groups of 10 and over, 10% off for 5 to 9.

I’m having a ball getting back to working on the seminar now that we are back from Scotland. Have I mentioned how much great research has been done on dog behavior lately (finally)? Did you know, for example, that ambidextrous dogs have higher levels of noise phobias than left-pawed dogs? (About the same percentage of dogs are left-pawed as people are right-handed. Cool, hey?) I’m working on genetics and behavior right now, and trying to figure out how not to spend the entire day on it. Don’t worry, I won’t. Too much to talk about regarding developmental effects on behavior, learning, communication, social systems, etc. I’ll be talking about all that on Saturday and soaking up Ken Ramirez’s practical advice, inspiration and amazing videos on Sunday. It’s coming soon. Oh boy and Eeeeeps! Get to work Trisha.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Willie and I went on a 35 minute walk yesterday in one of our favorite places, a county park of prairie and woods that was flaming with bright red sumac and soft purple asters. Although it was still on leash, it was our longest walk since February, and it was one of the first times I felt like maybe life will someday get back to normal. What a treat. We’ve started on the Hobbles for brief periods off-leash in the house, by next week he can be off leash in the Hobbles outside for a few minutes at a time. Ooooooooh, can barely wait.

Here’s Mr. Will this morning, leash attached (but hidden, not on purpose) and on a Sit/Stay for the camera.

You know I love Willie; sometimes I think almost too much. But I’ve never loved him more than I have this morning, after finishing the book, Part Wild, by Ceiridwen Terrill. Willie is a dog. Inyo, the focus of Part Wild, is a wolf-dog who Ceiridwen adopted as a puppy. The book is a brutally honest testament to the differences between dogs and wolves. I can’t think of anything I’ve read lately that made me more grateful to have dogs, Canis lupus familiaris, as domesticated animals, in my life.

Fair warning: It’s not always a happy story, as wolf-dog stories often aren’t.  Ceiridwen gets herself a wolf-dog pup for all the wrong reasons–primarily to protect herself from an abusive ex-boyfriend who is stalking her. She makes a lot of bad decisions, both related to boyfriends and Inyo, and I will honor her honesty by saying that at times I wanted to reach into the pages of the book, pull the author out and yell “WHAT were you thinking?” When her wolf-dog kills a neighbor’s beloved cat I almost had to put the book down.

But I didn’t, I finished it at 6 AM this morning, (still on UK time) because the book is so good and so honest and so very, very important.  She is flat-out honest about her own problems with OCD, hair pulling (her own), and enabling bad boyfriend behavior. And she is equally honest about her inability to provide a good life for an animal always torn between being wild and living a domesticated life. What comes charging out of the book, page after page, is the profound difference between a wolf and a dog. Typical of a wolf, Inyo is relentlessly active, never ceasing to paw, dig or chew anything and everything around her. She escaped from everything that Ceiridwen built (in part because Inyo was a wolf, and that’s what wolves do, and in part I’m guessing because Ceiridwen made the classic beginner mistake of underestimating what it takes to confine a wild animal, and thus continually taught Inyo that she could get out if she just worked at it hard enough.)

I haven’t worked with wolves much, but I will never forget the wolf-dogs I’ve worked with. One was a five-month old “high percentage” wolf owned by a young couple who lived in a second-story apartment. (The “high percentage” label is often a claim used to increase the selling price of a wolf-dog, but all I can say is that this one looked as wolfie as the wolves I met at Wolf Park). They were having some “obedience” problems. The animal, a gorgeous, yellow-eyed, long-legged sprite, literally bounced off the walls of the tiny apartment when I came out to do a house call. She ran up the walls and somersaulted off, she lept up and over all the furniture with abandon, she chewed my shoes, my hands, my pen, my hair–all with a sparkle in her eyes and a huge grin on her face. It broke my heart, because the couple had no money, no land, no space, no knowledge of what this gorgeous animal needed and nowhere to place this poor animal who could never be happy without a  hundred square miles to roam. I tried to help them find a wolf rescue facility for her; but I don’t know what eventually happened. Most wolf rescue groups are relentlessly overwhelmed with wolf-dogs who have continually escaped, killed livestock or the neighbor’s dog, and/or bitten a person.

Speaking of biting, that’s the other experience I had working with a wolf-dog.  A gentleman (I use the word loosely) came in for an appointment because his wolf-dog had begun biting his wife and was escaping the “fool-proof” pen he had constructed. He seemed far more concerned about the escapes than his wife. I talked at length about the challenges of keeping a wild animal happy in a domestic setting, and my concerns that at five months of age (note the similarity of ages of the client’s animals?) the wolf-dog was already attacking his wife. It was obvious that my words were having no impact, so I finally gave up and attempted to show him how to use counter classical conditioning to treat resource guarding (which was the context of the bites.)

Like many wolf-dogs, “Sierra” was all over me with licks and kisses. After a greeting ceremony straight out of a National Geographic special, I gave Sierra a chew bone, one of moderate attractiveness. Once Sierra took possession of it, I threw a chunk of real chicken 4 feet away, and picked up the chew bone myself. After Sierra inhaled the chicken he came back for the chew bone that I was holding in my right hand. As he approached I moved the bone toward him in an offering. “See? If you give something up you get something better, and still get the first thing back anyway!” I’ve done this with thousands of dogs, and with few exceptions they catch on right away. “Trade Chew Toy for chicken? Yes! Good deal! Let’s do it again.”

But Sierra wasn’t a dog. Instead of taking back the chew toy he stopped and looked straight up into my eyes with a cold, hard stare. I remember every pixel of his face as he, like lightening, bit down hard on my right hand. It was the second most painful bite I’ve ever had, but it was more the calculated message behind the bite that shook me most. “Don’t you EVER touch my stuff again.” That’s how I interpreted the behavior anyway, accurately or not. The man thought it was funny that I’d been bitten, so much so that I found myself wondering if working in a small room with a dangerous wild animal and a sadist was a good career plan.

That pretty sums up the two primary differences I’ve seen, and that Ceiridwen experienced, between wolves and dogs: 1) a wolf’s energy level is off the charts; Inyo and Ceiridwen hiked miles and miles to little effect, and  2) Dogs are, at least compared to wolves, motivated to let humans drive the system. Like most wolf-dogs, Inyo came when called, if she felt like it. She sat or lay down when asked, if she felt like it. No amount of training treats or positive reinforcement made any difference if she had another agenda. What was hers was hers, and she was willing to use her teeth to underscore that arrangement.

Part Wild is coming out in a few weeks, but you can pre-order it now on Amazon. I got an advance review copy because Ceiridwen contacted me for an interview for an article she is writing for Slate. The book is a beautifully written, bravely honest and heart-breaking. I hope it has some effect on discouraging the breeding and purchase of wolf-dog pups, I am sure that’s one of the reasons it was written. She acknowledges, as do I, that there are indeed some exceptions, some wolf-dogs with just the right mix of genes can be happy and safe in a domestic environment.  But they are the exception, not the rule. And as Ceiridwen says, what about their siblings? Where are they? I expect that the book will generate no small amount of criticism–as I said, the author makes no attempt to candy-coat her problems and mistakes. But I for one applaud her for her honesty, and for writing a book that will stay with me for years to come.

Do you have wolf-dogs in your area? It seemed we had a rash of them here in Wisconsin for awhile, but less lately. I have heard that they are still very popular in the American west. True? What about other countries?

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: We’re back on the farm! After a wonderful, amazing and slightly exhausting trip to Scotland and England, we’re home and it’s fall and gorgeous and cool and Willie is full of himself and getting harder to keep quiet. This week we are beginning to let him off leash for a few minutes in the house. Sunday night I put on his hobbles and let him play with a toy since the first time since March. I can’t imagine 2 happier individuals than him and me for that brief period of time. He ripped the toy into shreds in 5 minutes while I stood and grinned.  Last night I gave him another toy, less rippable, and after he played with it for 6 minutes I took it away and put him back on leash. Oh dear, this time it wasn’t all so happy. After I took the toy away he slumped down, head on paws, and looked miserable the rest of the night. Poor guy, wish I could explain. Tonight I think I’ll skip the toy, just let him off leash for a bit.  But soon soon, he can be off leash outdoors! What a day that will be. (This weekend if all goes well.)

Here’s a little fall color from the yard:

The World Sheepdog Trials have come to an end, and what an amazing experience it was. Dogs, sheep, mud, sun, rain, mud, wind, sweet hot tea, a potpourri of languages, a sea of rain coats and rain pants, mud, inspiration, amazement, wellies, mud,  and dogs, dogs, dogs. You can learn more about them, and see all the results at 2011 World Sheepdog Trial.

The 16 dogs and handlers that ran yesterday in the finals were truly some of the best of the best. The sheep here are challenging: so reactive that my friend Peg who ran on the U.S.team and came over early to practice said it took her 3 days to be able to drive them in a straight line (and that’s saying a lot, she was on the World Team for heaven’s sake!). The course was a killer: with the first outrun about 450 -500 yards up a hill to the right, then the dog leaves those 10 sheep and “looks back” to run a half of a mile (yes, really, I”m not exaggerating) to the left to gather another 10.

Here is a dog bringing the first group toward the fetch panels (the sheep have to be brought in a straight line to the handler, through a set of free standing panels). You can just barely see where the second group of sheep are set out: count 4 trees from the left; the sheep are set out beyond the hill you can just see in the background.

Several dogs needed help from their handlers (in the form of extra whistles, each of which loses you some points), but all the dogs found each set of sheep. Then the 20 sheep were driven through two drive panels about 200 yards each away from the handlers. Then the fun began: 5 sheep of each 20 had orange collars on. For the “International Shed” as it is called, the team is to split out the uncollared sheep from the flock. Doing so takes an incredible amount of team work between the dog and the handler. The dog’s job is to keep the orange collared sheep back, the handler’s to split off the uncollared ones. Of course, the sheep haven’t read the program. You may get a collared sheep who is determined to join the others who have left already, or an uncollared one who is the lamb of a collared. You get the picture, it’s terrifically difficult. The handlers have to know sheep as well as their own species, and be able to know what the sheep are about to do before they do themselves. The dogs have to be both split-second obedient and also to make a great many decisions on their own. The pressure on everyone is enormous.

Here’s part of the shed with Serge van der Zweep and Eve (who came in 2nd). You can see how Eve is holding the collard ewe back.  The already split off uncollared ones are off to the right.

Here Serge has manuevered the sheep so that an uncollared one is in the right position to split it off and he is moving toward it to push it off. See how Eve is still focused on holding the collared one back. A perfect example of teamwork.

Success!

If the shed was successful (often it was not, the team of handler and dog could spend 15-20 minutes in the attempt and then run out of time. At the end of the day the sheep got more difficult to work, and several dogs ended up “gripping,”which is an automatic DQ. None of the “bites” were seriously, one was actually no more than a muzzle punch, but rules are rules and regettably both US handlers were DQ’d because of grips. Tommy Wilson had a brilliant run going, and was almost done with his shed before his truly lovely dog Sly ended up in trouble at the last minute. Darn!)

If the sheep were successfully shed, the sheep had to be penned. Four judges added their scores together, and the overwhelming winner was a break your heart run by James McGee and Becca from Ireland. We saw the run in detail on a television special Sunday night (complete with slow mo, close ups, and fantastic camera work) and it was as beautiful a thing as I’ve ever seen. Best of all was the obvious love between James and Becca during an interview afterwards. They pure and simply adored each other, and it was a wonderful thing to see. As in all dog-related endeavors, not all the handlers are as kind to their dogs as I wish they were, but James absolutely glowed with his love for Becca.

After each run, field workers sent their dogs to pick up the sheep. We managed a good spot at a fence (not an easy task, since we were the only ones there without Wellies and had to wade through lakes of mud in our traveling shoes). But it was worth it, we had a good spot to watch and a great advantage point to get some photos of the ‘pick up’ dogs working the sheep off the field.

We’re off now for a train to London. What a switch that will be! I’ll write another blog when I can get back online with some photos of the area. The Lake District of northern England is drop dead gorgeous.

It took us two days and driving through the remnants of Hurricane Katia, (with 80 mpg winds) but we finally made it to the Isle of Arran. Once there, we took another ferry to the tiny Holy Isle where we hiked up the two middle mountains in search of the islands unique animals: the  Eriskay ponies, Saanen goats, and Soay sheep.

I was most interested in the Soay sheep, who are believed to be closely related to the wild-type predecesser of the domestic sheep, the mouflon. I talk about the origins of domestic animals in my UW class, and have lectured about mouflons for years.. and here was my chance to see animals as close as it comes to ancient sheep. And there they were: grazing on the grass right in front of the pier. They were very tame, so we were able to sit and watch them while we rested from our  hike. I noticed that they used their horns with abandon,, making lateral thrusts to “resource guard” the best patch of grass.

Here’s some of the ponies standing in bracken ferns. There are 3 bands on the island and it was great to see them both from a distance grazing on far hills and up close like these three. One band had two young foals, but I don’t have a good photo of them.

And here’s why we were resting after our four to five mile hike. We were already partway down when I took this picture of Jim and the view. A picture of me would’ve shown a muddy butt cuz it was so steep in parts that I slid down on my rear end. A rock climber I’m not, and I don’t mind admitting I was truly scared for part of it. But we made it down and it was worth it — what an amazing view, hey?

Now we’re in Penrith, a few miles from the World Sheepdog Trials. We’ll be there much of Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  Can’t wait! I’ll send reports as I can.

No time to write much; I am sitting in a stairwell right after the seminar.. (what a WONDERFUL group of people to talk with!)– no internet access in the room, castles not being designed for high speed internet. The seminar was a great experience for me, truly a lovely, lovely group of people. Thanks Action 4 Dogs for bringing us over.

I may be off line for several days, but here are a few photos of our experience at the Falconry Center at Dalhousie Castle outside of Edinburgh. The birds are carefully trained to fly to the arms of visitors rather than the staff, so you can go out, hold up your arm (leather covered of course) and watch a hawk (Common Buzzard) and Eagle Owl fly 100 yards from a tree perch to your arm. It is a RUSH beyond belief. I could have done it all day.

Here are just a few photos of me and Jim with the Eagle owl.

Here’s a familiar story to everyone who has had a dog-dog reactive dog: You’re out walking in the neighborhood, your own dog responsibly on leash, when you look up and there is a ___________ (pick one: set of Golden Retrievers, Jack Russel Terrier, Black Lab, trio of Dachshunds) charging toward you and your reactive dog. Many yards behind the oncoming bundle of doom, the owner waves and smiles, shouting “It’s okay!!! They love other dogs!!” Meanwhile, you’re not fine at all. Holy moly, now what? You know your dog is not going to react well, and you know the other owner has no control over his/her own dogs, who are running toward you.

This is when you want to employ what Karen London and I call the “Emergency Sit-Stay” in which you ask your dog to sit and stay behind you while you step forward and throw a handful of treats into the charging dog’s face. I learned this simple method from Trish King (don’t miss a chance to see her in a seminar, she rocks.) Even if your dog isn’t on a stay, the shower of treats in a dog’s face often stops them in their tracks. If you’ve tossed a fistful of treats, the dog(s) will spend several minutes searching them out in the grass while you and your dog slide away. This is described in detail in the booklet Feisty Fido and the Dog-Dog Reactive DVD, but here’s a video to illustrate the effectiveness of the treat tossing.

Katie and I made this video for two reasons: One, we wanted to convince people of its effectiveness. In my experience folks are extremely skeptical that his would ever work, and I have to add, understandably so. Until you’ve done it yourself, it’s hard to imagine it really working. Which leads to the second question: I’ve used this method only about 4 or 5 times (for myself and for clients), and wanted to test it out with a variety of dogs.  Will it really work on some big, highly motivated dogs? Caveat here: This method would never stop a highly motivated, hard charging dog who is laser focused on attacking you or you dog. In that case you need something a lot more powerful. But as you’ll see, it  works beautifully on the 4 dogs in the video, from tiny (Tootsie, a Cav visiting the farm,) to medium (Nasta, a neighbor’s Siberian,) to down right huge (Katie’s Dogo Lily and a friend’s galumpfy who-knows-what.)

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Heck if I know how things are there! We should be in Scotland by now, arriving today in Edinburg to get our paws on the ground before the seminar at Action 4 Dogs. Come up if you’re a blog reader or FB reader, always fun to meet you in person…. I’ll write a few Travelblogs as I can, after the seminar and then from the World Herding Dog Trials in the Lake District of England. Oh wow, how fun will that be!  [To Willie: I miss you already. I know, it's ridiculous, but there it is. Please please be careful with your shoulder Mister, when I get back you can be off leash for a few minutes at time in that funny suit you practiced wearing today!]

Not very subtle, hey?  Apologies, but I was convinced by some well-motivated smooth talkers that some of you really would want to know that all my DVDs are 25% off until next Monday. So there, I did it, the woman who would flunk out of marketing class on the first day. Whew. Okay, now to the really important stuff….

It’s all about getting ready to go on a long trip right now, from seminar prep (just getting all my movies on a thumb drive is not small task!) to training new farm sitters to writing out instructions to, oh yeah, cleaning out the frig. [Ack, is that a new life form covering the yogurt?] If you’re in the same boat, check out the comments to a blog I wrote on preparing for a big trip without your dog. I hope my comments are helpful, but I’d also advise you to check out the reader’s comments, they are invaluable. As usual, you all come through with an impressive body of knowledge and good advice.

I’ve pre-posted a fun video that will be published this Thursday, hope you enjoy it. It should go out right around when Jim and I set down in Scotland. After I get over leaving Willie and Sushi (Ack, I am so bad at this), it’ll be wonderful to get back to my roots. My ancestors are English, Scottish and Welsh, and the first time I went to Scotland I got off the plane and thought: “Everyone looks like me! No wait, I look like everyone else!” Same square face and, oh so regrettably, short, stocky legs. All the better for scaling the hills of the highlands?

Willie had a great PT session today, 20 min on the treadmill and a re-fit of his  hobbles for when we get back. He doesn’t seem to mind them at all, pays them no attention, and now that his surgery is long past, they are easy to get on. Objectively, and, of course, scientifically, I think he looks rather elegant in them myself. I’m just saying.

I thought you might be interested in two books I’ve devoured lately, as different from each other as a Bichon and a Bouvier, but both wonderful in their own ways. Right now I’m immersed in The Divine Life of Animals by Ptolemy Tompkins, subtitled “One Man’s Quest to Discover Whether the Souls of Animals Live On.”  This is not beach reading, it’s a serious yet engaging inquiry about whether animals have souls. (Note that he asks that in the book, but answers in a way in the subtitle.) I’m only half way through, but I’m fascinated by it, and love that someone has taken the time to seriously ask the question: “Do Animals Have Souls?”  To answer that question, Tompkins first takes us through a comparative survey of how different cultures and religions have perceived who animals really are, and who humans are in relation to them.

What is especially interesting to animal lovers, I think, is the almost universal perception of early cultures that animals and humans were nowhere near as different or divided as is often believed today. The author writes: “Why are animals so important to primitive cultures? One big reason is that for primitives (just as for all the sages of the East), animals and people aren’t really all that different from each other. This belief caused considerable irritation to the anthropologists, linguists and other scholars of the late nineteenth century…” I’ve gotta love someone, who in the midst of a serious inquiry about animals, religion and the nature of life, writes sentences like that.

Ptolemy even addresses the famous Rainbow Bridge poem (“Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge… The animals (there) are happy and content…. and when you and your special friend finally meet… you cross Rainbow Bridge together.) He admits that he finds the poem a “little on the sugary side” (full disclosure, so do I, but it still makes my cry) but also that it brings up a critical issue to many: Can animals go to heaven? That question turned out to elicit more mail than he’s ever received from any one article he’s ever written.

There are so many issues here, from do animals have souls (and thus, what is the nature of “animal” anyway, much less what is a soul?), how have we humans thought of our relationship to other animals over time.If you believe in something like a heaven, do you believe animals go there? If you are interested in an intellectual discussion of these issues you’ll love the book. If you’re looking for a book to let your brain rest and to allow you to escape for awhile from reality, skip this one and pick up the next one.

The Dog Who Knew Too Much is the 4th book in a series of mysteries written by Spencer Quinn. The books are about a struggling private detective (why is that character so popular… detectives are always struggling, right?) and his dog, Chet, and is written from the dog’s perspective. I have to admit that this is usually something that would put me off, not attract me. I haven’t been a fan of most books written from a dog’s eye (nose?) view; they just never seemed to click with me. That was true of The Art of Racing in the Rain, a huge best seller that thousands loved and I just, well, didn’t. (I wrote about that in an earlier blog.) But Chet and Bernie are now in my circle of best friends. I just downloaded the first three books onto my Kindle to accompany me to Scotland and England.

If The Divine Life of Animals is a full course dinner, ranging from appetizers about the author’s love for his pet rabbit to the entree-rich and scholarly comparison of religious beliefs about animals, The Dog Who Knew Too Much is snack food. Good snack food. “Popcorn” books I call them, books that flow like water downhill and practically read themselves. In no way do I mean that to demean either the books or popcorn. I love good popcorn, and will argue to the death that snack food is an important part of a healthy diet. This fourth Chet and Bernie mystery is like really great fresh popcorn with just the right amount of real butter and salt, followed by, oh yes, an entire box of Junior Mints.

Chet’s comments are laugh out loud funny. Here’s just one, early on when we’re learning about the two principle characters. “I remembered that day (the day that Chet found a new home with Bernie), a bad day–flunking out of K9 school just before the leaping test, my very best thing! Was a cat involved? Those parts are pretty hazy….” Chet is always having a vague thought that then leaves his mind as someone mentions bacon or he tries to sort out why someone would refer to your “baby blues” when his eyes are brown…. Everyone, understandably, reacts to books written in a dog’s voice differently, but for the record, this one works for me.

I’d love to hear what you think about a range of issues — On a serious note, do you believe animals have souls? Whoa, I know, it’s a heavy question. (What are souls anyway?) Second, read any good books lately? I’ve got plenty of room on my Kindle to add more!

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: After a few hot and nasty days, accompanied by some pretty serious rain (poor Katie in our office had her parent’s house attacked by falling trees), it’s clear and gorgeous. A perfect fall day. We count ourselves lucky to miss the floods, fires, hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes, famines and other dramas occurring all over the world right now. I’m hoping to get outside soon, but I’ve got some more work to do on the seminars I’m doing in Scotland, lots of house prep and packing, etc etc. Fall is such a busy time for foodies like me: I’ve got wild plums in the frig to process, lots of veggies to get in the freezer, organic local chickens to order, gardens to take care of…. As I write Jim is taking down the portable electric fence and cleaning out the water tank for the sheep. The lambs are thriving, they are almost fat the grass has been so rich this summer, so I’m cutting down on their grain. Willie boy is up to 3 20 minute walks a day, and much less indoor PT for us to do. When we come back, we can start him for very brief periods in the hobbles, off leash. Whee!

Here are some scenes from the farm:

The bees are busy on the Joe Pye Wee. It’s hard work making enough honey to make it through a Wisconsin winter.

The Goldenrod is in its prime now; it will encircle the farm with its yellow gold blooms for another month.