THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

We all know that dogs are wolves in one sense (can reproduce and their young are reproductively viable) and, as importantly, that dogs aren’t wolves at all. Just try to teach a wolf “leave it” if you happen upon a dead rabbit.

Here are two new studies that shed light on the social systems of the domestic dog, and might help some of us decide what we need to be feeding our dogs. First, Erik Axelsson and colleagues compared the genes of wolves and domestic dogs and found some very interesting differences. One of the differences is related to diet: dogs have three genes that wolves do not that play an important role in the digestion of starch (for those of you who are interested, the genes are AMY2B, MGAM and SGLT1). This result supports the “village dog” hypothesis, (of Coppinger and others) that dogs derived from wolves who began exploiting a new ecological niche: human garbage dumps. And not just any garbage dump, but possibly dumps containing food remains that correlate with the beginning of the domestication of plants. Here’s a quote from the paper itself:  “In light of previous results describing the timing and location of dog domestication, our findings may suggest that the development of agriculture catalysed the domestication of dogs.”

This is obviously of great interest to geneticists and evolutionary biologists, but also to those of us who are feeding domestic dogs on a daily basis. As you all are well aware, some argue that wolves primarily eat meat, raw meat at that, and we should use the diet of wild wolves to direct the menus of our companion dogs. At the risk of stirring the pot (so to speak!), about ideal diets for dogs, we would be wise to use the study above to remind ourselves that dogs evolved as omnivores who ate a little bit of just about everything 10 to 12,000 years ago. That does NOT mean that individual dogs do not do better on a particular diet. There is no question that some dogs do better eating “A,” and other dogs can’t handle “A” and do better eating “B.” I’d say the take away messages are to 1) know your dog and 2) don’t be seduced into claims that a new dog food is best for your dog because “it replicates the diet of a wolf.”

A second study, published in Ethology, compared the development of wolf and domestic dog pups, and concluded that differences in the period of socialization and the development of the senses might, at least in part, explain why dogs are so much easier to socialize that wolves. Kathryn Lord, an evolutionary biologist at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, suggests the different behaviors are related to the animals’ earliest sensory experiences and the critical period of socialization. You can read a summary of it in Science Daily, but here’s the bottom line: Although both dogs and wolves develop the ability to smell, see and hear around the same time, she argues, the critical period of socialization for wolves is a full two weeks earlier than in dogs. Most importantly, wolf pups are much more active at two weeks of age, while dog pups are pretty much lumps of cuteness. Incredibly cute, but basically non-functional, as every breeder knows. Wolf pups begin their “critical period” around two weeks of age, when they are also extremely active. Lord noted that wolf pups begin exploring their environment at two weeks of age, when they aren’t able to process sensory information–they were basically exploring an environment while being deaf and blind. Perhaps not surprising then that the wolf pups reacted with a great deal of fear when they were first able to see and hear stimuli.

On the other hand, dog pups began their activity around four weeks of age, and in general did not react to stimuli with much fear until much later in their development. This is an interesting finding, but I suspect there is a lot more to it. For one thing, Lord argues that dog pups can’t hear until four weeks of age, and that’s not quite accurate. As I understand it, the auditory canal begins to open around day 13-15, and pups begin to respond to sounds soon after that. They probably can’t hear very well until three to four weeks of age, but there’s no question they can hear something earlier than that.

What’s new about Lord’s study (and yeah for her for doing it) are her observations comparing the “fear factor” in wolf and domestic dog pups. We’ve known for a long time that wolves are much more neophobic than dogs, (afraid of new things), and Lord’s observations certainly add to our understanding of what drives that behavioral difference. Interesting stuff… here’s hoping more comes out of the same laboratory.

MEANWHILE, A DIVERSION! We’ve been having a great time on Facebook with a contest we started called “Take the Pledge.” We photographed Willie and Katie’s Lily “taking the pledge” to be the best dogs they can be in 2013, and asked Facebook readers to email photos of their dogs doing the same. We picked ten of the best photos, and posted them on Facebook. The owner (and dog) of the photo that receives the most “likes” wins a specially signed copy of For the Love of  Dog and one of Willie’s favorite toys. (Don’t worry, he’s got lots of them.) Voting ends Monday, January 28, so be sure to join in on the fun soon. Even if you’re not on Facebook, the pictures are still worth a look to get your daily dose of Oxytocin. Here are just a few to make you smile…

We all know about the “Black Dog Syndrome,” the belief that all black dogs are harder to place from shelters and rescues than dogs of other colorations. I’ll admit that when I first heard about it I didn’t question whether it was true. For one thing, when I bred Border Collie puppies I saw a strong bias for pups with white on them and against all black pups. Every once in a while a buyer would tell me that they especially loved the looks of the “plain,” all black pup, but they were the exception, not the rule. The second reason I assumed the Black Dog syndrome was true was that so many people in shelters told me they experienced it at their facility, that indeed, in their experience, all black dogs were harder to place than others.

However, I just read an interesting blog on the ASPCA site about the issue, written by Dr. Emily Weiss. In it she recounts the result of a study done by PhD psychologist Lucinda Woodward et al, and published in Society and Animals in early 2012. In summary, they found that breed had a significant effect on participant’s perception of the dogs, but color did not. As a matter of fact, in a study looking at breed versus color effect, black labs were rated as significantly more friendly, less dominant and more submissive dogs of dogs of seven other breeds, with only the Golden retriever rated more highly. (The breeds were: Border collie, Boxer, German shepherd, Golden retriever, Black Lab, Pit bull, Standard Poodle and Rottweiler.)

This is not surprising when you think of it, given that black labs are the most popular breed in the U.S. last I looked. (Which in itself should give us all pause about the “black dog syndrome.”)

In addition, in a related study that focused on color and size in just one breed, all black poodles were judged to be friendlier than all white ones (and small white poodles were categorized as the least friendly!). These results suggest that color might not be as important a factor as we have assumed. Rather, the fact that so many black dogs hang out for long periods in shelters may be attributed to the fact that there are simply more of them.

Clearly we need a lot more research on this topic. Although this study is interesting, and I would argue important, in that it gets us into a conversation about what makes dogs attractive to people (which could help shelters place more dogs), it is just one study. It’s conclusions are indirect: just because a group of people rated some dogs as more friendly than others doesn’t mean they would necessarily adopt them from a shelter. But it is a good start.

I have two questions I’d love to ask of you: One is directed to shelter and rescue workers: What is your own experience? Think hard about the relationship between breed, size and color, related to the number of dogs that enter your care and the number that go out. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Secondly, what about you? I’m getting personal here: Do you have certain colors of fur that you like better? I do, although it feels almost shameful to admit it. I hereby admit to liking some colors better than others. For example, I was hoping for a Blenheim Cavalier when working with Cav rescue groups, and I admit to really, really wanting one. I just love looking at that particular color pattern. And then Tootsie showed up and was friendly, and sweet and cuddly and no one else seemed to want her and how could I possibly pass her up because she didn’t look exactly like I wanted her to? Of course I did adopt her, and I’m glad every day that I did. This morning I laughed out loud watching her ears flying as she ran to the barn. But I still admit that some  colors make my eyes happier than others. Anyone else willing to admit to same?

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Most of the snow is gone now, and what remains is patchy, frozen solid and difficult to walk on. It’s not very pretty, but more than that, the snow that remains resembles slippery cement more than anything else, and I worry about Willie’s shoulder on a daily basis. His “slow down” cue comes in handy here and I probably use it 20 times a day. Then again, I expect I’ll be asking Willie to slow down until the day he dies.

The good part about the snow having partially disappeared is that the upper pasture, which is in full sun all day, is now completely clear, so Willie and I got to work sheep for the first time since November. We had great fun, but I found I needed to remind myself to tell Willie if he was right or wrong, rather than telling him what to do. Old habits die hard, hey? The bad part about the snow melt is that it is supposed to get bitter cold in a few days, which will be hard on the plants without an insulating cover of snow. Not to mention that my desire to be outside wanes as the thermometer goes below zero Fahrenheit.

Here’s an area beside the driveway that gets some sun during the day, but only a few hours worth. Not especially scenic, but then, it’s not always a calendar cover out in the country.

I played a bit with my new camera this morning. Here’s Mr. Willie helping me out. I changed the auto focus to focus only on the center point, and not to average all the focal points as most cameras do unless you set them differently. I like the results, although it looks to me as though I focused more on the middle of his face rather than his eyes. Gotta work on that.

By the way, speaking of pictures… check out Facebook next week when we post the 5 finalists for the “Take the Pledge” contest. Here’s Willie taking the pledge to be a good, good dog in 2013!

Last weekend Jim, Willie, Tootsie and I stayed in a lovely log cabin owned by friends in the woods in eastern Wisconsin. I mention that because for the first time in her nine years of life, Tootsie got to run off leash in an unfenced area off the farm. Wooo Hooo! Some people might not understand what a huge step that was for a little puppy mill dog, but I’m guessing that many of you get it completely. I was over the moon with happiness that I could unsnap the lead, and trust that she would stop when told, come when called, and as importantly, get to sniff and explore with more freedom than she’s ever had in her nine years of life.

The decision I made got me thinking about the issue in general: When IS it safe to let a dog off leash? What do you need to know to evaluate the risk and decide whether to take it? I thought it might be an interesting exercise to list some of my criteria and decision points in regards to Tootsie, and to hear your thoughts and experiences in addition.

I should probably mention here that it is my belief that one of the things dogs want more than anything in the world is a certain amount of autonomy. Some dogs have a ton of it, others almost none, but surely every dog wants to be able to do what she wants to do, when she wants to do it at least some of the time. Being off leash fulfills that to a great extent, but it also puts dogs at the potential of risk. So how does one decide when to unsnap the lead? Here are at least some of the things that need to be considered:

CONTROL: It is something of an irony that the more control we have over our dogs, the more freedom we can give them. Never is that more true when asking if a dog can be safe off leash, and it was the question I asked myself late Friday night when I decided it was 99.999% a sure thing that once off leash and out of the car, Tootsie would sniff around, relieve herself and then immediately come when I called. But how does one know if a dog will come when called in any context?  Ah, you don’t, not 100%, but here’s what I think you need to get to 99.9999%:

STOP ON A DIME: People often assume that all one needs to manage an off leash dog is a good recall, but I’m a big proponent of first teaching a dog to stop on cue. Asking a dog to stop on a dime might be critical for the dog’s safety, and if you think about it, that’s a very different exercise than asking a dog to come back to you. I can’t count the number of times I asked Willie to stop and stand still (I use “Stand,” a cue common in sheep herding that asks a dog to do exactly that: don’t lie down, but stop moving). Perhaps he was starting to sniff beside a partially frozen stream, or I wanted him to wait for me to catch up before he went around a corner on a trail we were walking.

Besides being a handy cue, I’ve learned it is much more effective to ask a dog to stop first before calling him to come back to you, especially if he is moving fast in another direction. Think about it: If a dog is running away from you, in order to back to you she has to 1) stop, 2) turn around and 3) come back to you. That’s three things, right? I’ve found it far more effective, especially with dogs who love to run, to teach them first to stop on cue before asking them to do a recall. It’s not all that hard to do: Just let your dog get a step or two ahead of you and say “Whoa!” or “Stand” and then reinforce with something ridiculously wonderful. Gradually use the cue when the dog is either 1) farther away from you and 2) moving faster. Try to keep those 2 components separate as much as you can, and gradually build up to asking the dog to stop while tearing off in another direction. Manage this carefully though and set your dog up to win: don’t yell “Whoa” when  your beagle is disappearing into the woods after a rabbit if you haven’t gotten full compliance at a much easier level. However, a good stop is not enough…. you also need:

A RIDICULOUSLY GOOD RECALL: Coming when called when there’s no environmental competition simply doesn’t count as a “good enough recall”. One of the reasons I decided to let Tootsie off leash in the woods last weekend is because we have spent several months working on her coming when called while running away from me at a dead run toward something she really, really wanted. I’ve worked on her recall ever since I got her a year and a half ago (if you missed those blogs, she had been a puppy mill brood bitch for 7 years). It took me months to let her off leash at the farm, and then only in specific contexts in which I felt her behavior was completely predictable. But it’s one thing to have a dog come when called in a predictable and consistent context. It’s an entirely different matter to be able to get a dog to come to you when it is already dashing away toward something it wants.

I was lucky here, because the farm provided the perfect set up. First, I have several fenced areas where I could safely let Tootsie off leash and work on her recall. The area around the house and barn is not fenced however, and has a road that runs by about 75 yards from the house, so I was much more cautious about letting her off leash there. In that context I first worked on teaching Tootsie to heel beside me as we walked from the house to the barn. She adores food, and so it didn’t take long to get a reliable response. Then I began asking her to stop or recall when I released her from the heel. I knew she would run straight to the barn, so I had no worries about her safety. I had her favorite food (chicken) in my pocket and asked her to stop the first time when she had just barely left my side. Gradually I began to give the cue when she was farther and farther away from me. Once I could get to her turn on a dime and run back to me even when twenty yards away I began to test it in other contexts. And sure enough, she flipped her little body in mid-air and came running.

CONTEXT: Location, Location, Location. Realtors aren’t the only ones who emphasize the importance of location. There are simply many places I would never let Tootsie off leash. Here’s an example: we went recently to visit a friend who lives in a suburb, with a small lawn between the house and the road. I asked her to potty before we went inside, and never would have considered letting her off leash in that context. Why? Because first, we were just too close to a road for comfort, she could have gotten into the road before I could blurt out a cue. Second, what would be the point? The cost/benefit balance was skewed far to the negative: the risk in no way was worth the pay off. At the cabin however, the closest road was a good 600 yards away,  and the payoff was huge. She got to be a dog off the farm for the first time in her little life, and although I’m sure some people would argue one should never take any risk at all, I’m not one of them. The only 100% guarantee of safety for Tootsie was to live in a cage, and she’d already done that for seven years. Enough is enough.

WHO’S YOUR DOG? If asked to name three things we all needed to consider before letting our dogs off leash, I’d say knowing each dog as a personality is the third. Tootsie spent 7 years in a cage, and didn’t know that the noises people made were meaningful for most of her life. She’s come incredibly far, but she’s still a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel that I got at age 7 who had never been trained to do anything for most of her life. Willie, on the other hand, came with recall software pre-installed. I could just about take him anywhere and let him off leash, although I still don’t take chances, because, really, what’s the point?

NEVER DONE: One last point: Don’t ever stop “training your dog to come.” I still often reinforce Willie for coming when called, sometimes with voice, sometimes with the toss of a toy or letting him chase me as I run away from him.  And I’ll never stop watching Tootsie like a hawk if she is off leash, and reminding her how very, very fun it is to come when called.

Here’s the little girl now, rounding the corner of the barn when I called her back to me from a dead sprint. She looks so serious, doesn’t she? But damn, she sure comes running!

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: A bit of a sad day. We’ve had a doe fawn living in the Orchard Pasture all spring and summer. Something was terribly wrong with her, she clearly wasn’t able to cope with living on her own. She would run smack into the fences at a dead run and was never able to jump them like all the other deer. She did well over the summer when there was a lot of food, but because she stayed in a very small area there was no way she was going to make it through the winter. There was also the concern about coyotes; eventually they would have found her and killed her. And so I contacted a DNR warden who came out, agreed that she was probably blind, and that she would slowly starve over the winter. Deer can’t be captured and re-located (they die of stress, it is horrifically cruel to try to capture and relocate them), and it was inevitable that the coyotes would find and kill her. The warden agreed that she should be put down, and did so humanely with one perfect shot. I know it was the right thing to do, and I know that deer are as common out here as beetles, but oh lordy they are lovely animals, and I’m feeling a big of sadness that such a beautiful thing didn’t make it.

Here she was yesterday:

I recently read an interesting study about the effect of different types of music on kenneled dogs. (“Behavioral effect of auditory stimulation on kenneled dogs,” by Kogan, Schoenfeld-Tacher & Simon, J of Veterinary Behavior 7, 2012, 268-275.) The authors’ goal was to determine if different types of music, as has been reported in other species, had different types of effects on dogs, and the results indeed confirmed that this was true. The results suggested that 1) “classical music” increases the amount of time the dogs spent sleeping, and 2) “heavy metal” music increased body shaking (or trembling). Surprisingly however, “psychoacoustically designed” music, a piano piece specifically designed to calm dogs, resulted in no statistically significant change in behavior from silence.

First off, I want to acknowledge Kogan et al for doing important research on the effects of the acoustic environment on domestic dogs. We so often focus on other aspects of their environment–Is their dog bed comfy? Does it look pretty to us?–and fail to attend to the impact of sound on our dog’s environment (not to mention our own). This is by no means the first study to look at the responses of dog to sound or music, but it is an important step toward a more complete and nuanced understanding of how dogs respond to different types of sound, a topic near and dear to my heart.

Many of you know that my dissertation research was about the effect of different types of sounds on working domestic animals, and so it’s not surprising that I am especially interested in this topic. My study found that short, rapidly-repeated notes increased motor activity in dogs, and that long, continuous notes were universally used to soothe or calm working dogs and horses (Perspectives in Ethology, Vol 9, 1991). In another study, Wells found no observable changes in behavior in shelter dogs listening to human speech, “pop music” or no music, but increases in resting postures and decreased barking to “classical music,” while heavy metal music elicited increased barking and rising to a stand (2000, 2002, Applied Animal Behavior Science).

Kogan’s research replicates those findings (with an exception discussed below), but a conversation with Primatologist Charles Snowdon, PhD and an expert on animals and their responses to sound, reminded me of an important point. Kogan refers to “classical music” as resulting in more frequent observations of dog sleeping, but as Dr. Snowdon reminded me, “classical music”  includes a broad range of pieces, from soothing selections like “Moonlight Sonata” (one of the pieces played to the dogs in Kogan’s study) to the 1812 Overture, which one would hardly describe as “soothing,” at least not to humans. Thus, it is not the classification of the music that matters, but the features of each piece that make the difference. Leave it to some monkeys to emphasize that point for us . . .

In one of the decade’s most innovative pieces of research, Snowdon used his knowledge of Cotton Top Tamarin vocalizations to ask what effect human music would have on another primate species. He first found that “human” music had little observable effect on the monkeys, but when his collaborator, cellist and composer David Teie, modified the music based on the pitches and tempos of the vocal repertoire of the tamarins, they discovered that the monkey’s responses followed what appear to be common, if not universal, mammalian responses to certain aspects of music. Here’s a link to samples of the modified music.

Snowdon’s & Teie’s work reminds us that what is important is not whether the music is “classical” or “heavy metal,” but whether it includes a set of acoustic features that appear to be universally associated with soothing or stimulating internal states. Those features include:

1) Longer notes tend to be calming, staccato (short, repeated) notes stimulating (think saying “Sta-a-a-a-a-y” to a dog versus “Pup-pup-pup-pup” when calling to come).

2) Pure tones & regular rhythms are associated with positive states, harsh, noisy ones & irregular rhythms with negatives states (think about a high, clear repeated whine from a puppy who wants attention versus a low, “noisy” growl from a dog warning another off a bone.)

3) A tempo matching an animal’s resting heart rate (or respiration) tends to be calming.

All of this suggests that it can indeed be valuable to play certain types of music to individual dogs or dogs in kenneled situations. However, if you recall, Kogan’s work did not find that the “psychoacoustically designed” music had an effect on the dog’s behavior when compared to other pieces or to no music at all. The particular piece of music used in the study was a section of Music to Calm Your Canine  Companion, music included in the book Through a Dog’s Ear. We sell it on our website, and is also available separately as a CD.

Although I’m not qualified to analyze all the acoustic changes Leeds and Wagner made to make music especially soothing to dogs, the basic principles followed what we have learned about how sound effects the animal who hears it. The music (all piano played by musician Lisa Spector) is modified from “classical” pieces that follow the criteria above, so why wouldn’t it be equally effective at soothing the dogs who heard it?

I talked to Kogan about her results, and she too was surprised by the dog’s responses to the “Dog’s Ear” music. She felt confident that the results were robust, in that they made thousands of observations and the results were consistent.  For example, during the presentation of “classical music,” (Fur Elise, Moonlight Sonata, Blue Danube Waltz & Air on a G String) the dogs were observed sleeping 3.7 to 6.0 % of the time. That compares with 1.1 % of the time during periods of no music and 1.4 % of the time during the presentation of the Dog’s Ear music. (On the other hand, she reported that in as many as 71.2 % of the observational periods a dog was observed shaking (as if visibly nervous) during only the heavy metal music, a fact which makes me want to run back in time, turn off the music and give the dogs a belly rub.)

What could possibly explain these results? After all, the Dog’s Ear music is sold as having proven effects on dogs, and large numbers of people have reported that the music is helpful to their dogs. You can listen to some samples here. It also follows many of the criteria listed above. I spoke to author and musicologist Joshua Leeds about Kogan’s results, and he too admitted to being surprised at the outcome. His best guesses as to the lack of effect of Dog’s Ear music were 1) Acoustics: Sound is conveyed differently by different types of equipment and through different environments. Perhaps the speakers used conveyed the music of a full orchestra better than simple piano music? However, two of the “classical” pieces used in the Kogan et al study were also piano music, so that’s probably not the answer. However, his pieces are ‘simplified,” they have fewer notes and perhaps might be differentially affected by the speakers and room acoustics. 2) His pieces are designed as progressions, but in the study a short section of “Dog’s Ear” music was put on a tape loop and played repeatedly. Leeds modifies three factors in his music for calming dogs: tone (resonance), tempo (entrainment) and pattern. He modified the music he selected by eliminating certain frequencies, “simplifying” the music to make it more relaxing to the brain, and decreasing the beats per minute, and it is designed to be played in full, not in small, repeated units. To his credit, he and his colleagues did a pilot study that was supportive of the desired results (calmer dogs) but as is true for all pilot studies, it had some holes and wasn’t by any means the “definitive study.” But all we can do is speculate about the lack of effect of the Dog’s Ear music in Kogan’s study. It may be that the music truly doesn’t have any calming effect on dogs when tested objectively, but it also may be that there are other factors we don’t yet understand that are skewing the results.

What about you? I’m truly curious about your experience if you’ve tried any of the CDs from Through a Dog’s Ear. Have you tried it? If so, what was your experience? Katie here at the office saw no observable effect when her Dogo was an adolescent, but found that Lily dozed off as if on sleeping pills not too long ago when she heard the Dog’s Ear CD play. I tried it with Willie during acupuncture, and found no observable change in his behavior, but Lassie seemed to relax especially fast during acupuncture treatments if I played it to her. These are of course, only  anecdotal reports, but all of our observations can still be extremely valuable. I’d love to hear about your experience.

Here’s what we do know for sure: Some kinds of music or other sounds do indeed seem to have a positive effect on kenneled dogs, especially sounds with long, extended notes, pure tones and relatively slow tempos. We also know, from Snowdon’s research, that we need to look at the acoustic range and vocal repertoire of each species before we make too many assumptions about what kind of sounds have what effect. Here’s what we don’t know: exactly what are all the best acoustic features to calm and soothe dogs in over stimulating environments? How effective is music “simplified” and modified based on theory but not yet a lot of data? I’ll leave you with one very important comment made by Lori Kogan when I interviewed her about the study: It’s not just the dogs we want to think about. If the people who come to visit a shelter are in an attractive, pleasing environment, one that is playing pleasant, soothing music, surely they would be more likely to stay longer at minimum, and perhaps more likely to adopt?  A great point I think, and another reminder of the importance of the acoustic environment around us and our dogs.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Tootsie has been learning that leaping up and pawing at the gate to Willie’s crate is not the way to get a treat in her own kennel. Last week I realized I was mindlessly (but gently) pushing her off of Willie’s crate as I was closing his door in preparation to taking Tootsie to her own crate. Willie would enthusiastically run into his crate, Tootsie would dance and leap as I shut his door in excited anticipation of what was to come (a treat for her in her own crate.) Ah, a perfect opportunity to let Tootsie figure it out on her own. This week when she leaps up I simply stand up and go still. I reinforced her for standing four on the floor by moving one step toward her crate and sure enough, the leaping and pawing is almost gone. I’d say we are half way to her linking my shutting Willie’s crate as a cue for her to run into hers. I’ll keep you posted.

Winter is certainly here, it was quite a bit below zero (Farenheit) here a few mornings ago. The kitties are staying warm by cuddling together in a dog bed I bought for Tootsie (who still has more than she needs, believe me) which is placed inside of blankets and cardboard boxes in the garage. Not very fancy, but toasty warm and makes for one very adorable picture every morning when I open the farm house door to see Nellie and Polly cuddled up together. Tootsie has become one very hardy little Cavalier, she pounces around in the snow like an Arctic fox, although if it’s below 10 degrees I don’t take her out for long. Willie, not surprisingly, is oblivious. He’ll hold up a paw if it is truly bitter after we’ve been out awhile, and I am careful to avoid the potential of frost bite, but he basically adores cold weather and snow and probably thinks it was all created just for him.

Photos of Cardinals in winter are so common they are trite, but they are common for a reason. There’s little more cheerful than red birds with a background of evergreens and white snow. Most of the photos are of the strikingly colored males, but I have a soft spot in my heart for the females, their colors are so nuanced. Here’s one this morning:

And here she is flying to the feeder, directly toward me and my lens.

These photos are okay, but I can’t wait for my new camera! I’m counting the days til it arrives.