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…

When I was doing my PhD research in the 1980′s I wanted to see how a dog’s brain responded to different types of sounds before and after training. This was in the 1980′s, and the only method available for animals was to do Evoked Potential tests, in which simple, tiny electrical sensors were glued to the scalp. This allowed one to measure activity in the brain in an extremely general way: What kind of brain waves does one see in the Temporal versus the Parietal lobe, for example, after hearing or seeing specific stimuli?

Evoked Potential tests are logistically easy to do on adults: You shave tiny areas of the scalp, glue on the sensors, and ask the subject to stay still for a set period of time. The research subject mustn’t move, because muscles move through electrical stimulation in the brain too, so any movement confounds the brain’s response to external stimuli. But how do you do it on dogs?  How would you keep them still? Absolutely motionless? And here I was in Zoology, not neurobiology, so how would I pull this off?

I felt lucky to be at a large research institution like the University of Wisconsin in Madison, and so I reached out to neurobiologists in other departments. “How does one do Evoked Potential tests on dogs?” I asked. “No problem” I was told. “It’s not that difficult.” “But how do you keep the dogs from moving while you’re doing the test?” I asked. I received a blank face and a silence as an answer. “I don’t understand.” the expert informed me. “What do you mean?” I repeated my question. His answer, after another pause, was “We just don’t bump the tray.”

Slowly, with growing horror, I began to understand why he was confused by my question. I hadn’t asked “How do you do Evoked Potential on live dogs?” The dogs they used for their research weren’t alive; they were killed and the tests were done immediately after their death. Not what I had in mind, needless to say. I left his office and found a researcher (Dennis Molfese at Southern Illinois University) who did Evoked Potential tests on human infants. We did use small dosages of Acepromazine to quiet the dogs, but also did lots of training, and had few problems keeping the dogs still. We ended up with good results that showed dogs paid more attention to short repeated notes when linked with recalls than long, continuous notes.

You can see then, why I am thrilled to read that researchers have now pulled off doing fMRIs on happy, healthy, live dogs. Scientist Berns and others in Atlanta worked with owners to train 2 dogs to sit motionless in an MRI machine for 10 seconds at a time. If you’ve ever had an MRI, you know that this requires far more than just lying still. For reasons once explained to me while I lay frozen with fear in a tight, dark tunnel, the magnetic part of the MRI creates an ear splitting series of pops and bangs and groans that is hard for many people to sit through. And yet, they pulled it off with dogs, and got some interesting results.

“The task was designed to determine which brain circuits differentially respond to human hand signals denoting the presence or absence of a food reward.” And sure enough, when a visual signal was given that meant food was coming (not unlike a clicker stimulus), the ventral straitum of the caudate cluster was more active than when a visual signal meaning “no food coming” was seen by the dogs. Activating the ventral straitum causes the release of dopamine, the “Oh Boy!” neurohormone mediating happy anticipation. It’s the same neurochemistry that occurs when you get your dog’s leash and she begins to dance in anticipation of a walk.

The results are interesting, but not earth shaking, given they were exactly what was expected. What IS earth shaking is that scientists have found a way to study what happens inside a dog’s brain in kind and compassionate ways. This is huge…. the amount of information we could derive from this is immeasurable. I have long said that our relationship with dogs provides us with research opportunities unlike any other, and here’s proof of it.  Stay tuned… the next couple of decades of research and our understanding of other animals are going to be absolutely amazing.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: The lambs are thriving, the dawn chorus of bird song floods into the farmhouse around 4:30 am, but who could mind such a beautiful way to wake up?

And although the weather has been challenging of late, (hot, cold, wet, no rain, too much rain, you name it), the flowers continue to lift me up and make me happy. Here’s an Iris I planted last year, first time seeing it bloom:

A million years ago, my first Border Collie Drift lept up and nipped a man’s nose at the Wisconsin State Fair. Even though the man was clearly not injured, with virtually not even a red spot on his nose, I was shook up and appalled. He was furious. “Your dog attacked me!”

Well, he did. Just because the man wasn’t injured didn’t mean he didn’t feel attacked. And it didn’t mean that I didn’t feel horrible. Drift and I were about to perform in front of huge crowd by doing a sheep herding demo, and found ourselves jammed into a crowd against the building wall. The gentlemen in question charged up to Drift, grabbed his face in his hands, and yes, you guessed it, bent down to kiss Drift on the nose. It was the same exact context in which newscaster Kyle Dyer was bitten by a Dogo a few months ago. In some ways, everything was different: Kyle was badly injured and it was recorded on video tape for all the world to see. And in one way, everything was the same: A stranger holds a dog’s head in his/her hands and looms over to kiss a dog on the nose. Just like David Letterman was bitten on camera years ago. Just like how many people are bitten every year?

I find myself thinking of this before the beginning of Dog Bite Prevention Week, which runs from May 20 to May 26. It’s an important topic and I’m in complete support of efforts to raise awareness and prevent dog bites. The figures bandied about are that there are almost 5 million dog bites every year in the US (but see Dogs Bite but Balloons and Slippers are More Dangerous…). Given that that figure appears to include events in which there was no injury whatsoever, the number is undoubtedly on the high side, but no matter how many there are, we all should be working to decrease them.

There is lots of good, standard information out there about preventing dog bites. The AVMA has a good website on bite prevention, as does the ASPCA and HSUS. There is lots of good advice on all these sites, especially related to keeping children from being bitten (the most common recipient of a dog bite appears to be a child from the ages of 5 to 9). However, much of it is general: pick a good puppy, train your dog, have a fenced yard, teach children to ask first, etc.

This is all good information, but we all know that no list is enough to prevent many of the bites that occur. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep up our efforts. Here’s my list, which builds on the standard advice and adds my own observations and experience, I’m counting on you to add to it:

1. Leashes Aren’t Muzzles. (Neither are muzzles for that matter.) In other words, keeping your dog on a leash won’t prevent him from biting someone. Sometimes leashes can precipitate bites if a dog is nervous and feels trapped. I’ve been overwhelmed by clients who believed that if their dog was attached by a leash, or even if they were close to their dog, that they could prevent a bite. We can prevent lots of bites from happening, but not always with leashes and proximity. When people miss signals of discomfort or tension in their dogs, they end up trying to stop a bite after it has begun. Stopping a dog in mid-air, within the micro-second required, to observe, evaluate and respond is far beyond the skill level of most people. People rarely say or think “I”m being bitten.” By the time you figure out what’s happened, it’s over.  Far better to understand both context and behavior to prevent a bite long before your dog even thinks about it. And my comment about muzzles? Dogs can still hurt people, even with a muzzle on. There are lots of ways to lower the risk, but there’s no magic out there. Based on all this, you can predict my next point:

2. Learn to Read Dogs, and Teach Others What You Know. Recall Michele Wan’s research that showed the dog owning public is not very good at reading signs of negative emotions in dogs (fear, anxiety, etc.). Thus, we all need to do what we can to help educate everyone around us. It’s not helpful for us to pull our hair and roll our eyes about how bad people are at reading dogs, and how often they behave in ways that simply beg a dog to bite them. That just makes us right, and being right gets us one thing and one thing only: Being Right. That’s not going to decrease the number of dog bites out there, so we need to use our knowledge to help others. If you’re a trainer, get yourself on television, give out handouts, refer people to materials and websites that will help them translate dog. There are tons of them. Needless to say I have my own at my website, (and FYI, I have a new DVD coming out this coming Monday titled “Lost in Translation,” a day-long seminar on how dogs use sight, sound and smell to communicate) and there are many other great books and DVDs available through Dogwise and Tawzer Videos.

3. Understand Context: This contains a vast range of issues, from what tends to scare dogs in general (strangers grabbing their heads and trying to kiss their noses, surely a problem we can all understand–want a strange man to grab your head and smash his face into your own?), what scares each dog as an individual, and how the context itself can add risk. My Border Collie Drift was trapped and overwhelmed, as was the Dogo that bit Ms. Dyer. I’ve had numerous clients whose dogs bit someone after a long, exhausting day. I can’t tell you how often I’ve heard about dogs who were “just wonderful” with all the children at the picnic all afternoon and evening long until … In hind sight the owner’s tell me “They should have known how tired their dog was…”. Yes, they should have, but we need to help spread the word that even good dogs can get grumpy too when they are exhausted. And when they are overwhelmed. Or scared. Or a tad tweaked about life at the moment.

4. Practice Interventions and Use Them When Necessary. This is where I went wrong all those years ago. If I was in that same situation now I would have never have allowed that man get that close to Drift. I would have moved between him and Drift before he could have grabbed Drift’s face and leaned down to kiss him. Body Blocks work really, really well on people, and can be used to avoid a great many risky situations.

Just a few days ago I was at a pet store that allows dogs and saw an owner use one perfectly. He had an adult Rottie, a lovely, happy-faced dog, who was approached by a squiggly, squirmy Golden Retriever puppy. The puppies’ owner let her dog dash toward the Rottie until they sniffed nose to nose. We were in tight quarters at the check out line. The Rottie had no where to back up into, and the enthusiastic puppy was about to jump onto his head. Wisely, the owner stepped quickly between the dogs, moved toward the puppy a step or two to move him away and then turned and smooched to his dog to follow him.

I turned to the pup’s owner, who had appeared surprised at what had happened and seemed a little bit put out. I thought perhaps I could use this as a teaching moment, and explained “I think the Rottie might have been a tad bit uncomfortable with your pup.” I hope she understood my point, but I can’t say, because the Rottie’s other owner turned to me and said, defensively, “He is a LOVELY dog, he is NOT aggressive.” Ah, and I thought he was a lovely dog myself, but I also noted that owner number one was wise enough to know that any trouble might react to a rude pup in that context, and quick as a wink did a body block. Huzzah! and Yeah! for him I say. Even lovely dogs have contexts in which they are uncomfortable, and more power to us when we know what they are.

5. The World’s Most Dangerous Words Are “I Think It’ll Be Okay.” I asked a salesman once if the hardware I was about to buy would stay attached to a wall if a 150 pound dog lunged against it with all his power. “I think so,” the guy said. This is when red flags should fly and noises generated by the security systems of nuclear power plants should start pounding into your ears. “Think it’s okay” is just not good enough when you are talking about a potential dog bite. I tell clients whose dogs are at risk of biting that we first, before talking about treatment, need to create the kind of risk management system included in submarines and power plants. If your not sure if your dog is 100% stable in a situation and you find yourself saying “I think it’ll be okay” without a careful and thoughtful risk analysis, I want you to hear AH OOOGA, AH OOOGA blasting in your ear. You want to hear “I KNOW it will be okay,” or given that life is never 100% predictable, “The probability of my dog hurting or scaring someone is less than .01 of one percent, and I’m willing to take that risk.” Whatever you decide, it should be very thoughtful, based on a lot of knowledge and be very, very conservative. Bites can be horrible for everyone, including the dog, and once they happen you’re in a entirely different context, and it’s not a good one.

And you? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. I expect they will be both thoughtful and thought provoking, as usual.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Spring sweet spring. Well, sort of. Summer, sweet summer? It’s in the low 80′s, sunny and warm and already I’m worrying a bit about when it will rain next. It’s been awhile.

But 8 of the 9 lambs are thriving, filling out with muscles and frolicking in the dappled shade of the woods. Spot’s twin ram lamb, who I’ve been supplementing with goat’s milk (mom’s udder is only giving milk from one side), was a voracious vacuum at first when given a bottle, but now he’s fussy and hesitant and only takes a few sips and then stops. This started after he was vaccinated and banded (and thus he lost trust in me), but the other bottle lamb, one of triplets, needed only a day to get over it. Spot’s boy, however, has remained hesitant and cautious.

His tiny twin sister, who I was most concerned about originally, continues to remind me that size doesn’t matter. She’s the pushy one. And although she refuses to take milk from a bottle (“Ugh, ugh!” she indicates by curling her lip and turning away), she’s filling out like a tick and has begun mounting the two ram lambs every time they start to drink out of the bottle. I’m speculating that with only one teat working, she’s dominating it and her brother is losing out. He doesn’t look bad, he’s just not gaining like the others, so I’ll keep working on getting him more milk. I tried a self feeder, which has been successful in the past, but I started late and because they all get milk from their momma’s they had little interest. I’ll keep you posted, we’re going to look at him more carefully this weekend for any physical or medical problems.

Willie and I just moved the entire flock up the hill to the orchard pasture so that my handy neighbor could bring in his bobcat and clear out the barn pen. May I be forgiven for saying that Willie’s work on the sheep was paw perfect? And where was the video camera when I needed?

As you can see, right now at the farm it’s all about lambs and flowers and working Willie and weeding weeding weeding.  And, oh yeah, rhubarb & strawberry pie. Did I mention weeding?

Here’s the only bloom on the new Tree Peony we planted last year. I almost didn’t include the photograph because the focus isn’t crisp, but decided to anyway because it is still lovely in a kind of smear-petroleum-jelly-on-the-lens-for-the-aging-actress kind of way.

And here’s the Iris in front of the please-paint-me-this-summer porch. You can see Willie boy in the background, watching the sheep in behind the electric fence in the front yard:

It makes me so happy to say that Tootsie is doing great. Right now she’s sleeping in her crate beside my desk. The door is open, but she loves it there. The only places she likes as well are 1) being in bed with me, 2) being on the couch or 3) being by herself in the crate in the back of the car. She likes it so well in the car crate that I am actually having to train to leave it. I’m assuming this is baggage from her puppy mill days and that she feels most secure and comfortable in a small, confined space.

She’s progressed so well in so many ways: I’m especially taken with her flipping around mid-air when outside after I call her to come, ears flying like a furry dumbo, her open, happy mouth taking up half of her tiny little Cavalier head. As I mentioned in an earlier post, now that house training is behind us (wheee!), she can be outside off leash as long as I watch her like a hawk and keep her close to the house, she no longer barks to wake us up and produce her dinner, so it’s time to continue work on standard training. We’ve gotten started on sitting on cue, but I thought it would be fun to start her on clicker training at the same time.

I’ve worked on sit off and on, never with much diligence, but she is getting the hang of it. I started with lure training–using the smell of a great treat to ‘lure’ her body into a sitting position. Now that I’m going to start her with a clicker, I find myself thinking about the two different methods of training: luring and clicker training. Both have advantages and disadvantages, but I find that combining the two of them can be especially effective in some contexts.

Luring has the advantage of initial speed: In the case of sit, a la Ian Dunbar, you hold a tiny, tasty treat at the crown of a dog’s head and move it back toward their tail (not up, straight back.) As a dog’s nose follows the treat straight back toward their tail, their body finds it hard to stay standing, and so the hips automatically collapse and voila, your dog is sitting. Bingo, the treat gets popped into the mouth and your dog just got rewarded for sitting. Once you have the behavior established, you turn the motion of luring into a visual signal, and then bring in the verbal cue and start minimizing the hand motion.  (For a more detailed description, see The Puppy Primer.)

Luring also has a disadvantage: If you’re not careful to drop out the lure and the visual signal early on, the movement becomes the cue. You can end up with a dog who only sits when you move your hand, not when you say “Sit.”

Clicker training has the advantage of creating razor sharp precision, which helps you communicate clearly with your dog. It’s a great thing to teach a dog that their behavior can influence your own, and in a good way at that. I especially like that in most cases, the dog initiates the action, rather than you ‘helping’ him or her. However, strict operant conditioning suggests that you don’t do anything to initiate the behavior, you wait until the dog initiates him or herself, then click and treat to reinforce it. But truth be told, I’m not someone who is going to wait for a dog to sit when they feel like it, click opportunistically and then wait again for the next time. Not when I can lure a dog into a sit, get 15 reps into one sessions, and then take over with a clicker once I’ve got the behavior started. I tend to mix methods for actions that are easy to lure and for movements or behaviors that dogs do naturally. I should warn you: some trainers feels strongly that methods should never be combined, but I’m an equal opportunity employer, and so have no problems doing so as long as you know how to use them together without confusing your dog.

[10 minute break while Trisha goes to work with Tootsie]

First I used a lure/hand signal (with treat) to raise her chin and get her to sit down. My hand was just inches from her mouth and head. She responded well, and I repeated it 3 times.  Then I moved my hand 2 feet from her head, moved it with the same motion as while luring her (just farther away). She responded well until I moved my hand farther away. Now my hand was so far away from her head its motion probably  looked like a completely different signal. I stopped there because I wanted to  move on to clicker training.

I “loaded” the clicker with 25 click/treats (small dog kibble, which she adores… she adores bird seed shells for heaven’s sake, so finding a motivating treat is not a problem with Tootsie.).

Then I lured 3 times relatively close to her head (to create a success) and click/treated when she sat. I then proceeded to disappear the visual signal, added the word “Sit” and in 20 trials had her sitting just to the word “Sit.”

Ah, but here’s an important lesson: I noticed that while saying “Sit” I held both of my hands behind my back. Wondering if that might in itself be a visual signal, I moved the position of one of my arms. Sure enough, she looked at me as if completely confused. When I put both hands behind my back, she sat again when I said “Sit.” But the cue that she was responding to wasn’t the word, it was the position of my hands. Easily fixed, I just began moving my arms and hands into different positions, saying “Sit” and waiting up to 3 seconds for a response, and clicking immediately when she responded correctly. By the time we stopped she was sitting to the word sit no matter what I did with my hands.

And then… experienced trainers can predict the next stage…. I moved three feet backward into the kitchen. Now I was in a different room. Tootsie again looked completely befuddled. Easy to fix; just critical to remember that any action, any posture, any context, any location can be a relevant cue to a dog. In just a few trials she was sitting just to the word in the kitchen as well as the living room. We stopped so that Tootsie didn’t become a Tootsie roll sausage and I could finish this blog.  We’ll take it up again tonight and tomorrow, and start on some tricks this weekend. Ain’t training grand!!!

Question for you all: I know that some trainers are true purists, only using one method or the other. I’m a fan of mix and matching, as long as one understands the potential pit falls. You? [And fyi, I haven't forgotten about following up on the clicker study I wrote about earlier (clickers versus just food as reinforcement): I'm playing phone tag with the author, but I'll let you know as soon as I know more.]

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Willie and I have 3 new sheep to work. I don’t like working him on my small ewe flock now, because they have young lambs and huge bags of milk that have got to be miserably uncomfortable when they flap/slap around whilst the poor ewe is being pushed by a dog. Willie and I try to work them slowly and carefully, but there are times it’s just not possible to keep them from speeding up. There’s another reason: Willie has lost a tremendous amount of confidence since his surgery and confinement, and my most aggressive ewe, Barbie, has gone after him and won several times now. I hate having a dog fight a ewe with a young lamb but I don’t want her winning over and over again and continuing to erode Willie’s confidence. So I have 3 new Katahdin ewes with no udders and no lambs. They are flighty and easy to move and will be great for Willie while he builds up his confidence. Jim, Willie and I just split the 3 newbies off and put them in the orchard pasture high behind the farm house. It took split second timing and quarter-horse short stopping by Willie, but we got it done. Everytime I see him slam his forequarters into the ground I wince: cross your paws for him that he’s not lame tonight, I can’t help but worry. I’ll do some stretching as soon as I’m done here and ice him if his shoulder feels hot.

Here are the new girls, as yet not named (though I’m leaning toward Chili for the red one in the middle). Okay, they aren’t bathing beauties, but they will have a good life here this summer and will be perfect for Willie and me to get our paws back into the game. Those of you who work sheep know that the one in the middle is going to be the challenge: see that lifted chin? Oh my!

Here’s a wider shot, showing you the only reason I could get a close shot of the sheep! Good boy Willie.

So many books, so little time! Here are a few I’m enjoying:

Magnificent Mind at Any Age by Daniel Amen. This is a fascinating book by a psychiatrist who began doing SPECT scans of his patients brains and discovered how many psychological/behavioral problems related to brain function. It’s an inspiring book for anyone looking to improve their health and behavior, and besides being motivated to exercise more and stop drinking diet soda (I know, I know), I find myself thinking about dog behavior on every page. Daniel relates multiple cases of people with behavioral problems (fear, depression, anger, impulsivity) that are improved through diet, exercise, supplements and medications that specifically work on areas of the brain related to those problems. Anyone out there see any dogs who are fearful, impulsive, etc etc…?)

Your Dog’s Best Health by Nancy Kay: The subtitle of this compact, highly readable book is “A dozen reasonable things to expect from your vet.” This book is a great summary of how to have the relationship you’d like with your veterinarian, written by a vet herself. Just as the book above can be extended to our dog’s health, I’d say this book could also be expanded to our relationships with our physicians. This book is short, sweet and full of useful information.

There’s a Dog in the House by Nancy Chwiecko and Amy Fernandez. “A practical guide for creating today’s dog friendly home,” this has got to be the only book out there that looks at your home from your dog’s perspective, advises on dog-proof but attractive furniture, has a chapter on helping dogs with special needs and how to repair the wall that your dog with SA chewed through.

I also just finished Therapy Dogs Today, which I read as part of my preparation for the seminar I’m doing in Naples on January 12 on AAA and AAT. By Kris Butler, this is by far the best book I’ve read on the subject, far superior to anything else I’ve seen. What I like about is especially is her focus on the patient’s and the dog’s needs, (owner/handler–your job is to present your dog and get out of the way) and her understanding that real ‘therapy’ can only occur if a true relationship has been formed between the dog and the receiver. She also emphasizes the importance of observing your dog carefully for signs of stress or discomfort, a common problem I’m sorry to say that I’ve seen often in my experience. If you are interested in ever doing this work with your dog, this is a great book to get.

What are you reading? I always love to hear . . .

MEANWHILE, back on the farm:

Great news about Willie. I’ve put him back on a strict diet w/ no chicken or lamb, increased his greens, got him acupuncture, increased his mental exercise, carefully managed Sushi in a way relaxing to us all and put his hobbles back on when we are out or he is meeting unfamiliar men. I speculated that the hobbles acted almost like an anxiety wrap or thunder shirt, and that taking them off (as I have in the last few weeks) when he was free and off leash was at least one factor in his regression. Think of prisoner let out of jail with not enough time to adapt to freedom. It’s only been a week since I made all those changes, but he’s met several guys (all dog savvy and carefully coached), and Willie has showed no signs of fear or anxiety. He ran right up to all the guys like they were his best friends. Yeah!

The first guys Willie met were all off the farm, then the next ones met him outside the house first before coming inside. Tonight a dog savvy friend (yeah Justin!) is coming over. They met on Monday first outside, but this time I’m going to have him meet Willie inside the house (where Willie was first shocked by the presence of a guy several weeks ago.). It will also be at night, and most fearful dogs are more easily frightened at night than during the daytime. So I’ll go slowly and carefully. I’ll keep you posted. It’s very early in the process, so I’d never say that we are “done,” but I am encouraged at how things are going. I should add that, with dogs like Willie, one is never really ‘done.’ They slide out of balance so easily that one has to always be on the look out for regressions. If you want to read more about my speculations about what’s going on, go back to the earlier post and read my comments.

It continues to be warm and gloriously sunny, although snow is predicted for tonight. What a change that will be! Poor Tootsie is going to have to wear her coat when we go out again. Willie will love the cold weather; he doesn’t seem phased until it’s below 10 F, and it doesn’t look like we’ll get anywhere near that. We’ll have a lovely New Year’s dinner with friends at the farm, and then it’s all about getting ready for the seminars I’m doing in Orlando and Naples.

Here’s Tootsie, showing off her hair extensions (We are developing a story about a poor 5 year old beauty contestant, whose mother bought her hair extensions and elaborate costumes, but was unable to cover up her Andy Rooney eyebrows. Thus, her career was doomed from the start — judges being unlikely to award blue ribbons to little girls who look pissed off all the time.) (She’s not. Tootsie, that is. She just needs a stylist who does eyebrows.)

Or, alternative title: Adventures in the Willie Wonka Fear Factory. If you’re cocking your head in confusion, this is about Willie’s recent (and relatively new) fear of men. To review briefly: As a puppy he was pathologically afraid of other dogs, exceptionally sound sensitive and, in some contexts, quick to anger. But he adored people, loved everyone. As an adolescent, like many dogs, he developed new fears, and became cautious around unfamiliar men, but it was easily handled by having guys throw balls for him. I always knew I’d need to manage it and that I could never completely close the book on his fears, but it was easily handled and he usually appeared to be thrilled to meet unfamiliar men after about 4-5 months of counter conditioning.

And then, three weeks or so ago, he barked in terror at a male visitor. He was so fearful he urinated on the spot (the spot being the living room rug–no worries there, it is ancient and god knows how many microscopic particles live within in it, but I mention it just to let you know he saw the visitor, barked in terror and peed his pants where he stood.) A week later he avoided another male visitor, a guy he’s met multiple times and always been friendly around. His fear was overwhelmingly obvious–no barking, but avoidance, tail tucked, head down, eyes round, commissure retracted, weight backward, etc etc.). We had our friend toss treats and that helped, but he never completely settled into what I’d call comfort.

Two questions arise when a behavioral problem you thought was handled pops up again like a moldy piece of toast: 1) What on earth caused the regression?, and most importantly, 2) Now what? I write this out in hopes it will help others follow along if/when their reactive dog slips backwards a few steps. Of course, all cases are different, but it often helps to follow a treatment plan as a way of storing potential tools in your tool box…

Skipping ahead to #2, “Now what?” has already started: Willie has so far had treats thrown by 3 unfamiliar men. So far, all sessions have gone well. All sessions have also been out of the house, and Willie appeared much more relaxed around the guys than he did inside the farm house. Here’s what’s good about that: First, it’s always good to start classical conditioning exercises (CC) at the lowest level of intensity. If and why Willie is worse at the house is an interesting question, but my first sessions of CC taught me that 1) new-guy-at-home is scarier than new-guy-not-at-home; potentially important information, and 2) outside is where we should start because it’s the lowest intensity trigger for him.

After Christmas I’ve arranged for several male friends to come by. We’ll start with Willie meeting them outside, first far away, then closer. Then I’ll have them come inside with food or toy in hand. If that goes well, I’ll ask the next guys to come inside the house before meeting Willie outside. They’ll be asked (okay, told) to avoid approaching Willie, but to toss treas or toys for him. One of my challenges is that Willie’s best CC’er is to chase after a thrown toy. I can’t let him do that yet with his shoulder, so I’m asking guys to toss the toy directly to Willie so that he can catch it in his mouth.

I’ve made other changes too, but to explain those I need to go back to the question of what the heck caused this in the first place. Whenever you have a problem like this, it’s smart to sit down and write out all the possible causes you can think of. You may never know the answer, but it can help create a comprehensive treatment plan. Here’s my list, along with some thoughts about the potential of each to have affected Willie:

1. Isolation after injury and surgery. Seems reasonable, but since the injury was in Feb and the surgery in May, you’d think it would have shown up a bit sooner. He saw almost no visitors for about 3 months after surgery, but after that we did start having people come to the house and he seemed fine. The first sign of trouble was actually at PT about 3 weeks ago, when he barked, for the first time, at seeing someone out the window in the treatment room door. Both Courtney and I were surprised, because he’d never done that before, and he’d been there twice a week since late June. I would have thought this would have shown up at least by fall if that was the primary issue BUT I’d still rate it high on the scale of probable causes.

Implications: Set up more CC sessions with guys I trust to not overwhelm Willie, following the protocol in The Cautious Canine. We have some CC scheduled for next week, with dog savvy guys who actually will pay attention to directions and CC rather than scare Willie. It’s a bit challenging, because the best CC for Willie is a thrown toy, and I can’t do that yet with his shoulder. We’ll use treats and I’ll use Watch and Tug, plus guys tossing treats and toys. I’ll keep you posted.

2. Effects of anesthetic. I’ve seen several dogs in my practice who did indeed change after surgery (also noted by a thoughtful comment from JH in the comment section) and have often wondered about the effects of anesthetic on certain physiologically sensitive dogs. This is possible, but again, it seem less likely because the problem showed up relatively recently. The dogs in my practice became hyper-reactive early on after surgery.

Implications: Doubtful it’s a cause, but never hurts to think about a dog’s internal physiology. He had another acupuncture session last night, this time for calming and soothing. We discussed potentially using laser acupuncture versus needles, given how sensitive and reactive Willie is.

3. Effects of surgery itself. Not sure what to say about this, but given what a huge assault a major surgery is on the body, it has to be considered. However, again, the regression seems so far after the fact that it seems unlikely.

Implications: Same as above.

4. Presence of Tootsie. Tootsie had been at the farm for about two months before the first signs of trouble appeared. As I’ve written, Willie was clearly not comfortable around her for the first few days, and they still (still!) work hard to ignore each other, but he seems to have adapted to her as the new normal. He still gets lots of attention from me, and has learned that she’ll never challenge him for anything, although she’ll try to squeeze in when he’s getting petted. I suspect he’s learned that although he’d rather not have to compete, life goes on even with a pushy, tiny little princess in the house. I don’t think just her presence is a factor; just guessing here, but I’m bet some serious money on it.

Implications: Tootsie is here to stay, so I’ll go back to CCg him with Tootsie’s name (I did that for about 3 weeks, “Where Tootsie?”).

5. Tootsie’s barking. This one has a higher probability in my mind of having an effect on Willie’s emotional circuits. Tootsie came as a barker–she barked in the morning to get let up on the bed, she barked for her dinner, etc etc etc.  We’ve made great progress, none of the above happens anymore BUT I still can’t leave her either in her crate or loose in the house if I leave it without her barking. I’ve done lots of management around this, but about a month ago I got lazy and would leave her and Willie in the house if I had to run outside and do something quickly in the yard or barn. She’d stand at the window and bark like some crazed, operatic mouse, and I think listening to it was hell on earth for sound sensitive Willie. It didn’t happen very often, but I am sure it wasn’t helping anything. I also had to ask myself if she barks in her crate when I’m gone. I’ve snuck around quite a few times, creeping back to the house and every time she appears to be sound asleep and quiet, so I doubt this is the problem. I’ll keep my eyes (and ears) on it though.

Implications: I never leave him anymore in a situation in which Tootsie will bark while he’s beside her, and I’m working hard on teaching Tootsie to not bark in a crate or if left alone in the house when I leave for a few minutes. I’ve learned I can toss a handful of kibble on the carpet, leave the house with Willie and return to find Tootsie sleeping in her bed in the living room. “Quiet in the crate” when I’m elsewhere in the house is going to take more time, but I’m working on it and carefully managing it at all other times.

6. Change in diet, addition of chicken and lamb. About a month ago I found myself with lots of chicken and lamb scraps. I’ve avoided feeding those protein sources to Willie because of Chinese Medicine’s suggestion that they are “hot” foods and not good for reactive dogs like Willie. But all was going so well, and it pains me to throw food away, so I started giving Willie some of each for a period of about a week. I have no idea whatsoever if this was causal, but it’s easy to change, so I did.

Implications: Easy — Willie is back on beef, beef liver, fish, duck and pork as protein sources. And he’s getting even more cooked greens than usual (mostly kale and collard greens, some parsley, some celery, spinach, broccoli).

7. Sushi: Sushi as a source of stress for Willie ebbs and flows. I’ve written about it before, about his obsessive desire to herd her and his inability to see her as anything except a small, hoofless livestock representative. We worked through it well years ago, but the combination of less exercise and Sushi being in the house more because of winter has caused the problem to increase. He tends to be on edge when he gets obsessive about Sushi, and I would put this high on the list as one potentially contributing factor.

Implications: This is a tough one, obsessive as it is, as we’ve all discussed in previous blogs. It’s complicated by the fact that my allergies to Sushi continue to worsen, and I feel badly that Sushi can’t cuddle with me like she used to. Right now we are managing things and I’m working hard on keeping Willie occupied with something non-Sushi related. All alternative behaviors (sit, lie down, go in your crate, get a toy) act as secondary reinforcers, so it’s not easily fixed.  I’ll write more on this later, but it’s a big topic and better saved for posts in the future. At the moment it’s being managed relatively well, but it’s on my list for things to make even better in the future.

8. Electro stimulation in physical therapy. Willie had 2 sessions of this right around the time he first reacted to seeing people out the window. Could this possibly have affected his nervous system in a negative way? I suspect it’s doubtful, but the health care professionals I asked say no (3) and yes (1), and I wouldn’t say it’s impossible.

Implications: I have no idea if this had any effect on Willie, but we stopped it just in case. Luckily, he didn’t really need it anymore anyway, his muscles in his shoulder began relaxing again so that he could do his stretching exercises.

9. Acupuncture session right around the time he began regressing. I’m doubtful that this was causal, given how often he’s  had acupuncture, but he had a new practitioner this time, and who knows? I had one acupuncture session in which I was miserable for a month afterward. Anything with the power to do good has the power to do harm.

Implications: His new acupuncturist, Carrie and I discussed this last night. I cautioned her that with Willie, “less is more,” and to use the fewest, thinnest needles she could. We also discussed laser acupuncture next time as I mentioned above. I’ll probably put him back on either Shen Calmer or some kind of homeopathic remedy for fear and anxiety, but I want to spend some more time thinking about what would be best for him.

I’ve written all this out in hopes the structure of 1) thinking about causes of a regression and 2) designing a treatment plan around it, is helpful to anyone else out there whose dog has gone backward a bit. I think it would be extremely helpful to other readers if you wanted to share your own program for if/when this has happened to you and one of your dogs. Needless to say, I could write about so many aspects of Willie’s behavior and treatment that this blog would turn into a book. I’ll stop here, and enjoy letting others add their own methods.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm:

Here’s Willie (or rather, his nose), in the middle of an acupuncture session with his new acupuncturist, Carrie Donahue, DVM. He’s not a fan of the needles, but Carrie is extremely gentle and patient, and Willie sits politely for her as best he can. You’re just seeing his nose because it was dark outside and I couldn’t get a good picture of him looking at the camera without eye flash, so the heck with it, I just focused on his nose. “Do what you can”… a good perspective any time, including with photographs, and treatment plans for that matter…

We woke up this morning to another surprise snow. It won’t last long, and it’s only a little over an inch, but still, it was gorgeous when Willie and I went up the hill (too wet and cold for a hill walk for Tootsie).

I thought the image below would be a lovely way for Willie and I, and all at Redstart Farm, to wish you and yours some peace, warmth and love this holiday season. It comes with my gratitude for the community that has grown up around this blog. Thank you all for joining me in an inquiry about our miraculous relationship with dogs. Body wags to you all.

No, seriously. And so do you. No kidding. I’m so interested this, a relatively new discovery about what’s called the Enteric Nervous System, that I wanted to write about it today. I’ll get back to emotions in dogs soon, but I’m in the Oh Wow phase of this information, and wanted to share it. (Granted, this is not new information to the researchers who have been studying what’s called the ENS for decades, but the information does seem to be leaking out slowly. No pun on ‘leaky gut syndrome’ intended…)

Here’s the deal, and here’s how it relates to our dogs and their behavior. It turns out that there is a vast network of neurons–that’s right–neurons–in your intestines. 100 million of them. Of course, your brain has 100 BILLION, but still, that’s impressive.  Neurons were supposed to be nerve cells that only existed in the Central Nervous System (CNS), the brain and the spinal cord. But it turns out that there is a network of neurons in the gut designed to integrate the outside world with the inside of a mammal. As you remember from Biology 101, every mammal is designed like a doughnut, with surfaces both external and internal that are in contact with the “outside” world. Your skin and respiratory passages interact with the external world on the outside of your body, and the inside tissues of your stomach and intestines interact with things from the external world on the inside of your body.

It appears that the ENS is actually the origin of coordinated nervous activity. It links directly to the emotional aspects of your CNS, and is believed to actually be the precursor of it. Thus, your gut and your emotions are indeed linked directly together, as a way of helping the body make decisions about its behavior. All this relates to our lives and the lives of our dogs in two ways. First, “comfort food” really is comforting. Your ENS communicates directly with the emotional centers in your brain, and certain types of food really do make people feel less stressed and more calm. Studies show that high fat, energy rich foods reduce stress in lab mice, and that people feel soothed by mac and cheese even if they don’t know what they are eating and it is placed into their stomach via stomach tube. Bottom line: What mammals eat directly effects their emotions. Thus, perhaps some of us are not so crazy to feed our problem dogs selectively?

Here’s the big question related to this that I have for blog readers, which relates to the large number of dogs I’ve worked with who had both gut and emotional problems. How many of you have seen dogs who have digestion problems who also have behavior problems related to emotional control (especially fear). Willie is the perfect example: He came as a young pup with projectile diarrhea, a pathological fear of other dogs and a dysfunctionally high level of  sound sensitivity. I can’t tell you how many dogs I’ve seen as clients who had both problems, and whose treatment ended up effecting both systems.

One of the treatments for Willie was to put him on probiotics, and the article that got me thinking about this topic (Psychology Today Dec 2011) relates research that has found that probiotics reduce anxiety in some types of lab mice.  They do specify however, that it might be specific types of lactobacillus that were effective, so we don’t know yet that generic probiotics are always useful. I can say that I suspect they helped Willie, not just with his gut but with his fears, but that’s just speculation.

What about you? Have you seen a link between dogs with emotional problems and dogs with intestinal challenges? Do you have a dog that fits that description? If so, what have you done? For Willie, I used probiotics and switched him to what are considered to be cooling foods in Chinese Medicine. Of course, one obvious problem for some dogs are food allergies, which also have to be considered (but did not seem to be the case with Willie.) I’d love to hear your feedback on all this. I’d write more myself, but I have to go eat some mac and cheese.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Cold but sunny, such a joy! No snow, which is unusual but not rare. In 2008 we had 16+ inches by now, in another year just a few. But no white winter for us so far, and going to be cold cold cold Friday night (high of 6). I wish we had snow to protect the plants, but that’s just the way it goes. In the interim, I’m loving the sun.

Good news with Willie boy: After a set back last weekend (limping pretty badly after he got up), I decided to drop all his exercises as an experiment to see how he’d do. He’s doing great! I think I’ve figured out which exercises cause him pain and will talk about it today with Courtney at UW Phys Therapy. Even with no limp, he doesn’t use his left leg normally, he hikes up his shoulder too high, but that mechanical issue doesn’t seem to cause him any pain as best I can tell. So this morning he got to play free with his old, beat up plastic disc. I don’t throw anything for him, may never again, but still, he was sooooo happy. Me too!

Tootsie is doing great on her recalls. I’d say 90%, which I think is great for a Cav after less than 3 months. After a number of mouth-open, shiny-eyed recalls this morning, I ran back into the house for the camera to take a picture of her with her ears flying as she runs to me. I got the ears flapping, but such a serious look on her face!.

Well, it seems appropriate now to talk about disgust after a weekend of gluttony. (But what fun cooking paprika chicken and pot roast and roasted brussels sprouts and home made bread and pumpkin and cherry/raspberry/rhubarb pie. Not to mention eating all the turkey that others cooked and I ate up as if I was starving.)

It’s been interesting reading about whether dogs people believe that dogs can experience disgust. Recall that 66.2 % of seminar participants said yes, and 78.3% of blog readers who responded said yes (this may have changed as later responses came in, but not significantly). (The Morris research listed only 34% of people responding yes, but a blog reader commented wisely that the question wasn’t “Can your dog…” but “Have you observed your dog experiencing disgust.”)

But here’s the deal. Disgust is perhaps the most basic of all emotions. Disgust, or “an aversion to something offensive,” is seen in all mammals, most often in response to a smell or taste that is aversive for some reason. Our expressions of disgust are similar across species, as Darwin noted in The Expressions of the Emotions in Man and Animals. Here’s is a more current illustration of that from Youtube:

Disgust is registered primarily in the Anterior Insula of the brain, an area that is active both when one feels disgusted and when one views a disgusted expression on the face of another. Because of its close association with the sense of smell, disgust has been postulated to be the “first emotion,” designed to prevent the ingestion of dangerous substances. However, I was surprised to find very little about disgust in Panskepp’s classic book on emotions in animals, Affective Neuroscience. In spite of that, I know of no biologist who argues that other mammals don’t experience disgust on a basic level.

Of course, what is perceived as disgusting is both species specific (the stink of fox poop not being a human favorite) and culturally transmitted. Not surprisingly, this  is especially true of food: for example, some cultures find big, fat juicy insects and their larvae highly palatable and others, not so much. There’s an interesting article in Time Online about the research of Andrea Morales and Gavan Fitzsimons who found that just being next to something perceived as disgusting made an item less attractive (ie, don’t try to sell cookies next to Kitty Litter at the supermarket.)

That brings to mind a seminar I did in Canada in which the host hotel thought it would be a hoot to serve the chocolate pudding desert in the shape of dog feces. Seriously. It looked exactly like poop sitting on a white plate. They were actually surprised that no one ate it, but not as surprised as we were that they did it in the first place. We all laughed, and then looked at each other with somewhat stunned expressions on our faces, and pushed the plate away.

It also reminds me of John Rogerson’s technique of inhibiting dog-dog aggression by throwing a bag of dog feces into the face of the offending dog. I’ve never done it, but I’ll bet it would absolutely get a dog’s attention. Of course, some dogs eat feces, but I doubt they’d enjoy poop-in-the-face. Personally I’d rather not use it as a training technique (pretty negative for the person too), but I have thought it would be a great last ditch tool if you were walking down the street with a bag of poop in your hand and a dog charging at your reactive dog.

This all gets me thinking about the use of ‘disgust’ in behavior modification. You all know I’m a positive trainer, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t suggest someone use something aversive to prevent some behavior problems if the solution is humane. I’m thinking about Bitter Apple for example: I just sprayed a plant with it to prevent Tootsie from chewing on the leaves.  But what about an aversive scent versus taste? Any use for that? I’ve seen commercial products that are supposed to keep dogs out of plants, etc, but frankly I’ve never seen them work very well. You?

Here’s another great example of the expression of disgust, by the way, sent in by a reader from Europe of her Pap at a show after being forced to be in cold, wet grass and then touched by a judge with cold, wet hands. Thank you Ute for sending these photos, they are great!

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Willie’s shoulder is as good as it’s been since the injury last February. He is allowed to run around outside for brief periods with no hobbles and longer ones with the hobbles. Great news is that my adrenals are now getting used to seeing him running around, so I don’t suffer from cortisol toxicity every time I see him run anymore! He is not a fan of the treadmill now, he came out of it yesterday and sniffed the floor of the room for a full three minutes before acknowledging me or Courtney. But it’s helping him, so I sympathized, gave him lots of cuddles when he did come over and then told him to suck it up.

Tootsie continues to make tremendous strides. I am so proud of her. Her recall is coming along beautifully, and I can now take her up into the pasture and keep her from hysterically and desperately eating as much sheep poop as it is possible to cram into her mouth. She gets lots of more appropriate treats and is actually spend time sniffing around the grass, apparently interested in something besides gobbling up sheep poop as if she was starving to death. And for one brief magical moment, Willie and Tootsie actually sniffed each other at the same time a few days ago. Will wonders never cease?

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: