THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

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:

One of the most enjoyable parts of doing seminars around the world is talking to people from a variety of countries about their countries’ and culture’s attitude  and regulations regarding dogs. A group of us got to talking in Edinburgh about the dog-related laws of their own countries, and what a range of regulations we found. In Sweden dogs are allowed off leash in many areas, but must be “under control.” (Very sensible!) I was told when I was in Sweden that keeping a dog in a crate was illegal–any Swedes want to confirm or deny? Sweden has very strict animal welfare laws that also apply to domestic pets. For example, all indoor animals must be able to see out a “sunny window.” This is especially interesting to me, given that I’ve advised many a client to keep their dogs AWAY from windows when they leave the house because the activity outside often overstimulates and/or frustrates them. I’d never leave Willie loose in the front room with big windows facing the driveway; when I tried it earlier he was a stressed out wreck when I came home.

Sweden has no country-wide breed related bans, but lots of European countries do. Several countries ban “Pit Bulls,” but as best I can tell no one over there knows who they are either. In the UK I was told the “breed” designation is based purely on looks, and any dog who is reported to look like a pit has to be evaluated. In Germany, some breeds (from Akbash to Staffies to Dogos) must be muzzled in public, unless they have been evaluated for safety. One of the Edinburgh participants was from Poland and she reported that all dogs over medium size must be muzzled in public. She also reported that the law wasn’t enforced and most people ignored it.

Regulations aside, in general my experience has been that Europe and the UK are much more dog friendly than the US. We ended our trip in southern England, and there were dogs, off leash, in all the parks in London. (Which has more parks than one could ever imagine! Gorgeous!) We saw dogs all over the UK, many off leash and many on leash, some in pubs and buses, both of which would never be allowed in the US. Sigh.

What about where you live? There are 16,000 readers of this blog (yeah!) and they live all over, from Alaska to Afghanistan. I’d love to hear from you, and I expect our colleagues around the world would too. How “dog friendly” is your community? What kinds of regulations are there restricting their behavior? What kinds of welfare-related laws are there? (Our animal welfare laws are insufficient here in the US, to say the least. If they were better we wouldn’t have puppy mills…..). What would you like changed?

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: I spent most of Sunday NOT cleaning the house (very much needed) or weeding the garden (also needed) but rather collecting wild apples with friend Harriet and Jim, washing and then cooking them up into what I call Apple Butter Sauce. Here’s what them process looks like:

Here are some of the apples we picked. Wild apples vary tremendously in size, shape, color and taste. We picked the ones we liked best, about the equivalent of 4 big supermarket bags worth (sorry, I can’t think in bushels.) I don’t worry about the small blemishes on the skin, they won’t hurt you and they come off anyway in a later stage.

After you wash the apples, cut out any bad parts, cut them into quarters, put them in a large pot and simmer them for about 20 minutes until they are soft.

Once the apples are soft, drain them and put them through a Foley Food Mill. I’d never heard of one until my friend loaned me one, and what a difference they make! You just cook the apples and then turn the crank. The skins and seeds are retained in the top and the soft cooked apple comes out the bottom.

This is what it looks like after it’s been through the mill… add a little sweetener and it’s great as it is. But I go one step further and turn it into Apple Butter (Sauce… it’s still a bit soft once it’s done.) I add tons of cinnamon and allspice and cook it at 325 for hours. Hours. Really. Like 6 of them. Stir every hour or so, and once it’s about half the size it was it’s ready to be put into jars as Apple Butter Sauce. By that time it’s much darker in color and thick and sweet and spicy and yummy yummy yummy. It’s fantastic on toast and even better with a meat like pork if you do eat meat. Definitely one of my favorite parts of autumn!

The sheep love it too, cuz they get all the left overs. Yummy all around. Yeah nature, that’s all I can say.

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

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

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

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

Hardest thing I’ve ever done (voluntarily!), and the most rewarding. Here’s just a few photos from our adventures on the Milford Track, South Island, New Zealand.

Our group had a total of 15 people, only 6 of us from the US, all good and true friends. Here we are on Day 1, after a 2.5 hour bus ride, an hour long boat ride and a short mile hike to the first lodge: Matt, Becket, Jim, me, Kelly and Meg. After the photo we went on a 2 hour hike with a great guide to learn about the flora and fauna. It was fascinating (and our only walk without backpacks, what a joy!)

We walked 10 miles the next day, Day 2. They call it the “Easy Day.” We called it stunningly beautiful, and not always such easy walking, up and down hills, over some very tricky rocky areas.

Day 3: When they call it the hard day, you’d better believe them. Follow this valley back as far as your eye can see, and you still won’t be able to see where we started on Day 2. On Day 3 we only went 9 miles, but 5 of them were up up up, the last 2 miles up were, well, ridiculous. And then we were on top of the world, with perfect weather and a rare 360 degree view of mountain peaks all around us. One of our guides had been up 6 times this season and had never been able to see the views, it always being clouded over. The 4 miles down were tough–steep downhill on rocky, difficult terrain.

Day 4 is called the “Long Day” and I’m not sure 13 miles has ever seemed so long. The track was easy in some spots, but rocky and difficult in others. Most of us felt like our feet had been beaten by baseball bats by the time we made it to the end. But oh oh oh the forest is lovely; primeval ferns and lichens and fern trees and moss and flute-like bird song and it seemed impossible that a dinosaur wouldn’t be behind the next tree munching on vegetation. And the waterfalls? One after the other, one more beautiful than the next.

On Day 5 you wake up in Milford Sound, soak in the views, feel overwhelmed with gratitude at how lucky you are to be in such a gorgeous place with such wonderful people. Then a boat ride around the sound and a 4.5 hour bus ride back to Queenstown. Then hamburgers as big as your head from Fergberger’s, a couple of glasses of wine and then…. bed! Oh boy.  Here’s Milford Sound, from the window of our hotel room, no kidding:

More later –right now bed is calling. But I can’t end without thanks to all at Ultimate Hikes, including our guides Megan, Amy and Masako for doing such an amazing job creating this experience, and being so good to the land while doing it. And to a truly amazing bunch of friends–Matt, Kelly, Meg, Becket, and especially Jim, who made all the difference in the world. I love you all.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Lambs are doing well, although Truffle’s twins are being hand fed by my wonderful sitters (yeah Danielle and Mike!). As I suspected, Truffle’s udder is not working well, but she is giving some milk, and with all the great care they are getting they’re doing great. Willie is good, sounds like he is in love with his two new Cavalier visitors. Sounds like it is cold there though, 15 F, a far cry from spring here!

A reader asked if I’d go through what I do to prepare for a trip when I can’t take my dogs along. I thought it was a good question for all of us, and a lead in to what could be a fruitful discussion. After all, leaving one’s dog(s) is hard, and the only way I can do it myself without being a wreck is to have a system in which I feel like I’ve covered as many bases as I can. Here are some of my tips, I’d love to hear yours:

1. Put a big-lettered note by the phone that says YOU ARE HERE and give the address and phone number of your home. House sitters rarely can spit out your address in a crisis, and that’s when they need it the most.

2. Also by the phone, leave EMERGENCY phone numbers for your usual vet (who you’ve called to approve any charges in advance) and if need be, an Emergency Vet Clinic that you trust. My experience with Emergency clinics has been mixed, so do due diligence before you leave a number. I also leave the ASPCA’s Animal Poison Hotline Number, which is 888 426-4435.

3. Leave TWO copies of a list of all contact numbers: your cell, where you’re staying and a full  itinerary, close neighbors to call in an emergency, plumbers, electricians, heating cooling service. I tell the sitter to put one copy in her car–if she gets stranded away from the house, (snow? accident?) she needs the phone number of neighbors to call to help with the animals.

4. Leave a copy of your will, being sure it specifies what is to happen to your animals. I have a friend who has agreed to take Willie, and a friend who has promised to find a home for Sushi. (Come to think of it, I haven’t made arrangements for the sheep. Better take care of that before I go!) If you don’t have a formal will (you should, honest), download a simple one from the internet and get it signed by 2 witnesses. Keep it simple, and say where your pets should go. I designate a considerable sum of money for that animal’s care. I freaked out one house sitter by leaving an envelope labeled “In the Even of My Death” under the sitting instructions, so now I’ll leave it in an easily accessible but less intimidating place. None of us want to think about this happening, but I feel much better knowing that I wouldn’t take my last breath heartsick over not knowing what would happen to Willie and Sushi.

5. If the sitter isn’t there when you leave, have her call and leave a message at your destination right away when she arrives. (I’m going to use a generic ‘she’ just to save space. Apologies to all male house sitters.) I never can relax until I know that the sitter is at the house, and always breath a huge sigh of relief when we connect. Ideally, the sitter is there when I leave the house, but that just can’t always happen. The sitter for this trip is in vet school, and will be in classes when we leave for the airport.  She’ll call my cell phone the instant she gets to the house, and I’ll finally feel like I’m “on the trip” once we talk. I don’t make this suggestion lightly: I have friends who had a sitter who never showed up, and yes, the dogs all died, and yes, it was as horrible as our worst nightmare could possibly be. I’m amazed at the number of people I’ve talked to who don’t even call the house to check in with the sitter, or do so 4 or 5 days after they left. I also strongly advise calling often if you have a new sitter. I once had a sitter who never answered the phone at the farm, but always was on her cell phone “just leaving” or “just arriving” including one night at  one in the morning. When I got back, there was no garbage… nothing, not a piece of paper, after a 10 day trip, to suggest that she had stayed the night. Hummm. Same thing happened the next time, and then, well, there wasn’t a next time.

Also, arrange to call your sitter when  you are back at the house if she will have already left. What if your plane is delayed? What if you were in a car accident on the way home from the airport? All my sitters are “on call” if for some reason they don’t hear from me. They have a list of my flights, both in and out, and know when I should be returning. If they don’t hear from me by X hour, they’ll drive back to the farm or call a neighbor.

6. Less is not more. I leave incredibly detailed notes, including not just what everyone eats and when and where, but also a long “diary” of a “day in the life.” I describe our daily routine, including that Willie and I spoon every night before we go upstairs and that’s one of his (and my) favorite times. I write out a description of each animal, their behavioral quirks, health issues, things to watch for, things I’m working on, what they “know,” what they like and don’t like, what they are allowed to do and not allowed to do. It might seem a bit compulsive and frankly it takes me forever, but I’ve never heard a sitter complain about too much information. On the other hand, I’ve heard LOTS of complaints about too little.

7. If necessary, desensitize your animals to suitcases. If your pets get anxious when they see you preparing to leave, try leaving suitcases out when you’re not going anywhere, going through your ‘leaving’ routine without actually going anywhere. Pack up, and then go watch TV. You can also sneak the suitcase into the car when you actually go away, but if you travel a lot, your dog or cat will react long before you are ready to actually are ready to leave. If  your dog or cat really does have Separation Anxiety, get a copy of I’ll Be Home Soon and go through the steps, adapting it for packing and for travel.

8. And then, once you leave the house . . . give it up. I don’t enjoy writing the notes, making the preparations, because I worry I’ll forget something and end up causing trouble. And I hate driving away. Like a dog with separation anxiety, I practically start to shake, pace, and sweat through my paws, although I do my best to remain cheerful as I’m leaving. I am happy to report I have never been known to drool, but my eyes can get pretty wet as the car pulls away from the house and the farm disappears behind a forest of oak and hickory trees. And then, finally, once I’m on the plane it’s better. Once I’ve talked to the sitter it’s much better. By the next day I’m okay, I am where I am, secure in the knowledge that I’ve done everything I can to make life good for my animals, and with gratitude for the wonderful person with whom I’ve trusted my life, my loves, my precious animals who will be there, eyes catching the light, bodies wagging from the shoulders back, tongues lapping all over me, to welcome me home.

I’d love to hear what you do before you leave home without your pets… any advice from your own experience?

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Trip preparations are in full swing. Every time I cross something off the list, I add two more things. Before I go I have to finish my next Bark column, finish a chapter for a new book about training best practices for American Humane Association, finish a detailed outline of the booklet that Karen London and I are working on for adopting adult dogs, finish last tweaks of my NZ seminars, arrange for demo dogs, and oh yes, run a business. And, of course, the farm is hopping, with the lambs going to market each week and buyers being notified, preparations for winter continuing and squeezing in time to work sheep and prepare to walk 10-13 miles a day with a back pack.  Wheeeee!

Here’s a sunrise from last week, and what we call the “Slasher Movie Sheep” with Rosebud painted red from having been bred by Redford. You can see Redford’s red chest underneath fat, piggy Brittany, who started the habit of standing on the feeder to get her hay (thus negating one of its purposes, to keep hay off the wool of other sheep) and now Rosebud is doing it too. Sigh.

Just a quick post to let locals know that I’ll be giving a talk on December 1st at the Black Earth Library on my animal-behavior focused trips to Africa. I’ll combine the best of my and Jim’s photographs and talk about the adventures of safaris in Kenya, Botswana, Tanzania and Rwanda. We’ll talk about radio-collaring “Jones,” the breeding male of an African Wild Dog pack, sitting with gorillas in Rwanda and the impact of the current drought on the people and animals of East Africa. If you’re in the area, I hope you can come!

7 pm, December 1st, 2009

Black Earth Library, 1210 Mills Street, Black Earth, WI 608 767-2563, Ext. 3

If you can make it, come up and say hi.

Here’s my favorite photograph from the trip we took in August, on the Masai Mara.

Greetings from Oregon. I just finished up with two talks at UC-Davis and a day long seminar in Corvallis, Oregon, sponsored jointly by OSU and Wonder Dogs. The participants and hosts could not have been more delightful, and I thank everyone for making the trip enjoyable and more than worthwhile.

All three events had a large number of veterinary students attending, and it was such a joy to see them there. So many bright, energetic people… truly is inspiring, and especially good to see so many of them interested in behavior.

One of my talks at UC-Davis, specifically for vet students and veterinarians, was on Canine Aggression. I appreciated the opportunity to speak about such an important topic, and thought I’d convey a summary of one of the points I made, which was what can vets do in their clinics if they don’t have the time or interest in becoming a behaviorist or trainer and treating “aggression” problems directly? (I use the term “aggression” broadly, in the sense that the general public does.)

Here’s some thoughts, not just for vets, but also for anyone to ask themselves about the “behavioral wellness” of their dog. (Behavioral wellness is a term coined by CAABs Suzanne Hetts and Daniel Estep) and it is such a good one I’ve incorporated it into my vocabulary.) Here is what I wish vets would do in their clinics, understanding how limited there time is:

1) Ask questions related to behavior, but make them specific! “Any behavioral problems?” is just as likely to get a “no” from someone whose dog has bitten them as from someone whose dog is an angel. Here are some examples of questions I wish vets or vet techs could ask:

~ “How is house training going?” or better yet, “Are you giving your puppy a treat every time he goes potty outside?”

~ “How is your dog doing with normal handling? Any growls or tooth displays when you clean her paws or examine her mouth?”

~ “Is your pup getting out and about without being overwhelmed by places.. (like a crowded farmer’s market) that are too scary?”

~ “Can you leave your dog alone during the day without any problems? Need any help there?”

~ “Is your dog comfortable with strangers coming into the house? Does he get along well with other dogs, either the others at home or dogs he meets on the street?”

Etc… There is an excellent list of questions on Hetts and Esteps’ website, check it out and mention it to your veterinarian if you get a chance. The biggest challenge here is to be specific: one person might say a dog is just “fine” with visitors, even though he’s hiding under the table and growling. The more specific the question, the better, as in “Any growls, for any reason?”

2) Alert owners to problems that you see in the clinic. A vet friend recently told me about a 4 month old pit cross who stood in the corner, stiff and whale-eyed when she entered, and then bark/charged at a vet tech who came into the room during the exam. The owners thought it was normal behavior, and had no clue that it was a sign of potential serious trouble.

3) Have posters and charts up to help people learn to read their dogs. Dream Dog Productions has a great set of posters that should be in vet clinics along with signs of gum disease. Many owners simply don’t know the signs of fear in a dog, unless the dog is cowering like a cartoon character, and the more we can get the word out, the better.

4) Educate owners about treatment when you can. Most behavioral problems are NOT “dominance” problems, and suggesting those methods can cause more harm than good in many cases. (More on that in subsequent posts!)

5) Have resources easily available. Have books, booklets in the clinic to help with behavioral problems (we have a Beh’l Rx form for vets to use to mark the resources they think would help a client); know who to refer to in the area if you see potential behavioral problems and know what training centers and classes use positive methods that are based on solid science rather than opinion; make contact with Veterinary Behaviorists, CAABs and progressive trainers who have a sterling reputation.

I’d love to hear your thoughts: Any vets, vet techs like to chime in and add what trainers and behaviorists could do to help vet clinics prevent behavioral problems?

Meanwhile, not on the farm (but missing it a lot): Even though I’m not there, here is a photo from last week, when friends, Jim and I went in search of apples. It was a great success, and before I left for the west coast I got two huge batches of apple sauce in the freezer. I’ll turn them into apple/wild plum butter when I get back. We also found a wild grape vine (these are truly wild, a native wild plant in Wisconsin) that was groaning with fruit. I couldn’t pass it up, and ended up with about a 1/2 gallon of grape juice in the freezer. Not sure what I’ll do with, might add it to the carrot bread muffins waiting to be made from the mounds of carrots I have in the frig!

Here’s a bushel basket brimming with apples, and a wonderful old tool for harvesting the apples directly off the tree (cider can’t be made from apples that land on the ground, at least not safely).

Well, Tender at the Bone is admittedly the title of a book about food (if you love food and good writing as much as I do, this is a fantastic book by food critic Ruth Reichl), but I borrowed the phrase to continue our discussion about dental health and chewing on bones. If you haven’t followed it yet, read the comments from my A Fully Functional Tooth? post, they add lots of meat to the conversation (sorry).

A few readers asked for more photos from Africa, so I thought I’d combine topics and send some more pictures of our time with the pack of African Wild Dogs.

Relevant to dental health, here’s a photo of the mouth of “Jones,” the 4 year old breeding male who was darted and radio collared when we were there watching. What I think is interesting is how good some teeth look (keeping in mind the comment made earlier reminding us that white, clean teeth are not necessarily healthy teeth) and how bad the 2 problem teeth are. The bright red area on the lower gum, by the way, was probably caused by either the act of predation that morning or from ingesting part of the kill, and was only temporary.

But, look at the lower canine and upper incisor. Ouch. I’ll have to ask Dr. McNutt how common it is to see a set of teeth like that, but I’d guess it’s not uncommon at all. There is a high rate of injury (and death) in African Wild Dogs, either from lions or from injuries received while taking down prey. What happened to these particular teeth? Who knows… could be from chewing on bones, or from strikes by horns of ungulates?

In case the photo above is a little bit more intimate than you want to get with a AWD, here’s a portrait showing off their huge, gorgeous, cartoon animal ears.

And here’s a photo of the pups just seconds after an adult had walked in and regurgitated for them. It all happened behind the bush, and was over, from start to finish, in about 4-5 seconds, but you can see one of the pups licking his lips, apparently having been one of the lucky ones and getting his share of the food.

Meanwhile, back at the farm: Will is back to chewing on his stuffed Kong in the morning, and I haven’t gone out to find just the right real bone to give to him and Lassie. Admittedly, although I have decided to let them eat carefully selected bones for a short time, I haven’t yet gone looking for them.

It was sweltering hot and humid last night (okay, all is relative: hot for here at this time of year). Mostly it was humid without a breath of fresh air. It’s a bit better today, and tomorrow it will be better still. Can’t wait for the nights to get cool again so I can snuggle under a blanket with Lassie on one side and Willie on the other!

This summary doesn’t begin to address the subject in depth, to do so would require a book, but I hope you’ll find what I’ve written interesting nonetheless. My biggest problem with this was not spending all week on it… the topic is so interesting, and almost every fact led to a question. (Territorial? Well, that’s a highly variable concept. How does it differ between species, say dogs and wolves for example.) You can see the problem here, but one of the great things about science is that it every answer generates new questions. That’s heaven for discovery junkies like me.

AFRICAN WILD DOGS  Lycaon pictus:

Also known as Cape Hunting Dogs or Painted Dogs, these canids are not “dogs” at all (note they are in a different genus than wolves and dogs). Called the wolves of Africa, they are highly social, territorial carnivores who are more dependent on group hunting than any other canid. They specialize in medium sized prey (Impala are their preferred prey) and like Hyenas, tend to rely on running their prey to exhaustion rather than the classic stalk and pounce of some canids and most big cats. (They also, like Hyenas, hunt mostly at night, thus stalking is of less importance under the cover of darkness.) They do NOT run in “relays” as often described, but tend to run in loose groups, well spread out, so that a zig-zagging quarry has a higher chance of running into another pack member when they change direction. AWDs have incredible stamina: they can run 5 km at 30 mph.

I’m not sorry I missed seeing a kill. AWDs have an incredibly high success rate as hunters (about 85%) and usually disembowl and begin consuming their prey before the animal is dead. Granted, it is probably in shock, and well might not be feeling anything at all, but I’ve seen a crocodile consume a Gazelle, and 3 African Bullalo kill another full grown buffalo, and a lion with a freshly killed zebra foal–and that’s enough for me.

Their social system is similar in many ways to that of wolves. There is usually only one breeding pair (but note there are exceptions in wolves, not sure if true in AWDs), along with non-breeding adults who also care for the young and provision the mother and pups. Unlike most social mammals in which the males leave the group and the females stay, related males stay in the pack in this species and older females emigrate if the pack becomes too large. They are completely reliant on being in a group. One study I read said that less than a group of less than 6 or 8 AWDs were incapable of successful reproduction (due no doubt to less predatory success). Their packs can become quite large, sometimes as many as 20 to 40 dogs will live in one pack.

What’s different about AWDs and Wolves is how the breeding pair maintain their rank. Apparently there are very few overt displays of aggression; you see almost none of the facial displays, growls or dominance  related actions that are commonly seen in wolves. AWDs were believed at one point not to have a social hierarchy, but careful study found that wild dogs assert their social status by assuming the same stalking posture that they use when hunting or by simply supplanting (taking the space of) another. You DO see a lot of submissive behavior, from ears-back, toothy-grinned submission displays, food begging & whining. Adults will often regurgitate food to adult pack members who missed out on a kill (which happens often, since the hunting pack is so dispersed and the food is usually consumed within just a few minutes.) (more…)

I’m working on a post about the comparative behavior of wolves, coyotes, African Wild dogs and domestic dogs, but here’s a short digression for the cat lovers.

An adult lioness in the Maasai Mara marks a bush after rising from a nap. You can clearly see the stream of urine in the photo. Aren’t you glad our house cats don’t weigh 260-450 pounds?

A female cheetah marks a tree.

We found this cheetah right after landing in the “Kenyan Serengeti,” the Maasai Mara. After we landed at a tiny airstrip and loaded up in safari vans on our way to our lodging, we ran into a hunting cheetah who was stalking Impala. After a few minutes she made her move, and dashed at the herd. She was too far away for us to take any photographs, but none of us will ever forget watching one Impala leap over five feet high and fifteen feet horizontally over the tall grasses as the cat charged toward the group. The cheetah was not successful, and strolled away (the rolling gait of a cheetah, with their long, absurdly loose bodies, is a beautiful thing to see).

Here she is, scratching the ground after marking (looking almost dog like at that point, if you’ll forgive the comparison).

The downside of seeing her? Cheetahs hunt during the day, unlike most cats, and appear to be affected by tourism. Our van and several others followed her for awhile as she walked across the savannah, and I was relieved when she cut away and disappeared from view. If she hadn’t I would have asked us to leave, it felt like we would have been harassing her if we had continued.

Not far away we came upon 3 males, probably the grown young of our female friend, snoozing as only cats can in the shade under a solitary tree. Overall, the Kenya trip resulted in seeing more cats up close and personal than any of my other trips (lions especially (more photos to come), cheetah, leopard (briefly), servals and some people (not me) even saw an African Wild Cat, the progenitor of our house cats on a night drive in Botswana.

Here’s a lioness greeting one of the pride’s cubs in the golden light of an African morning: