THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

Question: Is there ever enough time to read? Answer: No. I read every night and every morning at a minimum, and if I ever had a genie rise out of a bottle and ask me for one wish, I’d ask for another hour or two of reading time in every day. (And long, pretty legs instead of stumpy ones. And world peace.)

Here are some of the books I’ve been savoring, in hopes of beginning a conversation about other great books just waiting for me to turn the page:

The Possibility Dogs. I wrote about it last week, but couldn’t skip mentioning it again. Here’s the quote I sent to the publisher after reading the review copy: “What an amazing book. Combine love, knowledge and real-life drama with pitch-perfect writing, and you’ll end up with The Possibility Dogs. Simply brilliant!” I like it so much we’re selling it on our website.

What the Dog Knows by Cat Warren. I’ll have to start by asking for your forgiveness, because the book won’t be out until next October (but you can pre-order it). I mention it now because it is so closely related to Susannah Charleson’s Scent of the Missing, in that it is about dogs using their noses (in this case Cat trains Solo, a singleton pup German Shepherd Dog, to become a “cadaver” dog.) Cat is an Associate Professor in English and the writing shows it; it’s the kind of writing that either inspires you or makes you want to throw your hands up and stop writing yourself altogether. It is a fantastic book, combining CSI-like details about the science of finding the remains of deceased people, Cat’s experiences learning to become a handler, and her abiding love (and occasional humorously described frustration) with her amazing dog, Solo. I think that this book is one of the greats, so don’t worry, I’ll write about it again in October when it is released.

Cooked by Michael Pollen. Those of you who know me know that I love food almost as much as I love dogs or Jim, so of course I had to buy Cooked as soon as it came out. The subtitle, A Natural History of Transformation, is an important guide to the book’s content. Not a cookbook, not a discussion about what we eat or where it comes from (as in his other books like The Omnivore’s Dilemma or In Defense of Food), Cooked is about the miraculous transformation that occurs when the skilled use of four classical elements–fire, water, air and earth–change, for example, a simple mix of flour and water into a crusty, air-filled loaf of bread. After reading it, I am inspired to make my own sourdough starter (I make bread a lot, but I use commercial yeast and flour), I appreciate BBQ like never before (that’s saying a lot) and am inspired to make even more slow-cooked stews and pot roasts. As usual, Pollen’s writing is informative, interesting and funny. I laughed out loud so often that Willie began glaring at me when I picked up the book.

Gulp by Mary Roach. Food goes in, food goes out. I didn’t plan to read these books in concert, it just seemed to happen that way. While Cooked is all about the preparation of food, Gulp explains what happens to it once you put it in your mouth. Not for the faint of heart or the squeamish, Roach doesn’t hesitate to get down and dirty about what goes on inside your body after dinner. Subtitled “Adventures on the Alimentary Canal,” Gulp is ridiculously funny (The Washington Post calls her “America’s funniest science writer”) and endlessly fascinating (Elvis probably died of constipation–seriously). However, even I, the woman who attracted a circle of stunned Masai warriors when I squatted down in glee to discover dung beetles in cow poop, had to take a break for awhile once the food traveled into the gut. There’s just so much I can read about poop, so I began to read the end in small doses. Still, I heartily enjoyed it. Mary Roach also wrote Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, which I loved, and Bonk: The Curious Coupling of  Science and Sex. (How have I missed out on reading that? Anyone read it?)

Daring Greatly by Brené Brown. This is a book I want to buy for every single person I have ever cared about. I think it’s brilliant. And amazing. And important. You may have heard about Brown’s TED talk about vulnerability, and the importance of embracing honesty, humility and vulnerability as a strength rather than a weakness. Brown is a PhD, LMSW (social work) professor and writer who has spent her academic life studying vulnerability, courage, and shame. Yes, shame, that emotion that no one wants to think about but is the cornerstone of so much of our suffering. She has a blog that is a wonderful source of inspiration (and other great books). Daring Greatly is an important antidote to a world in which people are lightening quick to criticize anyone who doesn’t fit their standards of perfection, and in which snap judgements are encouraged by social media. And if I may, I might suggest that it is just as relevant in the world of dog training as in any other. Dog trainers and dog lovers can be terribly hard on one another, and I think there’s little profit in that. After I finished this book I started on one of her earlier ones, The Gifts of Imperfection. I’d love to hear if you’ve read her work already (or seen her Ted Talk) and what you thought.

With Me or Without Me by Domenica Ruta. The list of memoirs written by women raised by crazy, abusive, or just downright difficult mothers grows and grows, but this book stands out to me above many of the others. Ruta, a writer with an MFA from the Michener Center for Writers at the University of Texas at Austin, has written a book that is unflinchingly honest and relentlessly engaging. I finished it in two sessions, cursing her at one point for robbing me of a good night’s sleep. Here is one of my favorite quotes about the book: “Freakishly brilliant, brilliantly freakish, this is one of the best memoirs I have ever read” (Gary Shteyngart) and “…hums with jangled energy and bristles with sharp edges.” (Slate) A word of caution however: Ruta does not hold back about her behavior. If you are easily shocked or offended, you might want to pass it up. (And of course, now some of you are especially interested in it, right? Smile.)

Also, I’ve recently read Mary Karr’s The Liar’s Club (1995, another memoir about growing up with, or in spite of, parents who did not read the book on raising children) and The House of Tyneford by Natasha Solomons (historical fiction, 2011). Both excellent.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Summer is well along and the lambs are growing well. We are almost done with bottle feeding, all five bottle babies being over eight weeks old, ruminating and able to turn grass into usable energy. That will give me over an hour a day back, what a gift! We are learning as we go about the ins and outs of a strictly followed controlled grazing regimen, and the learning curve is steep but interesting. If the area we create with electric fence is too large, the sheep still pick and choose what they like best and trample the rest. Sort of like picking out the chocolates from a chocolate chip cookie by throwing away the cookie part. If the area is just right, they eat everything in sight, exactly as we want, but areas that small will only last one or two days and so have to be created several times a week. However, we’ve learned that if the grass is too high, a “right size” area doesn’t work, because they won’t eat the flower or seed stalks, and end up trampling those long stems onto whatever was good food for them. Either way, it is a great deal of work for us, mowing lanes to set the electric fence (it’ll short out if just a few blades of grades rest against one of the wires), setting up the fence, and then moving the sheep back and forth one to two times a day. Willie thought it was great until he injured his hip and went on a “crate rest” regimen. (More on that below.) My reaction is mixed: I like that huffing up our steep hill 2 to 4 times a day means that I can eat a chocolate chip cookie every once in a while without worrying I’ll have to buy new jeans (Okay 2 cookies. Maybe 3. I’m just saying.) Jim is absolutely stalwart about mowing and setting the fence, and has yet to complain about the frequency of it. The sheep don’t like it at all. Sometimes I’ll put them in an area with the equivalent of porridge, and they’ll stand there bawling at me in protest. The “baa’s” of protesting sheep are unmistakable, and truly amusing. (Unless you are tired, and Buttercup, the loudest whiner of the group, won’t stop yelling in your ear while you’re cleaning out the barn. “NO-O-O-O-O,” she’ll say. “I want more Foo-oo-oo-ooo-ood!” The words, “Buttercup, shut up,” have passed my lips on occasion.)

The bad news: Willie’s strained his Iliopsoas muscle. Sigh. He got up last week and held his left hind up for at least 12-15 strides, then put it down but limped badly. The good news is that it is a mild strain, and recovery is expected within four to six weeks.  I’m grateful that it’s not worse, and predictably bummed that it has happened at all. I think he is dealing with it far better than I, but I am working on acceptance and deep breathing and being grateful for all we have. I’ve pulled him from the two trials we had entered and canceled our herding lesson in July. We’re doing special exercises two times a day, he’s on lots of supplements and had acupuncture yesterday, so hopefully this will be behind us soon. Cross your paws. (A related note: I continue to check to be sure I’m not spelling “Iliopsoas” incorrectly. A veterinarian friend of mine said it was her favorite muscle because it sounds like a dinosaur. I agree, and I’m grateful to her, because now every time I say “Iliopsoas” I smile.)

Oh well, more time for me to garden, right? This spring we’ve had lots of water, about 4-6 inches over usual, a far cry from last year’s drought. We’re all getting a little nervous about getting in a hay crop (it being especially hard to get last year), but it is lovely to see the plants get “fed” so well this spring and early summer. Here’s an Iris, a flower I find lovely and ridiculous at the same time:

And the detail of a Tree Peony flower. The colors are so bright it looks fake, but this truly is exactly the colors the camera recorded. Honest, I promise. Wow.

Susannah Charleson, author of Scent of the Missing, has done it again: Given us a page turner that is exquisitely written, and rich with both emotion and information related to working dogs. However, this time the dogs aren’t search and rescue dogs; although in some ways you could suggest that’s exactly what they do. The Possibility Dogs, just released a few days ago, directly relates to last week’s post about Psychiatric Service Dogs, because that’s what it is about: dogs who help people function, and in some cases,  heal. Some of these dogs seem able to search out people in need as if following a scent trail, and “rescue” them by their insightful awareness of what a damaged person needs.

As in Scent of the Missing, The Possibility Dogs entwines incidents from her own life, insights into the struggles and triumphs of others suffering from a range of traumatic experiences, and stories about her own dogs. Starring roles go to a deaf, blind dog named Ollie that Susannah flew across the country to rescue, and a charming, young looker named Jake Piper, a dog who showed up on her doorstep when she was still raw from the loss of two of her beloved dogs. She was in no condition to take on a half-dead, needy pup, but of course, you know the rest of the story. Here is what she writes while at the vet clinic, leaving him there with only a small chance of making it:

“Almost literally fading before my eyes, the puppy is now too weak to sit up. I kneel down beside the metal table, and he lays his  head on my open hand. He is ugly from neglect, patchy fur stretched taut over visible bones, but he is beautiful, nonetheless, all dark eyes and wonky crashed-kite ears.”

“Wonky crashed-kite ears?” This woman can turn a phrase.

Susannah, after years in Search and Rescue, knows as well as any that many wonderful dogs are not suited for work as a service animal. However, her book is a testament that the right genetics and the right environment and training can create a dog who does wonders with the right match. The genetics might be planned, as dogs bred for CCI work, or they might be a random set of chromosomes nestled inside a furry package abandoned in a shelter. What’s important is a dog who truly and deeply cares about people, and a handler who truly and deeply understands the responsibility they have for caring for an individual of another species.

Susannah and I talked recently during a short break in her busy book tour schedule; I thought you would enjoy hearing some of our conversation.

Trisha: I’ve done some book interviews myself, and sometimes I never get to talk about what I think is most important about the book. What would you like to tell us about your new book?

Susannah: Perhaps that the book addresses two sets of needs: dogs who need rescuing, and people who need a dog to help them function and, in some cases, heal. The book emphasizes that there are rescued dogs who can do this work and can do it brilliantly, but that choosing them has to be thoughtful, meticulous and just. In addition, the humans who take on these partnerships have the challenge of addressing their own conditions honestly and specifically, while training and working with a dog while respecting the dog’s needs at the same time. They need to be asking “What am I doing for the dog today?” When successful, I’d argue that part of the healing comes from the person taking that wider point of view, looking at the two of them as a team, always thinking ‘This is what we do to address me, and this is what I will give back to the dog in return.”

Trisha: Applied animal behaviorist and primatologist James Ha, wrote recently suggesting that shelter dogs aren’t good prospects for service dogs. However, your organization, Possibility Dogs, has many examples of rescued dogs being good therapy or service dogs. Any thoughts on that issue?

Susannah: Because Possiblity Dogs (the organization, not the book) works with a variety of dogs, from Assisted Animal Activities to Emotional Support Dogs to Service Dogs, our net is a wide one. I find a lot of hope in shelters, perhaps for one thing because the social network is now so good at getting the word out about dogs quickly. Of course, not all dogs are cut out for the work. One hears that 1/30 dogs might make it as a good service dog, although I’ve also heard 1/1,000. At Possibility Dogs, we have a strong focus on creating partnerships between rescue dogs and people in need, but the needs vary greatly. One dog might be a fabulous therapy dog, but not a service dog because she is party animal who loves everyone and isn’t able to narrow her focus. Some dogs with disabilities themselves can become calm, serene companions to someone with anxieties, although they don’t have to have physical capability to be a service dog. [Note from T: One of Susannah's dogs, and a star in the book, is Ollie, a deaf and blind cartoon of a dog with ridiculous ears, who makes miracles happen around anxious children.]

Trisha: What exactly does Possibility Dogs do?

Susannah: It is a 501.c3 “niche” organization that supports service partnerships of all kinds, particularly those requiring mobility and psychiatric service dogs.  They support these partnership at any stage of the game, which is relatively unique in the field. For example, perhaps someone has had a service dog for 4 years and are now recovered enough to try flying for the first time since their illness. Possibility Dogs will help them understand TSA regulations, negotiate the airport, and use best practices at the gate area. They support the partnership for life, which other organizations that raise and place dogs often can’t. Not long ago a veteran with both psychiatric and physical conditions contacted us. His physical problems were serious, and he was most frightened about what would happen to his service dog when he died. Possibility Dogs is working with him to assure a good home for his dog, so that he can enjoy the remaining time they have together.

Trisha: You begin the book talking about your own experience with trauma, and being diagnosed with PTSD and what is called “critical incident stress.” I’m writing a memoir right now that includes some of my own difficult life experiences and their effect on my life. I find it both painful and liberating to write about them. How was it for you to write about your own trauma and recovery?

Susannah: It was excruciating–writing it down was like reliving it, and I had nightmares while doing it. BUT it was probably beneficial and hugely necessary for my work now with people in need of PSDs. One of the things critical to working with one’s own service dog is taking ownership of your condition. You can’t hide from yourself. I was one of those emergency responders who was ruled by (and in some respects probably still am), “it hurt, get over it, move on.” However, facing the truth of one’s condition is paramount to being a good partner in a service dog team, and so, to a degree, having to write about it made me a better collaborator.

Trisha: I’ve done my share of book tours, and they can be exhausting. I can’t imagine doing it with a dog. What is the hardest part of being on book tour with Jake Piper?

Susannah: No grass in New York City! My dogs are trained not to go on concrete but you can walk for miles in some cities and never find grass! I learned this the hard way on book tour with Scent of the Missing when I took Puzzle on tour. I had an early morning talk show, and had to get up at 3 AM to have time to walk her a million miles to grass, then walk back to the hotel, bathe and blow dry her!  I learned my lesson, and on this tour I asked to be in  hotel no more than 4-5 blocks from grass. So now I’m close to Central Park, but when we got there after 8 hours of travel, the heavens opened and it rained buckets. Just what you want right before making a public appearance! Traveling with a dog has made me appreciate how carefully people with service dogs have to pre-plan their trips, and constantly be an advocate for their dog.

Thanks to Susannah for taking the time to talk. I hope you enjoy the book. Here’s a schedule of her tour, just in case you are in the right city at the right time.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: The good news: I get to eat the Lobster Pasta In Cream Sauce tonight at my favorite, local restaurant. That is because of the bad news: Willie injured his Iliopsoas muscle and is back on leash. That’s a hard place to return to after 14 months of that a few years ago. I am relieved it’s not his cruciate, but don’t know if recovery is weeks or months. I’ll know a lot more next week once we get into UW PT. I also have a DVM, Chinese Medicine/Acupuncturist coming out, so cross your paws. He is already on some adjunctive, “alternate” supplements, perhaps those will help too.  Because of his injury, I’ve been herding the sheep myself the last two mornings–thus the justification for pasta with cream sauce. Yesterday they were easy to move, I suspect they assumed Willie was somewhere in the wings. Today they had figured it out, and I regret only the slightest bit that you can’t watch a video of me working my tail off while herding them into their designated grazing area this morning. Let’s just say the Lady Godiva, bless her gorgeous little lambs, turns out to be the smartest of the bunch, and is faster than I am. But not smarter.

Nellie the barn cat has taken to walking up the hill with us everyday to pasture the flock. Perhaps I can teach her to herd? However she has avoided being in with the sheep around the barn ever since she arrived, but lately that seems to be changing. The cats love being in the barn when I am there, and always run over if they see me walking toward it. Polly sleeps on the hay bales often during the day, so it’s common for Nellie, Willie and I to enter the barn and wake up a sleepy Polly, who does everything but rub her eyes with her paws.

Recently Nellie has begun spending time in the pen with the sheep. The lambs are very curious, and follow her around, sniffing her whenever possible. Katie and I just happened to be taking photos of the bottle lambs feeding when Katie got these shots of two of the lambs investigating Nellie.

And here’s Poor Ralphie (that’s practically become his official name, “Poor Ralphie,”) who was rejected at birth by his mother, and is 100% imprinted onto me. The flock has just left the barn and gone up the hill to graze. Ralphie often ignores all the rest of the sheep, stands by me as if to say “And what are WE going to do today?” In this photo I am taking Ralphie up the hill, where he will eventually leave me and begin to graze beside his brother and sister. Once he’s busy grazing, I can slip down the hill and move on to other things. As bucolic as all this looks, you never know when things will get dramatic. I almost lost Ralphie on Wednesday; the sheep were let loose to graze areas where they usually don’t go (because of Willie’s injury), and Ralphie must have eaten something that none of the others did. Lambs pay careful attention to what their mother’s eat, and Ralphie has no role model, so who knows what he ate or how much of it.  I walked to the barn to give the bottle lambs their second feeding, and Ralphie was bloated up like a Mylar balloon and frothing at the mouth. Those are the symptoms of bloat, and it doesn’t take long for them to die of it. (One website says the “symptoms of bloat are dead sheep.”) I literally ran to the house to get bloat medicine (which breaks up the bubbles of gas that can suffocate the victim) and poured it down Ralphie’s mouth. Whew. In 20 minutes he was ready to drink his milk. Whew again. Poor Ralphie.

xx  xxx

Here’s one of world’s greatest descriptions of a dog: “[Gander looks like] … the canine version of a forgetful old literature professor in a corduroy jacket with patches at the elbows.” I’ve never met Gander, but the photos of him  remind me of a grown-up, bachelor party version of Little Orphan Annie’s dog, Sandy. With muscle and gravitas. Sort of a “Sandy joined the Marine Corps but still plays with marbles” kind of dog. And Sandy is a hero, there’s no doubt about it. Gander is the dog that Freedom Service Dogs placed with a man named Lonnie, who suffered from PTSD and autoimmune issues that can make mobility almost impossible some days. Lonnie sums it up simply: “Gander saved my life.”

Before he got Gander, Lonnie rarely slept and had paralyzing panic attacks several times a day. This is a smart, articulate man, a military veteran who won prestigious awards for his poetry, who spoke around the country and the world at universities, Health Care Conferences and was a full professor on the faculty of two health sciences academies, among many other accomplishments. In other words, a successful professional struck down by a series of events, some of which he described to me as “worse than horrific.” But now that he has Gander, life is different. When Lonnie and Gander return home at night, Gander turns the lights on before Lonnie enters so he is not forced to walk into a dark room. Gander stands between Lonnie and jostling crowds in public places, and will even put his paws on Lonnie’s chest in an environment likely to cause panic attacks. “Time to leave Dude.” Lonnie is smart, and when Gander “talks,” he listens.

Gander (who is up for Dog Hero of the Year for the American Humane Association) is a Psychiatric Service Dog (PSD), a dog specifically selected and trained to assist people with psychiatric challenges (like PTSD) or developmental neuronal disabilities (like autism spectrum disorder). They are distinct from “therapy dogs,” in that they 1) live full-time with the person in need and 2) are trained to respond in specific ways that ameliorate the challenges their owner or charge is facing. Some examples of a PSD’s tasks are interrupting a person with OCD and redirecting him or her, entering a dark a room or house first to assure their owner that there is no danger, waking up  someone with PTSD from a nightmare, and reminding their owners to take their medication.

I was motivated to write about this for several reasons, one being a raft of questions about PSDs after a brief comment here and on Facebook related to grading papers for my UW class on “The Biology and Philosophy of the Use of Psychiatric Service Dogs.” The student’s first paper focused on the biological issues, (broadly defined) and included a description of the dogs, what knowledge we have about their effectiveness and how the job might impact the welfare of the dogs themselves. Here is just some of what the students and I learned, related to the costs and benefits of PSDs.

HOW EFFECTIVE ARE THE DOGS? There is a raft of anecdotal evidence that suggests that in some contexts, the dogs can be life savers. According to the Department of Veterans Affairs Department, [scroll down to "Veterans Affairs" for the pdf on service dogs]  veterans diagnosed with PTSD have reported less hyper-vigilance, better sleep (sometimes being able to sleep at all), an increased sense of security and a decrease in the need for psychotropic medications. However, there are concerns that most of the evidence of effectiveness is “subjective” and anecdotal. Although I’ve been trained as a scientist, or perhaps because of it, I find the concern about a lack of “data” interesting. Given that most of the symptoms of PTSD are subjective themselves (increased fear, vigilance, lack of ability to sleep, intrusive re-enactments etc.), why would we not believe vets when they say the dog is helping them?  We base the effectiveness of pain medication on the reports of people who take it,  because what matters is that the person feels better, not what an MRI tells us about activity in the areas of the brain that mediate the perception of pain.

Certainly we have a great deal of evidence that the presence of a dog increases the level of oxytocin in the body in most people, and that oxytocin can have a profound (and positive) effect on the body and the mind. In an earlier blog about AAA and AAT (Animal Assisted Activities and Animal Assisted Therapy) I cited studies that found even brief visits from dogs decreased the perception of pain after surgery, that petting dogs boosts one’s immune system and makes us feel safer and more secure. (If you are interested in more about AAA and AAT dogs I have a DVD of a 1/2 day seminar on that very topic.)

It’s not much of a stretch to generalize the potential positive effects of the right dog on someone suffering from conditions like PTSD or autism spectrum disorder. However, that doesn’t mean that dogs are good for everyone. Dogs are a lot of responsibility, and are require far too much care and attention for some patients. Every dog, of course, is not appropriate for every person–just finding and training dogs stable enough to be PSDs is a huge project, requiring not just the selection of the right dog, but hundreds of hours of training time to match a dog and a patient. This is not to say that I am not in support of more research; it would be extremely helpful to gather data about predictors of good matches, more about the mechanisms that create the positive effects and what is needed to prevent problems from occurring. However, a need for more information doesn’t negate what we have already, and if we use the same criteria for PSDs as we do for pain killers, it seems we already know a lot.

WHAT ABOUT THE DOGS? Asking if the presence of a dog can truly help someone suffering from neurological issues is one thing, but it’s another thing altogether to take the perspective of the dog. That was, in part, the charge of my students, to ask what effects being a working PSD might have on the dogs themselves. Here are some of the concerns:

Are the dogs themselves safe? Some psychiatric disorders result in lack of impulse control and an increase in aggression. That is why the good programs (examples are Freedom Service Dogs in Denver and Pathway Home, to name a few) are exceptionally careful to screen potential recipients and only place dogs in homes in which they believe that the dogs are safe and the person will benefit rather than being overburdened.

How hard do the dogs work? Obviously this varies greatly, but a study by  Burrows et al raised concerns about dogs placed in families with children with autism spectrum disorder. The authors found that some of the dogs were expected to be “on” for most of the day, and were allowed too little time to rest. In some cases, the children were borderline abusive to the dogs, and the parents, in the author’s opinion, were not aware of the dog’s visual signals of discomfort and distress. Clearly, I would argue, the welfare of the dogs themselves should be a high priority, both for the sake of the dog and for the safety of others. (Tragically, in 2012 a service man’s PSD killed a six-year old boy. The veteran was suffering from PTSD himself, but there is no way to know what triggered the dog’s behavior.) However, the incident brings up the next question:

What effect does the work have on the dog? What is it like for a dog to live with someone who is anxious all the time? I asked this question of Lonnie, wondering what effect his symptoms have on Gander. Refreshingly honest, he answered me by referring to the “empaths” of Star Trek, who took on the emotions of others to free up the victims. “Sometimes I think that describes Gander,” a dog who is not only rock solid but seemingly in touch with the emotions of others. Lonnie describes Gander as a dog who intuitively senses when others are needy, and goes to them and offers exactly what that person needed at the time. What is the cost to Gander? We’ll never know, but it does seem that in his case he is truly a dog that has found his calling, and from talking to Lonnie, I expect that Gander has a wonderful home with an owner who loves, respects and adores him.  You can read more about them on Lonnie’s blog, Veteran Traveler.  Full disclosure: I’m voting for Gander for Dog Hero of the Year as soon as I finish writing this blog, not just for his work with Lonnie, but for protecting a young girl from what looked like a serious attack from another dog.

This “new work” of dogs is a huge issue, and I’ve only touched on a small piece of it. Currently the US Department of Defense has stopped funding PSDs for veterans until there is more research to support their effectiveness. (Go to veteran, author and PSD dog owner Louis Carlos Montalvan’s site to find his blistering criticism of this decision.) There are also controversies about whether the dogs must all be trained by organizations like Freedom Service Dogs or self-trained. The list goes on, but hopefully this introduction will spark some conversations about this very new, and very ancient, “work” of dogs… making people feel better.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: We had a contest on Facebook to name one of  the ewe lambs we’ll be keeping as part of the flock. One lamb is the daughter of my favorite ewe, Lady Godiva, a lovely, benign and prolific ewe who gives us healthy, wonderful lambs year after year. This year she had triplets, and unlike all the other ewes with triplets, she is raising them herself and they are thriving. (Rosebud had triplets and rejected one at birth (Ralphie), Solo had triplets but almost died in the process and her smallest female has been on a bottle since birth, and Spot had triplets but couldn’t milk out of one side of her udder and now out of neither, so all 3 are 100% bottle lambs.) Every year I have hoped for a ewe lamb from Lady Godiva, and finally this year she had 2 boys and one female. The little girl’s distinctive markings and her curious, outgoing personality is probably why I have become so attached to her. Here she is, with her new name, courtesy of “Name the Lamb” contest winner Cindy M and in a pose fitting of her name and personality– I give you (drum roll) Lady Baa Baa:

For those of you not on Facebook, we had 488 entries, many of which suggested more than one name. Wow. That prolific response inspired me to use the suggestions for the other lamb that we will be keeping, the female lamb of lead ewe Barbie, who had twins this year. I have also waited for a female lamb from her, because although she can be an absolute witch to dogs (not anymore to Willie, we got that sorted out this spring), she has gorgeous lambs and has been a trouper mother over many years. Although she is black, her lambs are both all white, and because we have several others who look like clones, I haven’t gotten to know her as well.

However, I spent some time with Barbie’s female lamb the last few evenings, and chose the name suggested by Micheal C, because she reminds me of a cupcake with vanilla icing. We’ll see if she stays sweet, or becomes The Enforcer as she gets older, like her mother. Here she is, our little Cupcake, with Momma Barbie staying close by:

And here are Spot’s triplets, who are still being bottle fed five times a day. The lambs were struggling for weeks, they couldn’t seem to get the hang of doing more than nibbling on the bottle, but they are thriving now. Whew. [Thanks to Katie for coming out and taking the photos!]

It is Dog Bite Prevention week, and I am inspired to repeat a post I wrote last year about that topic. I don’t usually repeat blogs, but I’ve seen so much pain and suffering (and I don’t mean physical) over this issue that I am inspired to put it out into the universe once again. Several of you responded with some extremely thoughtful comments and interesting cases: It would be great to hear if you have any updates. Meanwhile, here’s my piece on preventing dog bites, a bit different from the standard advice:

From May 18, 2012:

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, (which has a DVD  titled “Lost in Translation,” that has a substantial section on reading dogs) 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 in general scares dogs (like 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? Last year’s post had a great many thoughtful and useful comments, don’t hesitate to go back and read them if you are interested. I’d love to hear what you have to say this week, especially from any of you who were working with a “problem dog” last year and would like to give us a progress report, whether it is good new, bad news or neutral.

MEANWHILE, BACK ON THE FARM: Feed the lambs, feed the lambs, feed the lambs… Momma Spot has completely dried up, so her triplets are now being bottle fed full time. That makes 5 lambs as 100% bottle lambs, and they go through 1.25 gallons of milk a day. Ralphie and Goat Girl are old enough to get only 3 to 4 feedings a day, but I’ve got Spot and her lambs in the barn now so that I can feed them as often as possible. I’m trying to train them to a self-feeder, but they are not aware that I am a Certified Applied Behaviorist with years of training under my belt, and have yet to transfer their lust for milk to a self feeder. In my defense, it is harder the older they get (and they are over 4 weeks old) and these 3 seemed not to have read the memo about how to nurse from anything. They FINALLY just started vigorous sucking; up until a few days ago they would nibble at the nipple and ingest tiny quantities compared to what they needed. As a result they are quite thin, but since I’ve brought them into the barn and moved the, to an ALL-MILK-ALL-THE-TIME schedule, they are beginning to look much better. Soon I’ll let Spot out of the pen, so she can eventually start grazing with the rest of the flock, but still be able to lie down beside her babies when in the barn at night. She is a good mother, very attentive, she just doesn’t have any milk. Next year there will be a very tall fence between her and the ram– no lambing for her anymore.

I’m actually going to take 5 ewes out of production next year. They all have some kind of physical issue that makes them less than ideal breeders, but I don’t cull ewes just because they can no longer lamb, and Jim and I guarantee them a good home for life at the farm. That leaves only 2 breeding adult ewes, Barbie and Lady Godiva, but each had both a male and female lamb this spring, so I will keep their ewe lambs for breeding next year. Then I’ll have 4 breeding ewes for spring lambing and 5 non-breeders for Willie to work when the others are busy having their babies. Speaking of babies, I call your attention Lady Godiva and her ewe lamb, with whom I admit to being smitten.

Lady Godiva is one of my absolute favorite ewes of all time. She is benevolent around the other sheep, which is not true of all sheep by any means — sheep not being the peaceful, passive animals often imagined in literature. She is also a wonderful mother and milker: She had triplets this year and all 3 are glowing with health and growing like weeds. In addition, I think she’s quite lovely, although that is the least of my attraction to her. Another ewe, Solo, is perhaps the ugliest sheep I’ve ever seen, but I love her dearly after helping her through an almost fatal lambing session.

It’s time to name the two ewe lambs who we will be keeping. Any ideas on names for Lady Godiva’s little girl? She is exceptionally curious and I think super sweet… (and fyi, I already have one named Oreo!) I’m starting a “Name the Ewe” contest on Facebook, the winner gets a prize from the McConnell library, so jump in if you’d like to.

I’m not sure that “sweet” would describe her brother, shown here trying to climb the Everest of Barbie, the oldest ewe of the flock. He is always starting something, and he and his sister above are often the leaders of the “lamb gang” romps, in which all the lambs tear around in circles. They do this not for any reason related to their health or development, but simply to remind me why I go through all the trouble of lambing every year. Watching the lambs race in circles makes my heart sing, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude that I get to watch them every evening.

Spring is as much about plants as it is animals: here are some colors of springtime in the front yard.

Remember the movie Groundhog Day, in which Bill Murray wakes up every morning to repeat the same day, over and over? That is a bit of what it feels like to write about the value of benevolence in dog training, and the problems associated with aggressive, confrontational techniques. And yet, I just can’t stop, because there is still a flood of advice about using force and confrontation to correct a dog for ….. (fill in the blanks)…. because 1) misbehavior is a sign your dog is attempting to dominate you and 2) you can only counter it by using force. Sigh.

Those of us arguing that we should be teaching our dogs, rather than forcing and threatening them, have an excellent study by Veterinary Behaviorists to support our perspective. Meghan Herron, DVM, DACVB, Frances Shofer, DVM and Ilana Reisner, DVM, DACVB, of the Matthew Ryan Veterinary Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania, asked clients what methods they had used in the past, and how the dog responded. (Applied Animal Behavior Science 117 (2009), 47-54). 140 people, selected because the dogs were brought to the clinic because of “aggression” problems, responded to their survey. Granted, surveys asking people about past behavior are never ideal, we humans being poor historians of our own behavior, but I would argue that this retrospective study has a lot of value. The owners were asked what methods they had used in the past, a question I also always asked of my clients, and to describe their dog’s response to the best of their recollection.

The authors divided the methods used by owners in response to their dog’s misbehavior into the following categories: “Aversive: Direct Confrontation” (alpha rolls, leash corrections, “dominance down,” hit or kick, neck jab, putting on a muzzle, etc.), “Aversive: Indirect Confrontation” (Yell “NO,” Say “Schhhtt,” stare down, growl at dog), “Non-Aversive: Reward-Based” (Food, “Watch Me,” Clicker Training, Sit for everything) and “Neutral” (Avoid, increase exercise, pheromones).

Not surprisingly, leash corrections were common, used by 71% of respondents and 74% yelled “No” in response to their dog’s behavior.  However, 18% reported using an “alpha roll” and as many as 26% used a “stare down” to “correct” their dog. 11% admitting to hitting or kicking their dogs, and 14% to roughly grabbing the dog by the scruff or jowls.

Here are the numbers that matter: The most confrontational, and I would argue, aggressive, behaviors on the part of the owners resulted in the highest levels of aggressive responses from the dogs. 43% of dogs responded with aggression to being hit or kicked, 38% to having an owner grab their mouth and take out an object forcefully, 36% to having a muzzle put on (or attempted?), 29% to a “dominance down,” 26% to a jowl or scruff shake. You get the idea. Of course, these are all dogs who were seen by veterinary behaviorists for aggression-related problems, but it makes the data even more important. Violence begets violence, aggression begets aggression.

An important distinction: Note that the authors, correctly, did NOT label the owner’s responses as “punishment” or “reinforcement.” For one thing, “punishment” is an action that results in a decrease in behavior, so if an owner stares a dog down (argh! who ever started that idea anyway!) and the dog becomes more aggressive, the stare down was not punishment. Second, there are all kinds of actions correctly termed as “positive punishment” that have nothing to do with force or confrontations. For example, I use tons of food (positive reinforcement) to teach dogs a solid stay, and respond to breaks in a stay with a Body Block (Here’s a video as an example.). A Body Block is an example of positive punishment (adding something to decrease the frequency of a behavior), but it is not confrontational or threatening if done correctly. (Note how little I move in the video, and how cheerful the entire episode is.)

Thus, the study is not so much about “reinforcement” and “punishment,” as about what happens when you threaten your dog, or forcefully and physically respond to misbehavior. Please be clear that I am not saying that if one of us occasionally raises our voice to our dog, or has a moment of humanity and loses our temper, we are going to destroy our dogs forever. Neither am I saying that aversives are always bad: aversive events are part and parcel of life, and we all need to know how to handle them, dogs included. However, as many of us have observed for years, using force and confrontation as a primary method of dog training often backfires and creates some of the very problems it is trying to solve.

One of my favorite parts of this study is that it was conducted by two Veterinary Behaviorists (Meghan Herron & Illana Reisner, both, DVMs and board certified vet behaviorists (DACVBs), who I suspect (I am just guessing here), are the experts most likely to effect the behavior of many others in the field of medicine. It has been my experience that quite a few canine professionals, included some veterinarians, are still quick to buy into the “dominance-based” theories of dog training, and it is great that we have data to add to the observations of CAABs and progressive trainers that force elicits force in return. Surely the study is a great addition for anyone who would like to have some good science behind their arguments for benevolent, science-based training, so don’t hesitate to remind people that if you force a dog to defend itself, it will. Canine defensive behavior does not include calling a lawyer or writing a letter to the editor. Teeth will be involved. I’m just saying.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm. It’s GORGEOUS!!!  I mean, it’s make-your-heart-sing, heart-breakingly beautiful this week. There are tulips scattered as if someone sowed jewels instead of seeds in the flower beds. The wild plums are blooming and the air actually feels heavier with their scent. The birds at the feeder are a riot of color: Scarlet Tanagers, Indigo Buntings, Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks, bright yellow Goldfinch. The leaves are swelling from their buds, the grass is growing almost visibly, and the sheep are luxuriating in it.  Of course, the weeds are growing like…  wait for it…  weeds. The pasture needs reseeding, there are a gazillion plants to plant, thistles to battle, barns to repair, etc etc. Jim and I fall into bed after creaking up the stairs on the days we can work together on the farm. That’s actually one of the reasons for the extra work: we’re making major changes in the back yard so that 1) the basement will stop flooding and 2) we can put in a hot tub before fall. One more wonderful thing: the harvest has begun! Amazing, given that we had snow just a few weeks ago, but I’ve got rhubarb from the farm in the frig, resting beside asparagus from friends. I made a special dinner for a good friend last weekend, and we had fresh asparagus roasted in Meyer lemon-infused olive oil. Yummmmmmmm.

Here’s the Scarlet Tanager (thanks to Jim, he took the photo). The tanagers don’t nest here, not the kind of woods they like, but we got to watch them at the feeder for 3 days. Heaven! (And no, I didn’t boost the color, the bird REALLY is that bright. It’s crazy scarlet-orange-red, and one of the prettiest birds in the Northern Hemispheres, in my humble opinion.)

Here’s Rosebud napping under a willow tree with her triplets. Regrettably, she completely rejected one of them (Ralphie), the black and white one curled up on the bottom left. He never tries to nurse from her, but often hangs around with his brother and sister. He is completely imprinted on me, and if he had woken up he would have run to me, bawling for milk. It’s rather sad sometimes, he’ll watch the entire flock run up the hill, stand at my feet and look up as if to say: “And what are we going to do?”

Some tulips to make you smile! I absolutely get why people became obsessed with these flowers, there are few flowers that make me happier. Smiles to all of you dear readers, with my gratitude for spending time with me.

Birds gotta fly, fish gotta swim, and dogs gotta chew. At least, that is my belief, backed up with virtually no research whatsoever. This belief is based on 1) understanding that the impressive teeth and jaw structure of a dog is the Swiss Army knife of dentition, able to tear, rip, shear and crunch without having to switch tools, 2) the inclusion of long chewing bouts in the natural behavior of canids, 3) that an internet search on “chewing in dogs” leads to a multitude of articles on how to stop dogs from chewing, suggesting to me that dogs are highly motivated to do so, and 4) the observation that a good chewing session appears to relax my dogs as well as a long walk.

We all know that dogs need to chew, and thus pet stores and the internet are full of appropriate things for them to chew upon. Yet often our attitude toward their chewing is to see it as a problem, rather than an interesting behavior that deserves more attention and inquiry. What do we really know about chewing in dogs, beyond how to keep them from ripping up our designer pillows? (Well, that would be someone else’s theoretical designer pillows, since the farm house I live in has nothing that could be classified “designer” in it).

If left to their own devices, how often do dogs chew? Are there benefits to encouraging them to chew beyond keeping their teeth clean? I did some research for this post and quickly discovered how little information there seems to be on the behavior as part of the natural repertoire of the dog. Even  Steven R. Lindsay’s extensive series on applied dog behavior (Vol 3) discusses chewing as problem behavior to be prevented, and managed by the provision of appropriate chew toys. This is not a criticism of the books, the series is essentially about training and behavior problem solving, but it highlights what I’ve found in my (albeit brief) research: Our perspective on chewing is that it is a problem to be solved.

Yet I am finding myself categorizing chewing as an important behavior in a dog’s repertoire, and I’m curious what you think. Both of my current dogs, Willie and Tootsie, appear to be as excited about their chew sessions as anything else I have to offer. That could be because their “chew toys” are clearly categorized as food, but I have a gut feeling that it’s not just the food they enjoy, it’s the process of using their mouths the way nature intended. I’ve had the opposite impression of their response to some of the popular interactive games available, like the Nina Ottoson games, which I think are cooler than cool, and I suspect the dogs think are slightly irritating. (But that could be just my own dogs.)

Currently the standard advice to provide a good life for a dog, especially one who lives as a companion dog in a city or suburb, is to give her a good walk at least once a day and exercise her mind with some games or training sessions. Perhaps we need to add in a daily chewing session? What do you think? I’m curious about your thoughts on the matter.

Safety Issues: I can’t bring this issue up without mentioning the importance of giving dogs objects to chew that are safe. The primary concerns are 1) Toys that can break apart and create small pieces that choke your dog. Don’t think this is just marketing: I almost lost a dog a million years ago when he began to choke on a piece of rawhide. I didn’t use rawhides for years because of it, would never give them to a dog when I wasn’t in the same room with them, and take them away if they’ve been chewed down to a small piece I think might be dangerous. I will admit to a certain amount of obsessiveness  here, but if you’ve ever seen your beloved dog’s tongue start to go blue, you’d understand.

2) Dental Health: Chewing can be a great way to keep your dog’s teeth and gums healthy, but chewing on hard objects can also break a dog’s tooth. You may recall a post I wrote about Willie’s root canal, and how displeased I was when the veterinary dental specialist informed me after the procedure that Willie should never be allowed chew toys because his tooth was now more fragile and might break. Given how important I think chewing is to dogs, this was not welcome news. I did restrict chew toys, but the tooth broke within six months anyway and I had it removed. I still avoid hard objects, and don’t give him Nylabones or antlers, but don’t hesitate to let him have satisfying chew sessions on a regular basis. As we well know, every dog is different, and you need to choose the toys appropriate for your dog’s size, teeth and jaw power. I love how many of the new, well-made toys will rank how well their products will stand up to vigorous chewers, some dogs being able to chew their way through the Great Wall of China if given a chance.

3) Toxic Substances: What’s in those chew toys anyway? Are they good for your dogs? It is those concerns that motivate me to buy American-made rawhide only, and to love the healthy toys available through Planet Dog. I’ll be the first to admit that I give my dogs some edible chews whose exact ingredients are a mystery to me, but I do try to be mindful of concerns about additives. I still love giving my dogs real bones, in part because there is nothing added to them (and that’s what their teeth are designed to chew on anyway), but of course would never give them cooked bones or the long, harder bones of large animals that could break a tooth. Here’s a new product line I’ve never used: Bionic Pet Products, anyone used any of these toys or stuffable chew toys yet? Willie and Tootsie still get a stuffed Kong every morning, but I think I’ll give the Bionic line a try.

Two questions for you then: Do you agree that dogs “need” to chew, or that allowing them to use their mouths and teeth on a regular basis is good for them? And what do YOU give your dog to chew? Favorites? Products you have had problems with? I look forward to your always thoughtful contributions.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: The leaves are out, the tulips are blooming and the summer breeding birds have arrived. Just last week we greeted the Rufous-sided Towhee, the Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks, and the Orioles. Jim and I are about as busy with the farm as one can get; all of you who also live in the country know just what I’m talking about. Everything needs to happen RIGHT NOW! Reseed the bare patches in the pasture QUICK before it gets too hot and the rains stop. Clear out the new trail through the woods NOW before it gets too overgrown. HURRY and weed out the flower beds before the grass takes over. Set up the portable electric fences (which involves trimming the grass beneath them each time they are moved) for the week’s controlled grazing. Feed the 5 bottle lambs 3-4 times a day, including Spot’s triplets who just couldn’t ever figure out the self feeder and take forever to get milk into their bodies.

I mustn’t give the wrong impression: We are busy (especially with this being the last week of the UW class I teach to 150 students) but spring is heaven here, and sometimes I think we are the luckiest people in the entire world. Willie and I get to work sheep again and have been loving it, the world is a palate of greens and pinks and blues, and the bird song wakes us up each morning like a symphony.

Here are the two bottle lambs who are masters of the self-feeder, Ralphie (black, in the front) and Goat Girl in the back. They suck like a vacuum cleaner and are done in less than 30 seconds. Lambs wag their tails when they are getting milk, and these two look like  helicopters when they are feeding.

Here’s the action at the bird feeders–I took the photo through the kitchen window so it’s not as sharp as I would like, but I thought you would enjoy the colors. (Along with all the Goldfinch, there is a male and female Downy Woodpecker and a male Rose-breasted Grosbeak in the bottom right corner. We’ve had as many as 10 males RBGs at the feeder at the same time, such fun. Along with their physical beauty, they have a beautiful song, sort of like a slow, raspy Robin whose notes start with W’s.

Years ago, I took care of a gooey-sweet adolescent Border collie, (Tilly, I’ll call her) who flattened her ears and folded like a bird’s wing every time you said her name. She was responsive and polite, and the other dogs seemed to like her as much as I did. It was especially rainy when she visited, so I appreciated that she never objected to endless paw wiping and toweling off, not to mention body checks for ticks and dental inspections. One morning I saw that she had grabbed something from the leaf litter in the woods, the kind of “something” you figure would be better off melding its way into the soil rather than ending up in the stomach of even the hardiest of dogs. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it looked well on its way to rotting itself into organic mush. Probably not the best snack for a dog to eat. I didn’t think twice about reaching toward her mouth to extract her woodland treasure, given how deferential Tilly was to both me and the other dogs. At least, not until I saw her body go stiff and her eyes go hard as the quietest of growls floated into the misty, spring air.

Uh oh. That’s the posture that behaviorists, trainers and owners of resource guarding dogs know well, (or learn fast), and it immediately sends the primitive part of your brain into Alert Mode. I always picture some version of a submarine’s warning signal blaring: UH ooooGA! UH ooooga! as the captain yells DIVE! DIVE! to the first mate. It’s a relatively common posture in the world of dogs, and it’s message is clear: “This is Mine. Attempts To Take It Away Will Be Met With Force.” Common although it might be, what do we know about its origins, and how should we handle it when it happens?

DEFINING THE TERM First, I should be clear about what I mean by “resource guarding” (RG, also known as “possessive aggression”). I define “resource guarding” as behavior that discourages another to take, or get too close to, an object or valued area in a dog’s possession. Usually this refers to food, treasured toys or sleeping areas, but I’d argue that some dogs guard their humans as if they were the best bone in the house. RG can range from a quiet head turn to a deafening growl, forward charge or an actual bite.

[Note: If you are primarily interested in how to treat or prevent RG, skip to the bottom of the post. I'm beginning with a discussion of more theoretical interest.]

(Someone asked a related, and great question: Should we include “territorial aggression” into the category of “resource guarding”? Hummmm. On the one hand I’d say No, in part because of my dislike of the term “terr’l aggression,” since so often it is used to describe agonistic displays from dogs who are not actually aggressive but are afraid of strangers. Given that neophobia is a very different motivation than a desire to possess something, much of what is called territorial aggression may have little to do with possessiveness. On the other hand, I’ve worked with several dogs who showed absolutely no sign of fear when I approached the house, but signaled what I interpreted as “You might want to rethink coming any closer to my den.” Thus, I’ll use my standard answer to all good but complicated questions: “It depends.”) By the way, Lee Niel and Jacquelyn Jacobs, in the Department of Population Medicine at the Ontario Veterinary College, University of Guelph, are currently doing research on “possession aggression/resource guarding,” which included asking a number of behaviorists their definition and what term they most often use. Stay tuned, I look forward to seeing their results when they come out.

WHEN IS IT A PROBLEM? Between Dogs: It is perfectly reasonable for one dog to signal another that his chew bone is HIS chew bone, thank you very much. Appropriate signals are head turns, stares and, depending on a host of other factors, a quiet growl. Appropriate responses are immediate withdrawals or strategic (and often brilliant) attempts by an item-less dog to worm her way into the others good graces. (Not to mention the famous distraction technique of Einsteinian dogs: BARK BARK BARK BARK!!! says the dog who wants the chew bone, vigorously vocalizing at the front window. Dog with bone drops it on the way to join in the barking, while Einstein Dog circles back and gets the bone.) Every owner has to decide what is acceptable in their own household; my criteria are quiet warnings like head turns or stares are acceptable, anything else is discouraged.

Between a dog and a person: This again is very much up to the owner, but I’ll go on record as saying that,  in general, I expect every one of my dogs to let me take anything away from them without protest. Caveats: First, I am very careful not to abuse that right. I work hard to train my dogs to drop things on cue so that I am not taking something out of their mouth by force. Second, there are exceptions: Tootsie grabbed a dropped metal twist tie and ran off to swallow it a few days after she came to the farm. You’d better believe I swooped in like a falcon and took it out of her mouth. On the other hand, before Tulip my sheep-guarding Great Pyrenees died, she would occasionally find the body of a small mammal or bird in the woods or pasture. I made an executive decision that if she was in charge of protecting my flock from coyotes and stray dogs, she could be in charge of any treasures she could find in the woods or pastures. Not so in the house however. The two of us seemed to come to that agreement easily and with clarity. (But I had to teach her to be polite if she had a treasure and was approached by another dog: Stay tuned for the blog on how I did it some time later in spring or early summer.)

CAUSES OF RESOURCE GUARDING: That’s easy to answer: We don’t know. Seriously, we really, really don’t know. Does growing up in a large litter and having to fight for food make a difference? Could there be a genetic predisposition to resource guarding? Katie Martz and I could find nothing in our searches, so I emailed a list of Certified Applied Animal Behaviorists to ask if there is any research on genetic or environmental factors related to RG, and and there simply doesn’t appear to be anything out there on this specific topic. However, PhD behavior-geneticist Steven Zawistoski and PhD psychologist John C. Wright reminded me of some of literature that might relate in some way. Remember the early behavioral genetics studies done at the Jackson Laboratory by Scott and Fuller? Steve and John directed me to some of the early papers that might relate. Pawlowski &  Scott (1956) did some of the early work on priority access to a valued item (which is the correct definition of “dominance,” by the way) among 4 breeds (Basenjis, Beagles, Wire-Haired Fox Terriers and American Cocker Spaniels) and summarized their results: “It is concluded that these differences are the result of genetic inheritance, which probably acts through physiological mechanisms which affect the threshold of stimulation.’ Of course, dominating access to a bone is not exactly the same as guarding it, but it includes it, because some dogs maintained ownership of the bone by doing what we define as RG.

More recently, Liinamo et al (2007), looked at genetic variation in “aggression-related traits in Golden Retrievers in the Netherlands, asking if owners saw “aggressive” behavior  in a variety of contexts. Those related to RG were family members either approaching or removing a dog’s food, or removing a dog’s toy. The context of approaching or removing food had high “heritability” factors (.94 and .95) which does not mean that the behavior is “mostly genetic,” but means that there is a large amount of genetic variation related to the trait, and thus one could begin a selection process of selecting for or against a particular trait. (I always have to stop and take a breath when interpreting the term “heritability,” because a trait like “herding” in Border collies would show a low heritability, it being pervasive in BCs, and thus showing low genetic variability. Make sense? (Steve Z explained to me that he considers this term the genetic equivalent of the term “positive reinforcement,” because it means the opposite of what one might think.)

I would argue, based on the little research we have and my own experiences with hundreds of RG cases (1,000′s?), that there is a genetic component to the behavior. I’ve worked with litters of 11 dogs in which the biggest and strongest (and first to get to the nipple) pup became the RG dog very early in life. On the other hand, there is a great deal of research on a variety of species that reminds us that experience plays a significant role in “winning” and “losing” competitions.  (See Hsu & Wolf 1999 for example.) One early win makes subsequent wins more likely, and vice versa. I suspect that this is one of those complicated behaviors that has both a genetic and an experiential component, and that the resultant behavior is some kind of interaction between nature and nurture. But again, we really don’t know. Anyone looking for a PhD topic?)

TREATMENT FOR INTERSPECIFIC GUARDING: I’m going to talk here about resource guarding between dogs and people. Treating it between two dogs uses the same basic principles, but requires enough alterations in technique to deserve its own article. That said, the most effective technique for stopping a dog from guarding resources from human intervention is to change your dog’s internal response to anothers attempt to possess their “treasure.” That is why you are best off using Desensitizing and Classical Conditioning to teach your dog to love it when you approach and reach toward an object. In other words, in this case you are not training your dog to respond to a cue, but conditioning an internal response to someone approaching something that they cherish.

Before going any further, stop here an contact a behaviorist or progressive trainer who understands how to use classical conditioning if your dog has ever put you at risk of being seriously injured. You’d call an electrician if you thought your wiring was unsafe in your house, wouldn’t you? Meanwhile, or if your dog is threatening but not dangerous, follow the steps outlined below.

STEP ONE: Be an armchair ethologist by thoughtfully and specifically writing down what objects your dog guards, what your dog does to cause you to say she is guarding, and how close you need to be to see any sign of guarding. Here’s an example:

Objects: Chew bone, stuffed Kong, favorite stuffed toy in the shape of a deranged dinosaur.

Behavior & Distance: My dog first stops chewing or eating, and stands motionless if I get within 4-5 feet of her while she is chewing on her Kong. If I move to within 2-3 feet, her body tenses and her mouth closes. If I walk right up to her and reach toward the object, she will growl.

STEP TWO: Find something your dog likes even better than what she guards. Usually it will be some form of meat, but every dog is different. Be sure to experiment–every trainer or behaviorist has seen X,000 numbers of people who swear their dog “doesn’t care about food” until we get out our super stash of cooked chicken or freeze-dried liver and get their dog turning somersaults for it. Food is ideal because you can have it on hand and chop it up into pieces that allow you to create lots of reinforcement.

STEP THREE: Stocked with lots of treats, set up a situation in which your dog would guard. In the example above, give your dog a stuffed Kong, leave the room and re-enter with a handful of cooked chicken. Stop WELL BEFORE you would predict a reaction (any reaction) from your dog. In the example above, that would be at about 7-8 feet away. Toss a piece of chicken so that it lands right beside your dog’s mouth. (If you are like me, and flunked softball in school, just toss another one if you miss.). Wait for your dog to eat it up, and toss another piece. Repeat once or twice, then leave the room. If your dog leaves the Kong and comes over to you for more, look up at the ceiling and ignore her. You want her to learn that food only comes out of the sky if she is eating and you are standing nearby.

STEP FOUR: After a few sessions of this, start where you began in the last session, but don’t toss any food until you walk forward one step closer, no more. Toss chicken and withdraw one step. Walk forward one forward again, toss a treat and then WALK AWAY. You want your dog to think “NO! Don’t walk away!!” If, however, your dog reacts by stiffening, make a mental note to start farther back or to only approach in half steps. You can either stop there, or leave the room and re-enter it, repeating Step Four one or two times.

STEP FIVE: Gradually, ever so gradually, decrease the distance between you and your dog. Walk to within 5 feet in one session, then 4 in the next. Go back to just 5 feet for 2 sessions, then go to 4 and possibly 3 IF the dog is responding well. “Responding well” means that your dog is switching from “Oh No! She’s going to take my bone away” to “Goody! Here she comes! Whenever I have a chew bone and she comes close to it I get something better! How cool is that????” That means your dog’s body is loose and not stiff. She does not start chewing frantically as you approach. Her mouth is open and she looks as if she is happily anticipating your approach.

What if she leaves the bone and come to me? Well, good girl Fidette, that means you’ve stopped guarding the bone in search of something better. Again, simply ignore her and wait for her to return to her bone. It might take awhile for some dogs, but if you look away (this part is important) she will eventually give up and go back to her Kong or dinner bowl.

STEP SIX: Once you can approach your dog and stand right beside her, begin skipping the food toss until you are a few strides away, and start classically conditioning a reach toward the object. Keep in mind that you are working on re-wiring her brain so that she forms a new association between your actions and how she feels about them. Walking toward her is a different action than reaching toward her, so you need to think of it as a different category. (Understanding the distinction between each action you make is perhaps the most important aspect of being able to use classical conditioning to turn around a behavior, and it is not something we do naturally without training ourselves to be expert observers and thoughtful analysts of behavior.) First, bend toward the food or toy, drop a treat and then straighten up. Do this several times, or as often as necessary for your dog to remain relaxed. Remember: your dog drives the system here, not an idea you have in your head for how long this should take.  Gradually move your arm and hand closer and closer to the food or object, eventually taking it away and giving your dog something wonderful in return. I once convinced a head-strong and very RG’y dog to give me the dead bird she had in her mouth, and when she did, I gave it back to her. The people watching were appalled, but that’s what she wanted more than anything in the world, and she trusted me ever after.

STEP SEVEN: Keep it up. Forever. Not every day, or even every week, but at least every month or so you should remind your dog why it is in his or her best interests to let you take anything away.

PREVENTION: That’s easy–just follow the step above, but you don’t have to go as slowly as you would if you were trying to turn around an established behavior. Willie and Tootsie both love it when I pick up their bowls, because it means they are getting something even better. Neither have ever even suggested a modicum of RG’g, which is exactly why I continue to remind them how fun it is to let me take things away from them!

OPERANT CONDITIONING?: One last comment–there is a role for operant conditioning here, which is to teach dogs to “Leave It” or “Drop It” (those are different in the mind of a dog I suspect: in one case the dog is focused on something, in another he or she has it in his or her mouth, and possession is the law in canid society.)

MEANWHILE back on the farm: Spring has sprung! Although today it is cool and rainy, it’s been absolutely glorious for a few days. (My sympathies to those in Minnesota and northern Wisconsin who got over a foot of snow yesterday. Not fair, not fair at all!) The lambs are finally settling in, all 17 of them. We have one orphan (Ralphie, rejected by his mother) and 4 other lambs who need supplemental feeding. Feedings occur 4 times a day (down from 8, whew!) and take about a half hour total to get the milk ready and the lambs fed. The ewes are getting a mix of fresh, spring grass, alfalfa hay and a corn/oat mix and so should be making lots of protein-rich milk for their babies. (Would someone tell momma Buttercup that bawling at us at 120 decibels every time she hears our voice will NOT result in any more food? Not to mention that there are sheep starving in China….)

The lambs are now old enough that Willie can help me move the flock around, and we’ve gotten up the portable, electric fences so that we can do controlled grazing all summer. We are re-seeding one third of the pasture, it suffering from the drought last year, and will have to keep the sheep off of that for two months or so once it is seeded. Meanwhile, the daffodils are sun-shining their blooms all over the yard, and the crocus are starting to fade. Here are some now, along with the first bee I saw the spring:

I’m in the tunnel. You know the one I mean, the one where you are so engrossed, overwhelmed and logistically enclosed by what you are doing that life seems narrow but not small, confined but not constrained. I am full up with my life right now, which I summed up as well as possible in the title: Lambs, Rain, Papers, Lambs, Rain, Papers.

If there is life outside of this small but saturated universe, would it do my laundry? This is not a small thing to ask, given that the pants I am wearing into the barn could stand up by themselves, and whose smell could clear a room. I should save them for the next time I think I’ll have to stand in line and wait for something.

And so, today post is all about the farm. Although I have had an especially interesting week on campus (including a vigorous discussion in my University class yesterday about meat eating, and getting to see Jane Goodall speak on Monday, more inspiring than I can say), most of my waking hours alternate between grading papers and attending to lambs and ewes. And dealing with mud. And more mud. And then more lambs, and then more mud.

It has rained here relentlessly, although I should be accurate and mention that at the moment it is actually sleeting. We have had 2 gorgeous days in the last 2 weeks, but other than that it has been grey and cloudy at best. It doesn’t take long for this desert-bred woman to perceive dewy and moist as soggy and moldy after a few days, so I won’t pretend I’m happy about it. If I could stay inside reading good novels and eating bad food I suspect it would be much more fun, but I’m walking to the barn six or eight times a day, and slopping through the mud to fill the water buckets for my lactating ewes, whose lambs are too young to be out in a downpour.
Speaking of lambs, all the ewes have now finally had their lambs. Spot was the hold out, and she had triplets late last night. She was due to lamb around April 1st, but played an April Fool’s joke on us by not getting bred that round and waiting until the next go-round to have her lambs. This is her first set of triplets:

Regretably, she is suffering from the same problem as Rosebud (now cured) and Oreo (not cured, but only has a single lamb, thank heavens), in which her milk glands are blocked and she can’t give any milk from one side of her udder. I am already bottle feeding two of Spot’s lambs, the one standing is always fat with milk, so I think she is getting the lion’s share. (FYI, the analysis on the milk has yet to come back, but there are no symptoms of mastitis. We have had the best luck with a peppermint based udder cream called Dynamint, which seemed to turn Rosebud around. (Thank you Ann T!). Cabbage leaves and alternating hot and cold packs turned out to be logistically a tad challenging to do 3-4 times a day, given the ewes lack of interest in the project.)

Earlier I sat down in the larger pen with the older lambs to get some photos. Here’s a lamb discovering the concept of “the toe of Trisha’s boot.”

Here’s one of my favorite lambs: Lady G also had triplets, one black, one white and this one who is mostly white with a bit of freckling on the nose and a grey ear. He’s very bold and curious, but this afternoon he was mostly very sleepy.

The lamb summary is thus this: 17 lambs from 7 ewes, 4 sets of triplets (a first for the farm). One lamb is an orphan, his mother has completely rejected him, but he is doing well on a self-feeder. There will be at least 3 other lambs who need supplemental feeding, they are all taking milk from a bottle and are in various stages of learning to use a self-feeder. All the ewes are doing well, although not all their udders are. However, dear Solo had a ruptured pre-pubic tendon and probably wouldn’t have managed any live lambs if I hadn’t been lucky and gotten my sorry ass out of bed early enough, and if she wasn’t a hardy warrior-woman-sheep and a wonderful, dedicated mother. She and I have bonded over her difficulties, and I have to admit a special affection for her now. She should never be asked to lamb again though, so I am going to have to find a pet home for her. I don’t have a photo of her today, but I’ll post one soon. We are going through prodigious quantities of goat milk, and if it wasn’t for good friend Donna H with a goat dairy I’m not sure what we would do. There is powdered lamb milk replacer but I’ve never found that lambs do all that well on it.

In spite of the weather, there are other signs of spring besides lambs. A few of the bulbs have managed to put up with the alternating warm and then freezing/snowing/sleeting/raining weather and begun to bloom. These are the first flowers on the farm and they do my heart more good than I can say. There’s nothing like color when you’ve been starved for it for months. These flowers are tiny, you could walk by them and barely notice them, but I’m drinking them in like a thirsty beast in the desert.

Time to go feed lambs. And grade a few more papers (right now I’m grading papers about the ethics of using psychiatric service dogs, fascinating stuff).

Anyone else have a spring story to tell? Or how about fall if you live down under?  I love to hear from you if you have a story to relate to the changing seasons. I’d write one about my own dogs, but I’m afraid there is nothing to say about them except that they are being sorely neglected. Poor Willie sits inside the barn and practically trembles with excitement over the lambs, but otherwise gets little exercise. Me neither.  How about you…any spring or fall stories to tell?

We started a  “Guess the Breed Background” contest this week after sending in a DNA sample of Katie’s dog Leo to the Mars Wisdom Panel lab. Here’s a photo of Leo if you missed it:

Over 292 people sent in their guesses, and congratulations are due to Robin S!  Of all the 290+ guesses on the blog, you came closest of anyone to guessing Leo’s genetic background, as analyzed by the Wisdom Panel (Professional), by guessing (in order of genetic representation), Boxer/Shih Tzu/Sheltie . But then, no one actually came very close to guessing what came back on the Wisdom Panel, which was:

One parent was half Boxer and half American Staffordshire Terrier (so Leo is 1/4 of each). (No one guessed both breeds as part of the mix, which is understandable if you think about it, but a good reminder to us all when guessing breed backgrounds.) This result appears to be definitive, in that there is a very high confidence level that one of Leo’s parents was indeed a Boxer/Am Staff cross.

The other parent came back as “Mixed Breed,” as did Leo’s grandparents and great grandparents. The top 5 breeds comprising that ‘mixed breed’ were German Spitz 21.86% , Shuh Tzu 8.5%, Belgian Tervuren 6.35%, Parson Russell Terrier 4.88% and Mastiff 4.49%.

Reports like this have generated a veritable stew of questions, confusions and in some cases, if I may be so blunt, snorts of derision. A cursory look at articles and comments about the results that others have received are full of skepticism about reports that include extremely rare breeds like Dandi Diamont Terriers, Jindos, Cane Corso & Scottish Deerhounds as part of the mixed-breed analysis. Look, for example, at some of the analyses that came up in a study being done by Dr. Julie Levy. I can understand the questions: Exactly how many Salukis or Brussels  Griffons are out running the streets breeding willy nilly with someone’s mutt down the road?

In Leo’s case, Katie and I were 100% on board with the Boxer/Am Staff results. We always thought he had some pit-type breeding in him, and Leo behaves as much like a Boxer as, well, a Boxer. He is high energy and clownish and most importantly, uses his paws like a Boxer all the time. In Katie’s words “He thinks any problem can be solved by throwing a paw at it.”

Then we looked at the breeds listed under “Mixed-Breed.” German Spitz? Hummm. Seems possible, but certainly not a breed that comes to mind looking at Leo. (At least not to us.) However, look up German Spitz and you’ll find that it is both a breed and a type, which includes  American Eskimo and Pomeranian. And 8.50% Shih Tzu? Seems possible. 4.49% Mastiff? Hmm, what might that mean?

This is when it is wise to actually pay attention to what the good people at Mars are telling you. Here’s the text at the top of the page titled “What does the Mixed Breed Analysis mean for my dog?” It began by saying “We have identified for you the next 5 best breed matches which appeared in the analysis of your dog’s DNA. One or more of these breeds could [my emphasis] have contributed to the genetic makeup of the ancestors indicated by the mixed breed icon.” It goes on to say that there may be a breed or breeds that they can’t detect with their current data base of purebred dogs. In other words, they are confident that one of Leo’s parents is a half Boxer/half Am Staff, and are making likely predictions of the other parent. In other words, the ‘mixed breed’ analyses are guesses. Good ones, but still, just guesses based on probability statements. Neither are they saying that Leo is, for example, exactly 21.86% German Spitz, but rather, “…the relative strength of each result in our analysis with the most likely at the top of the list.” Exactly, then, what the percentages mean were unclear to me, until I spoke to several people at Mars itself.

After networking through just a few channels I was able to speak with two of the top people at Mars Veterinary, Alan Martin, PhD and Senior Bioinformatics Scientist, and Angela Hughes,  DVM & PhD and Veterinary Genetics Research Manager. They know more about genetics in their sleep than I do wide awake–I don’t even know what “bioinformatics” is for heavens sake. Happily, after almost an hour and a half speaking to the two of them, I knew a heck of a lot more than I did before we spoke. (Don’t be jealous; anyone who would like to talk about the result they obtained is more than welcome to call and speak to an expert at the company.)

Here are some of the things I learned: First off, the test done by Mars is best described as a pattern recognition test. The computers (each dog’s analysis requires 7 million runs) look at 321 “markers” on the chromosomes in the sample, looking for patterns of base-pairs in the strands of DNA. The computer program is looking for patterns consistent with both different ancestral breed types (“Guard breeds” like mastiffs, Am Staffs, etc, “Ancient breeds” like Chows and Siberian Huskys or “European breeds” like hounds and retrievers), and individual breeds, each of which has its own distinctive pattern of arrangement of base-pairs. (Here’s a good Genetics 101 refresher for anyone who would like the review.) Some breeds have more definitive patterns than others, especially those that have been closely bred as purebreds for a long time. Dr. Hughes reported that breeds like Catahoulas, Jack Rusell Terriers and Rat Terriers, who were bred more for function and less for form for so long, are more varied genetically and thus a bit harder to pin down. (It also explains why some of these breeds show up as false positives, when the computer searches can’t find a match and in some electronic version of desperation, settles on a Catahoula.

Speaking of Rare Breeds:  That was my primary question to both scientists at Mars. What do those low percentage breeds really mean? That somewhere way back in time Leo really did have a purebred Tervuren ancestor, or not? The answer is maybe. It could be that Leo simply has some patterns of base-pairs on his chromosomes that just happen to be very much like a similar sequence in Tervs or more likely, a related breed in a similar group. It could be that indeed, somewhere back in time a purebred Terv bred with someone’s purebred Whatchamacallit. Mars has done extensive testing of their computer models and found that their “Mixed-Breed” analysis is about 90% accurate. Given the complexity of genetics, that is impressive. It also means that 10% of the time, it is flat wrong.  Thus, an analysis could come up with several very likely breeds and one outlier.  Rather than dismissing the results as a whole, the surprising outlier simply deserves more attention, or to be taken with a grain of salt.

If you’ve scrolled ahead you’ve just seen a photo of Leo’s mother.  She came into the shelter pregnant, and so half of Leo’s parentage is definitive, if not to breed at least to an individual. Katie did not send the photo in with the DNA sample (she sent in a blood sample; do be careful of cheek samples, they can be easily compromised although it costs less to do). However, I sent the photo in this morning to Dr. Hughes at Mars and she immediately said “Oh, that explains the breed that came up just under our reporting criteria, Miniature Wire-Haired Dachshund.” (I thought PBGV when I first saw her. Shows what I know… which is enough, I would add, to keep my mouth shut whenever anyone asks me to guess a breed.) Based on looking at all the details of the data (only the top 5 breeds making up a “mixed-breed” are reported unless you call and ask), there is a suggestion that Leo’s mom has a lot of Min WH Dachshund and Shih Tzu in her. I also learned that wire hair (or “furnishings” as they as so delightfully called) and short legs are dominant traits, so it is not surprising that they show up in Mom.

Overall, after all this, I have a much more nuanced understanding of what the results of the Wisdom Panel tests actually mean, and find the results to be extremely interesting. Much of the time I would argue that the motivation for the tests is to satisfy our curiosity, a trait I find to be one of humankind’s most useful and endearing. However, there are other more practical applications: Once one knows if there are purebred lines well represented in one’s “mutt,” one can also ask for Genetic Mutation Tests to be done. For example, Terriers suffer from several diseases more often than other breeds (lens luxation for example), and Leo’s test shows that he is negative for the ADAMTS17 mutation that could cause that affliction. Good to know, especially if early treatment would make a difference in the case of some diseases.

But what if you get back a report that says “No Result”? I read several comments by angry or disappointed people who got back a report that said there was no particular breed that could be assigned to their dog.  They felt that they had wasted their money, and clearly wanted to get results that listed a breed, any breed, in the report. I asked Dr. Hughes about this, and she said first, reports are now sent even with low probability results, in the understanding that everyone wants to know something about what the analysis found. In addition, all “No Result” reports are now sent with a letter that describes the process that led to the finding, and offers a refund if the owner wants one. One could argue it is possible that a re-analysis would come up with a different result; even computers make mistakes, and sometimes, in Dr. Hughes’ words, “go down a tangent” and need to be redirected. I’m glad to hear it’s not just me that can be easily distracted.

However, in some cases one’s dog really contains such an amalgam of genes that it is truly impossible to associate any breed to it. If I got back such results I would be fascinated, because to me that’s not “No Result,” it’s an extremely interesting one. Biologically, such dogs are called “mongrels,” but many hesitate to use the word because it has negative connotations in other contexts. If my dog came back closer to a village dog than a Labrador, I’d be fascinated, not disappointed. I’m not sure that is, genetically, the correct analogy, but the point here is that “no breed detected” is a definite result to me, and an interesting one at that. My very-much-unsolicited advice would be to re-title “No Result” into “Unique and Special” or “All American” (the All American is actually a favorite phrase of Dr. Martin, who tells me that US dogs have much more genetic variance than dogs in the UK… many more strays and random matings for example). Dr. Hughes tells me that the most common questions they get are questions about breed ID: That black is dominant and so is black and white spotting, so not every all black dog has any labrador in it and not all black and white dog have a snippet of Border Collie.

In summary, I better understand now why some of these rare breeds pop up in the analysis, and have more confidence in the results. Next time I am curious about a dog I suspect I won’t be able to resist sending in a sample. Most importantly, blog reader Robin S came closest to the analysis, and wins the DVD of her choice.(Robin, email us at info@patriciamcconnell.com and tell us what DVD you’d like!)

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Beyond blogs, grading term papers, and trying to keep up with email (ha!), it’s pretty much all about lambing. Four ewes have lambed, with eight lambs total. Two sets of twins are doing well, but things have not gone so smoothly with the others. Rosebud (triplets) and her daughter Oreo (who delivered twins but one was found dead when I returned home from UW on Tuesday evening) both have dsyfunctional udders. It’s not typical mastitis, no fever, the little milk that comes out is fine. But their bags are hard as rocks, poor things, and they are giving almost no milk at all. The condition is called “hard bag” (not very creatively, but certainly descriptive) and isn’t well understood, there are several possible causes but no reliable cures. We’re working on it (vet visits, hot packs to the udders, reaching out to UW specialists) but right now the 4 lambs are being bottle fed as often as possible with goat milk from our good friend Donna H. (Bless you!)  I’d write more, but the lambs are way overdue for milk. And we have 3 ewes to lamb yet… if one has a single I might be able to graft a one of Rosebud’s triplets on to her. Rosebud has completely rejected one little lamb, so it would be good to graft her onto another ewe if she has enough milk. Solo looks like she might be thinking about having her lamb(s), I’m hoping for a single.

Here are Buttercup’s two contented, napping lambs, more lamb photos when I get a minute:

And for those of you in the Facebook “When will Spot lamb pool”…. she’s not saying.

It’s time for a contest! I’m going to be writing a blog on Friday about the results of a Wisdom Panel® (Professional) test that Katie and I had run on her new mystery pup, Leo, adopted from Humane Animal Welfare Society of Waukesha, WI.

We thought it would be great to fun to ask what your best guesses of what breeds make up Leo’s heritage, and will reinforce the winner with a signed Patricia McConnell DVD of his or her choice.

Below you’ll find pictures of Leo, as well as some physical characteristics. Guess up to three breeds that you think might be represented in Leo’s genetics, in order from greatest to least percentages. Get your guesses in by 11:59pm CST on Thursday, April 11 and we’ll let you know who won, along with the full results of Leo’s breed profile in Friday’s blog.

Here’s what we can tell you: Leo is just over seven months old, weighs in at 46.6 pounds and is 22 inches and the shoulder. (His mother was 17 lbs postpartum. We’ll show pictures of her on Friday.) Happy Guessing!