THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We all know the signs of imminent danger between two dogs right? Immobile stiff bodies, direct eye contact, round eyes. Except when dogs are playing and then the exact same postures and expressions are nothing but pauses between frolics. That is a perfect example of what’s called meta-communication, or communication about communication.

Here’s a video of Willie and his new friend, Leo–the new pup of Katie Martz here at the office–illustrating meta-communication as well as any two dogs could. I look forward to your comments about it.

First, some background: Yesterday they met for the first time, and it went beautifully. Katie stood 40 feet from the door with Leo as I let Willie out and asked him “Where’s the Dog?” We played tug when he looked at Leo and then back at me. After 2 subsequent “autowatches” in which Willie looked at Leo and looked back at me without prompting (and was reinforced with a tug game for it), I released Willie to go meet Leo. He immediately ran over to Leo, who pilo-erected the fur on a dorsal line from neck to tail a little bit, but stood his ground and allowed Willie to sniff him. After a few short seconds Leo relaxed as Willie sniffed him, and both Katie and I felt sure (we discovered later as we talked about it) that he was about to put his forepaws onto Willie’s back. I wasn’t sure how that would go over with Willie so I said “Go to the barn!” to keep their first greeting positive. It all happened so fast I was acting on gut feeling as much as anything else, having learned with Willie and hundreds of client’s dog to avoid extended greetings between dogs. So Willie dashed off toward the barn and their first encounter went well.

Quickly we moved into a fenced 3 acre pasture, and both dogs got to run together off leash. They played beautifully together, although Leo is too young and small to keep up with grown-up, long-legged Willie. There’s a lot going on in this short video, but first watch how Leo’s long play bows correlate with both dogs standing stock still and staring directly at each other. Those signals, normally signs of trouble are not a problem however, because as meta-communication, play bows signal the other dog that stiff bodies and direct stares are just in fun. Just as a football jersey means a tackle isn’t true aggression (okay, maybe American football is a bad example?!), play bows signal other dogs that any behavior to follow is meant as play. That’s why you see them most often between unfamiliar dogs as they begin to play together.

Watch as Leo does beautiful, clear play bows at second 8, 20 (behind my legs), 118, 126, 148 while he and Willie stand stock-still. I love how both dogs stay still until one does what’s called “start-stop,” that quick little lunge that elicits a reaction. (I do it myself to see what will happen at second 40.) (By the way, YouTube changed its settings–surprise, sigh–so you may see another video after the end of this one. Just ignore until we figure out how to change things around!)

Watch too how Leo runs to me and sits beside my legs at second 30. My interpretation of this behavior is that it’s done by dogs who are a bit intimidated by another. There is a great interaction between the dogs right after that, with Leo doing what looks like an abbreviated muzzle punch at second 33 and then licking Willie’s muzzle.

If you watch the video to the end you’ll see Leo squat and pee, and then turn and look back toward Katie. He’s learned if he pees outside he gets a treat, and boy did he learn that lesson well!

There’s lots going on in this video, I’d love to hear any of your comments about what else you might have observed. If you’d like to read more about play, you might want to go the section in the Reading Room on Play, or check out the Dog Play DVD or Play Together,  Stay Together about play between people and dogs. I’ll look forward to reading your comments, and not to mention welcoming Leo back to play with Willie.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: What a treat for it to be winter! If it’s going to be dark at night darn it, at least it can be crisp and pretty. And it is. I am loving the snow on the ground, although it is not much and melting fast. But it’s sunny and lovely and fresh and your boots crunch on the snow while the Chickadees call CHICKA-DEE-DEE-DEE from the woods. Time to take Willie boy and Tootsie girl on a walk. I hope you have some weather you can enjoy too.

Last week I posted a blog about giving our dogs more autonomy, and asked for comments about ideas on how to do so outside of working dogs on sheep. Many of the comments sent in response to that post are extremely helpful, and I encourage you to read through them. However, I know that time is short for many of us, so I’ve summarized some of the best ideas and some of my own this week.

First, as a preface, it is important to note that just like people, dogs vary tremendously in their desire for autonomy. Some dogs are extremely independent and others find too many choices burdensome. That’s why Willie stays in a crate when I’m gone. I am 100% sure that he is more comfortable in his ‘bedroom’ than being left loose in the house. When left loose he’s been a wreck when I returned home; no chewing or defecating, but wild-eyed and panicky. I believe that he perceives himself as “off-duty” in the crate, rather than responsible for alerting the household to noises and unexpected visitors. And who is to respond to his alerts if I am gone?  However… his is just the kind of personality that can gain confidence from having autonomy in other contexts. So, suggestion Number One: know your dog.

In addition, there are some contexts in which some dogs simply can’t be given free choice, whether it’s because they’d never coming back if running off leash in open areas, or you’re walking beside on a busy highway. Bottom line again: Know your dog.

With those caveats, here are some suggestions, especially for people whose dogs can never be off of a leash or line, for ways to give your dogs more choice.

1) Do ask: Ask yourself how often you can change from telling your dog what to do to, into asking your dog questions. Granted, there are plenty of times when we really do require our dogs to do what we say. (Thus, the title, “Do Ask, Do Tell.”) Example: I am not requesting Willie to respond when I say “Stand” (still). Sometimes it doesn’t matter if he listens to this cue, but other times it matters greatly (ie, several 150 pound battering rams (also known as sheep) about to run you over… it happens, believe me), so I need him to stop and stand still every time I say it. How would he know the difference between “you must” and “please” when only I know the context? I can’t imagine how you could mix and match the same cue to sometimes mean “you must” and other times mean “only if you feel like it.”

Job One then is to decide beforehand which cues you use that are not negotiable, and only use those when you expect a response. However, other cues aren’t necessarily that essential.

Here’s an example: When Willie and I play “Find It!” with his frisbee outside, after he’s had a good romp with it in his mouth, shaking and flipping it around. After a few minutes, I ask him to drop it so I can hide it for our Find It game. Although he’ll drop it on cue in other contexts, if we’re outside on the lawn he clearly wants me to throw it for him (I can’t cuz of his shoulder) rather than play Find It. So we’ve had a bit of a struggle when I say Drop It and he doesn’t. Actually, he’ll drop it, but when I reach for it he snatches it up in his mouth again. I’ve countered that by giving it right back to him when he does drop it, knowing that the best reinforcement for giving up the frisbee is getting it back again. I’ve also said “Okay, game over” in a cheerful voice and walked away if he won’t release the frisbee. That has helped, but not completely.

After I wrote the post on autonomy, I found myself watching him grab up the frisbee as I reached for it one morning and thought “Why not switch this around and give Willie the choice? It is a game for him after all.” So this time, rather than saying “Drop It,” I asked him if he was ready for me to take it. “Ready?” I said, and reached toward the disc. Nope, he wasn’t. He dipped his head and took the frisbee back in his mouth. “Okay, I said, no problem.” I stood in the same place, smiling and enjoying the sun shining through the clouds, and then said “Ready?” again. It was a sincere question. He was. When I reached for the toy this time, he watched me with shiny eyes, and stayed in place while I walked to the other side of the house and hid it for him to find. I can’t tell you if it made any difference to him, but it did to me, and that matters too. [Note: I can imagine a context in which Willie would have to drop an item for his own safety, say he picks up something poisonous. In this case I would say NO, which I use to mean absolutely cease and desist whatever you are doing this exact instant. I use it very rarely, and only when I really, really need it.]

2) Autonomy on Leash Walks: This is tricky, because no dog on a line can be truly autonomous. However, you can give him or her some choices:

- Several people noted that they let their dog set the pace. This is a great idea: who said that walking a dog meant keeping it from smelling interesting things? My favorite leash walk combines a) periods of brisk walking during which I get good exercise and Willie/Tootsie trots by my side ignoring all smells and b) the dogs setting the pace (and direction if possible) while I basically follow behind. If I’m getting antsy and Willie is still sniffing, I might say “Ready?” and as often as not he’ll stop sniffing and move forward. If he doesn’t, well then, he’s not ready. What’s important here is to be clear about which is which. Have a clear signal that means he’s following your lead, and a clear signal that means he’s in charge. Dogs learn the difference very fast.

- Explore the world with your dog by picking up things and asking your dog to sniff them. Try sniffing them yourself. I’ve seen dogs stop in their tracks and look you right in the eye as if surprised when you do this. “You? Smelling something? Really???? I didn’t know you could!” Of course, you know I don’t have a clue what your dog is thinking, but it’s fun to guess and even more fun to try to share their world a little bit. You can also hide treats in tree bark and later show your dog where they are. I learned this from Clarissa von Reinhardt’s book Chase, an excellent source of information regarding keeping a dog with you when off leash.

- Extra long leads or Flexi-lead-like leashes can also give your dog more choices. Like many trainers, I’m not a fan of flex-leashes in many contexts (training classes, vet visits, etc.) and don’t like that they teach the dog to habituate to a constant, although minor pulling sensation. That said, life just can’t always be perfect, and these kind of leashes can give lots of dogs some freedom when they would never have it otherwise.

3) Choices in the House: One commenter (thanks!) related this issue to environmental enrichment for wild animals in captivity. Several of the ideas mentioned included give your dog choices about the basics: two water bowls, several sleeping places, a range of toys, etc. You can also swap out toys: Willie must have 50 toys (sigh), but I only keep a limited number out at one time. That way they stay more interesting. Other variants of choices are asking your dog how they’d like to play. One reader has a dog who loves walks and ball play. She holds the leash in one hand and the ball in the other and does whatever he dog indicates with his nose. Great idea!

4) Fun with Food: Besides all the interactive toys that dogs can manipulate to get food, you can use the cheap, easy and always-enthralling method that I use every day with Tootsie. Because she would rather eat cat poop hidden like min-treasure chests in mulch, pine needles and straw, I let her come to the barn with us when I feed the sheep and cats. So I have taken to giving her a twice daily “treasure hunt” in a small fenced area that I call the “play pen.” I take a handful of kibble from her daily quota, and throw it as if I was scattering seeds. She then spends 10-15 minutes finding it, piece by piece, while Willie and I do the barn chores. She has a great time, her mouth doesn’t smell like cat poop, nor does she ingest heaven knows what. You may not have a fenced area, but you can do this inside too.

5) Honor your dog’s bark: This is a great reader comment that I completely support. Although we do have to be careful to not inadvertently reinforce barking, many dogs bark less if you acknowledge their alert signals and respond in some way to them. Willie could be a horrific barker, and I won’t pretend that there aren’t times he barks when I wish he wouldn’t, but like many of my client’s dogs, he calms down fastest if I acknowledge his barking. Just last night he lept up and began barking wild-eyed at the door to the garage. I went to him, asked him what was wrong and investigated. Sure enough, a side door was banging in the wind. I closed it, said “Hey, Willie, we’re fine,” and then took him into the living room. This won’t help with all dogs, but I envision lots of dogs screaming in frustration that their pack member is oblivious to their warnings or requests for assistance. Bottom line here: Barking isn’t always bad. (See more on this in Turid Rugaas’s book, Barking -  The Sound of a Language.)

5) Problem Solving: Some interactive food toys are in this category, but we can also ask our dogs to use their heads and solve other kinds of problems. Ask your dog to come to you with a barrier in between and help them learn to go around the side. Think of the world as an obstacle course and start asking your dog to go through, over and under objects both inside and outside of the house (with obvious concerns for safety). Some problem solving turns out to be a dog creating a new way of doing something. Here’s a great example: Finna’s owner wanted to teach her to  use a treadmill, but when Finna came up with a new way to do so, she was encouraged. Another reader has taught her dog the cue “Figure it out!” meaning: figure out yourself how to open this door, box, or get the food out of something. Problem solving at its best and too wonderful!

Another reader wrote about the body awareness work she is doing, in which a dog is asked to “Get on This” with all 4 paws, but ‘this’ is highly variable in terms of size, shape and surface. It’s the dog’s job to figure out how to get on and stay on. I love this kind of thinking… isn’t this what dogs who live freer lives would be doing all the time? Learning where one’s back paws are, learning body awareness of any area surely is as good for dogs as it is for people. Susan Garrett has a video on this, worth checking out.

6)  And finally, back to the nose: Engage your dog’s nose whenever you can, it truly seems to make them happy. I see people work so hard to keep their dogs from smelling things (“Don’t sniff that poop. Don’t sniff the garbage. Don’t Don’t Don’t…”) But it must be difficult for them to be restricted from using their best sense so often. We can turn that around easily. I often let the dogs sniff things that I bring home from the market, or anywhere else. They seem to enjoy it immensely. The easiest cue in the world, as a matter of fact, is “Sniff, sniff.” Just hold something out toward your dog and as he moves his head forward to investigate, say “Sniff, sniff.” It has broadened my sense of the world, and it feels (we all know I’m only guessing) like the dogs appreciate it. Several people who commented mentioned this too, so join the pack and give it a try!

That’s a start anyway, more ideas always welcome. By the way, one reader asked for a discussion about autonomy versus NILIF. Great question, and definitely worth discussing, but it deserves its own blog….

And here, just for fun, is one of my favorite comments about this topic: My dogs would probably say that one of their favorite autonomous times is deciding which dog bed in the sunny window or which forbidden couch to sleep on when we are at work. And how about the cat that insisted on being allowed to solve problems for himself? The perfect reminder that many of our companion animals still need dignity and choice in their life.

Thanks to all of you who added your smarts and experience to the requests of others for ideas. You came through, as usual, brilliantly.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm. Thank you all so much for your good wishes about the wedding. Jim and I are still floating on oxytocin, although in a buzz for the Texas Two-Step Tour coming up. (I’m writing this on Wednesday the 7th, but I’ll post on Friday as usual when I’ll actually be speaking in Texas.)

The cycle of life at the farm continues. All the lambs have been taken to market, never an easy day for us. But it helped that we just brought King Charles over to Redstart from his c0-owner’s farm to begin the cycle again. (He is named after KC Spaniels, because he seemed so tiny when he first arrived.) I’m happy to say the King Charles is doing is work with enthusiasm.

To keep it simple, we loaded King Charles with the help of the buck goat he had been living with. Buck boy was happy to walk on a halter up to the trailer and King Charles was happy to follow him. Loading was relatively easy because of the way cool trailer Jim built this summer that is easy in/easy out for the sheep. After loading it was only a few miles drive to the farm, and then Willie brought the ewes out to the front lawn as a magnet for King Charles. Much easier than backing the trailer through the mud into the sheep pen.

King Charles went to work right away, sniffing each ewe in turn. Here he is checking out Lady Godiva, who was far more interested in the grass than the new guy in town. (Notice the red color on his chest: It’s called marking paint and it allows us to know when each ewe has been bred, because it rubs off on their butts as he mounts them.)

Spot attracted much more than a quick sniff. He tried to mount her right away on the front lawn, but she wouldn’t stand still for him until later when they were back in the barn pen. Perhaps she just wanted a little privacy? I checked the pen an hour later, and both Spot and Buttercup had clearly been bred. Good boy KC, good boy.

How much autonomy does your dog have?  Willie’s work with sheep is  what motivates me to ask this question. As I mentioned earlier, Willie and I attended a sheepdog clinic 2 weeks ago with Patrick Shannahan, and the big take away for us was that, too often, Willie looks to me to tell him what to do while working sheep. It’s not that he doesn’t know what to do himself, he’s just in the habit of being dependent upon me to tell him before he takes action on his own. This was not a complete surprise to me, but I didn’t realize what a significant issue it was until I worked with Patrick.

I think I know why this has happened: First, Willie is a naturally biddable dog and dependent dog. I chose him over his 7-week old brother because Willie seemed to care deeply about where I was and what I was doing, while his sibling was busy independently exploring the universe. In spite of a long list of serious problems that developed in Willie’s youth (projectile diarrhea, a ridiculous level of sound sensitivity, a pathological fear of unfamiliar dogs and an extreme problem with impulse control) Willie has always been an especially responsive dog.

Here’s a recipe for a dog unwilling to act independently: Mix 1) Willie’s personality with 2) 14 months of recovery from a shoulder injury in which one is a virtual prisoner. After his injury in early February, we tried complete leash rest for all of Feb and March. When that clearly wasn’t enough, we decided on the surgery, but Jim’s sister was dying of ovarian cancer, so we put the surgery off until May. After the surgery he basically lived in his crate for 1-2 months, and then gradually was allowed to do carefully structured physical therapy, all under my control, until January of the next year. Gradually after that he was allowed limited amounts of free time, but basically we are talking a about a dog who lost all autonomy whatsoever for a significant period of his life, an inevitable response to his recovery. Don’t get me wrong, he got lots of mental exercise: I spent over 2 hours a day with him on PT (which he saw as games) and any trick he was allowed to do, but the fact is that he went from a dog who was outside off leash for hours a day to a dog whose every movement was controlled and monitored. He came out of it thrilled to be able to play with his toys again (14 months after the injury) and get his life back, but lost a lot of confidence working sheep.

My job with sheepdog Willie right now is to let him make a lot of decisions on his own. I’m providing feedback (“Yup, that’s right,” or “Nope, that was not the right decision.”) or just letting the work speak for itself. Willie has enough experience to know when things are going well, so often I’m just shutting up. (Never the easiest job for a dog trainer, right?) I can’t tell you how this is going to translate onto a trial field next year, but we are having the most fun I think we have ever had working together. It’s wonderful, just wonderful.

I’m relaying this story to you because I think the issue of autonomy is highly relevant to companion dogs everywhere. A journalist asked me once, “What do dogs want?” And I answered that, beside the obvious primal needs of food, water and shelter, dogs want 1) positive social interactions and 2) opportunities to make decisions on their own. Certainly too many dogs still suffer from a lack of social interaction, being tied up in backyards or kenneled by themselves until hunting season begins. But I suspect that many beloved dogs who are surrounded by love and attention suffer from a lack of freedom of choice. Of course, we can’t know for sure, we aren’t dogs, but sometimes it is useful to compare the needs of two different species, especially if they share so much and live together. As humans, being able to make choices about our lives is our most important possession. It is one of the things that we take for granted until we lose it, like water to drink and good health. Only when it is lost do we realize how precious it is. Ask prisoners about their time in confinement and they will tell you that the worst thing about it is having no autonomy. Want ice cream after dinner? Too bad, not being served. Want to stay up a little later one night and read? Sorry, lights out at 10. Most of us haven’t had that experience, but we can remember when we first had some control over our lives as teenagers. and the giddy joy of being free to make decisions on our own about what to do at any given moment in time.

It is certainly true that many companion dogs have little autonomy, and that is not always a bad thing. They go outside when their owners open the door, not having learned yet how to open doors on their own (thank heavens).  They are often on leashes, and therefore safe from being hit by car. But they are also unable to make decisions about where to turn, which way to go, and how long to spend on one spot. Their elimination behavior is controlled by us once they are house trained. Granted, gazillions of them pick up one of their numerous toys and decide when it’s play time by dropping it in our laps, and plenty of dogs have got their owners pretty well trained….

But, still, compared to feral or free-ranging dogs in other countries, some of our own companion dogs live relatively constrained lives. Granted, they often get better medical care than most people, organic food and acupuncture, but you could argue that they also lose something in the process. Author Ted Kerasote talks about this as well as anyone in his book Merle’s Door, and if you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. (And FYI, he has a new book coming out in February, Pukka’s Promise: The Quest For Longer Lived Dogs. It is beautifully written, extremely thought-provoking and summarizes five years of kick ass research. Here’s part of what I wrote about it for the back cover: “…one of the most important books written about dogs in a decade.” I’ll write a real review of it long before it is released.)

There are many ways dogs can have more autonomy as companions who can’t safely run free or work sheep: Some of them are small things, like asking a dog if he is “Ready” to do something or not. (See discussions about this in an earlier blog.) Leash walks can be directed by dogs as often as by their owners. (“Which way do you want to go?”) I think most important to dogs is to be able to explore the out of doors off leash. There’s nothing like a long walk in which a dog is allowed to run here, sniff there, and be free to explore at his or her own pace to make a dog healthy and happy. Nose games for dogs are great too: dogs get to play to their strengths and make decisions based on their natural abilities. I’ve seen many dogs who gained confidence and what only can be called joie de vivre after playing nose games with their owners.

I’d love to hear more ideas from you about how to give dogs more autonomy, especially ones who can’t safely run free in their home neighborhoods, or anywhere else for that matter. I expect a lot of dogs and owners too will profit from hearing your ideas.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm. I’ve recently heard from three of the people who adopted the kittens who were born on the farm this summer. All kittens are doing wonderfully. One kitten is best friends with the family dog, and cuddles up with him every night. One kitten is a fireball, and her owners adopted a second kitten to give the older resident cat a break! All the kittens seem healthy and happy, and it makes me happier than I can say that of the 12 feral kittens born in my and my neighbor’s barns, all 12 are in good homes, well taken care of and will be spayed or neutered to prevent more feral cats roaming the woods. Speaking of, it’s time for kitten Polly to get spayed too. Time flies.

And, oh yeah, one more piece of news: After twelve wonderful years of being each others best friend, Jim and I are getting married tonight. I’m thinking you’ll forgive me for taking the night off and staying off line…?  Happy Dance.

Here’s Willie this morning, driving the sheep away from me. His job here is to keep them going in a straight line.

Notice how the sheep are beginning to drift to the right. Rather than telling Willie to counter that, I stayed quiet and let him take care of it. You can see him already starting to shift to his right too.

The sheep are still drifting right, but Willie is continuing to counter.

Voila. Sheep moved back into the correct position. Willie did it all on his own, and I managed to keep my mouth shut. Will miracles never cease?

This is an authentic question: ie, I don’t have the answer. But it’s a great question, posed by a seminar attendee, and also by someone who reads the blog. Do dogs think we are mutant dogs? Pathetic replicates who never grow out of our flat, puppy faces (we never grow muzzles) and can’t use our mouths but make up for it endearingly with our cute, floppy paws? And surely they believe we can’t smell–at all. My guy Jim speculated that just as people often assume that animals can’t [fill-in-the-blanks: think in abstractions or strategize or be conscious) because they can’t do it with the depth of skill that we do, perhaps dogs assume we can’t smell anything at all, because we are so horrifically bad at it.

On the one hand, you could argue that dogs behave toward us as they do other dogs: they signal us in ways that are exactly the same as they signal other dogs (not that many dogs don’t behave differently around people as they do around dogs, but that the signals they use are the same signals they use to their own species.) They lick our muzzles, they stare cold and hard into our eyes, they growl and posture using all the same movements and expressions that they use around other dogs. One could argue that this suggests they categorize us as some kind of dog-like creature.

On the other hand, we tend to use the same social signals with dogs as we do people (which gets us in no end of trouble, see The Other End of the Leash!), and we know that dogs are a different species. In addition, dogs have no trouble differentiating different types of dogs (I’m always amused when people ask if dogs can tell a Black Lab from a German Shepherd. Wouldn’t it seem that if we can, they can? They are, after all, dogs, and surely they can tell one another apart more easily than we can! They may not use the same categories as we do.. I highly doubt they separate one another into “Herding” and “Sporting!”, but surely it is obvious to them how profoundly different we are from dogs.) Wouldn’t it be obvious to dogs that we’re NOT dogs? Just our smell alone would make it profoundly obvious.

But, if we’re not disabled dogs, who are we to our dogs? How are we thought of? Ahh… and here’s the real question… Do dogs think of such things at all? Perhaps this is a question a dog has never asked? Perhaps we are just who we are, and dogs have no need to put us into some taxonomic category that makes our brains happy but might be irrelevant to theirs…. but, then, surely they must have some way to identifying living creatures in the world around them. Friend? Foe? Prey? Weird, monster like thing that can not be explained?

This could get circular, but I am very interested in your thoughts on this….

Meanwhile, back at the farm: The birds are emptying the feeders at a heck of rate, I can barely keep them full. Now that it’s gotten colder and many of the insects are gone, the suet and black oil sunflower seed are especially attractive. We have many species coming daily now, the usual Southern Wisconsin mixed species flocks of Black capped Chickadees, Tufted Titmice (don’t look at me, I didn’t give them a common species name), White Breasted Nuthatches, Downy, Hairy & Red-Bellied Woodpeckers, Goldfinch, Purple or House Finch (have to check, we have had both, haven’t paid enough attention last few days), Blue Jays, Cardinals and Doves. More will come as it gets colder, including the Red Breasted Nuthatch (oh so cute).

Here’s a Chickadee… I thought this photo looked like a painting as much as a photograph:

Here’s the Tufted Titmouse, perched and then with a sunflower seed. Notice how s/he holds the seed on the branch with the feet, and then pecks through the shell and extracts the seed.

What a great conversation we’ve had about these behaviors in dogs. I originally posted on this topic on October 10th, and the comments in response have been fascinating. For those of you who’d rather not read through them, I’ll summarize them here, and add some information I’ve found elsewhere.

First of all, I did look at some of the wolf literature (still waiting to hear from folks who work with wolves), and I did find that Zimen, an internationally respected wolf ethologist, discusses 2 of these behaviors in his wolf sociogram in Wolves of the World. I’ll add his comments in the relevant section.

MUZZLES PUNCHES/POKES: As best I could, I categorized your responses about the context of muzzle punches into 4 categories: Excited/Playful, Attention Getting, Warnings with potential Aggressive Intent and Affectionate. Here’s how the responses sorted out (as of this writing, there were 81 responses, note some responses contained multiple examples):

Excited/Playful 14

Attention Getting 30

Warnings: 13

Affectionate: 0

The consensus is strong, and I couldn’t agree more, that context and other postural signals mean everything here. Several of you, wisely, distinguished between ‘muzzle punches’ and ‘muzzle pokes,’ the former being much more forceful than the latter. I appreciate that distinction–I am going to start calling much of what I used to call a ‘punch’ a ‘poke’ (is there a song here?). I also agree completely that, as someone quoted me (thank you!) “It depends,” as being the answer to all behavioral questions.

A muzzle punch given to the face from a dog who had been giving you a hard, cold stare directly into your eyes is something altogether different from a dog who pokes you in the back of the leg to, presumably, get your attention. I would be extremely concerned about a dog who gave me a hard, direct stare and then ‘muzzle punched’ me.

It seems to me there are at least three messages here: Pokes: 1) YO! YOU! Pay attention to ME! or 2) YO! YOU! Wanna chase me? Wanna play? Wanna react in some way for heaven’s sake?” and (Punch) 3) I’m warning you… back off. I also think there is a possibly 4th component here related to herding dogs. Willie changed from biting at my ankles as a puppy when I ran to the phone into muzzle punching the back of my leg when I ran to the phone to racing 2 inches behind me while I turned my head and said “Willlllllll……….” to keep him from punch/poking the back of my leg as I run to the phone. I’ve seen this kind of reactivity and mouthiness in a lot of herding dogs. Yesterday Will played with a 6 month old BC puppy who has just started trying to grab at anything that moves, in this case a walking stick. Will does the same thing: pick up a hose, and Will wants to grab it. Pick up a lamb, and Will wants to grab it. In the case of the pup, it was very clear that it was extremely  hard for him not to react to the moving stick…..GOTTA STOP THAT THING FROM MOVING!!!

I was interested that Zimen described these muzzle poke/punches (exactly as done to Tulip in the video from the first post) as a wolf “quickly pushing its nose into the other’s fur…”. He categorizes it as a neutral social contact, neither offensive or defensive, and speculates that it relates to “olfactory control.” I’m not sure what he means by that, and I’m not convinced that when dogs do it it has anything to do with scent. Although.. I’ve taught Will to sniff on cue (not exactly rocket science, hey?) and I’ve found that he will often push his nose into something I’m holding him to smell. But then, I’ve taught him “Touch” too, and my guess is that he’s confounding the two a bit….

AIR SNAPS

Excited/Playful 14

Attention Getting 1

Warnings: 11

Affectionate: 1

Interesting difference with “Muzzle Punches,” hey? Several of you have seen your dogs do it in what sounds like appropriate play, but only one of you described it in an Attention Getting context. Regarding “Aggressive warning” versus “Playful”, surely this is yet another example of context and other signals being critical to interpretation. Thinking back (always dangerous), it does seem to me that I’ve mostly seen them in a context I’d either describe as a warning (in response to “Lie Down” for example, with direct stare to my face) or in play. Again, it seems that an air snap from a playful dog with a loose body, partially open mouth, squinty eyes would mean something very different than a dog who turned and snapped at your hand while you were trying to groom. That may be one important distinction: is there any obvious target of the snap, or is the dog just snapping in the air?

TOOTH CLACKING

Excited/Playful 10

Attention Getting 3

Warnings: 3

Affectionate:0

Clearly, fewer of you have seen this behavior, and I have to say I’ve probably seen it least of the 3 myself. I have seen a few client’s dogs who stared right at my face and tooth clacked, usually in response to a cue I had given them (similar to the lie down cue above.). In that case I perceived it as a warning. Like many of you, I’ve seen dogs do it when they were aroused, usually during play. One of you mentioned, and I thought this was very interesting, that her dogs did it after their arousal levels increased during play, and the play stopped (arousal inhibition?) for a while after the clacking.

Zimen, by the way, calls this “Snap Clatter,” I lovely description I wish I’d thought of myself. He describes it in the packs he’s watched as an “Aggressive Behavior involving inhibited biting,” and as a “noisy beat made by the teeth when jaws hit together.” It is very different from the much more rapid jaw movement of an extremely excited dog, which most people call Tooth Chattering. By the way, there are 3 other actions that were introduced by your comments: Smiling, Nibbling and the Jaw Chattering associated with “Flehman,” when male mammals test urine for the presence of the molecules associated with oestrous cycles. I think smiling deserves its own post (as requested) and to the commentor whose dog nibbles on her like an ear of corn, Yes! It’s social grooming and is motivated by affiliative and friendly behavior. No fleas on you!

Here are two photos, taken by a vet student friend and colleague (and owner of the lovely Dobbie, Miska) illustrating another posutre described by Zimen: He simply calls it “Imposing  Behavior” in which one wolf stands next to another, body lifted as if by balloons, head up and tail up.  Miska is the ONLY dog that Will has ever met who is faster than he is, and she is one of the only females he has played with very much (mostly due to who he’s met, I can’t say yet if he has a gender preference). In my mind, Will is absolutely gobsmacked by Miska. He can’t get enough of playing with her, tries to stop her forward motion whenever he can (a few weeks ago he ran in front of her and lunged toward her, she responded with a half a second worth of bitch fury (she was most appropriate). After that, Willie was even more enamored of her (it seemed) but ran outruns around her rather than body blocks, air snaps or muzzle punches to stop her moving forward. He appears to be fascinated by her, but is very nervous–tongue flick-ey, snake headed, Willie’s evil twin-y in the house. (ie, he’s terrified of not being able to control her in the house, which seems vitally important to him.)

Pretty gorgeous, isn’t she! I love Will’s face in this one and the image of 6 month old Max trying to keep up and play with the big kids…. Thanks to Lesanna for the photos! Me thinks Willie’s in love.

A friend and colleague (Toni Ziegler, an internationally known primatologist) sent me an article in a journal I usually never see, Hormones and Behavior, and I was sure you’d be as interested in it as I am. The authors, M. Nagasawa et. al., found a correlation between the level of an owner’s oxytocin and how much their dog tended to gaze directly at them.

First off, you probably know that oxytocin is the “feel good” hormone that is associated with lactation and social bonding. Someone called it the “wine and candle light” hormone, because it seems to play an important role in social relationships and feelings of trust and affection. (People are more trusting of strangers if oxytocin is sprayed into their nose–leading me to speculate in For the Love of a Dog that we should all be armed with a spray bottle of the stuff). Oxytocin correlates with friendly social behavior in rats, monkey, sheep, you name it, and even has been found to calm “depressive tendencies” and anxiety in people.

The authors of the study first surveyed 55 people to evaluate the level of relationship with their dogs. (They asked: “How much are you satisfied with your dog?” and “How much do you feel you can communicate with your dog?” Of course, if I’d been asking, my questions might include “How often to you rub your dog’s belly?” and “How important is your dog in your overall happiness?” and “How many months would you say you spend more on your dog than yourself?” and “Don’t you think you should consider buying yourself a new pair of pants before you buy another dog toy?” But then, it wasn’t my study….)

Each owner/dog pair then came to the researchers, and was video taped in a room with the owner sitting in a chair. At first the owner was alone in the room for 20 minutes, then the dog was allowed in for 30 minutes. Once inside, the dog was allowed to move around the room freely, but was asked to sit on cue every 3 minutes. The owners could talk to their dogs and pet them, but not give the dogs treats. Before and after, the owner’s heart rate and blood pressure was taken, and they were asked to provide a urine sample both before and after as well.

Here are some of the results: The 55 owners sorted into 2 groups: 12 of them reported high levels of satisfaction with their dogs and ALSO had the longest duration of times that their dog’s looked (“gazed”) at them during the experiment. Those people, whose dogs looked at them the most, also had significantly higher levels of oxytocin after the experiment than the people who reported lower levels of satisfaction and whose dogs looked at them for shorter periods of time. Additionally, there was a significant correlation between the frequency of “exchange bouts” (looking, talking) initiated by a dog’s gaze and the level of oxytocin in the owner’s body. In other words, the more the dog looked at the owner, the higher the level of oxytocin IF the owner was one of the one who reported a high level of satisfaction in their dog. There was no correlation between duration of gaze and oxytocin levels in the (larger) group who reported less satisfaction and whose dogs looked at them for shorter periods of time.

What does all this mean? Well, if you put your science hat on, you know to be careful of correlations. It seems reasonable and (common sensible) to argue that IF you are strongly bonded to your dog, then you have a surge of oxytocin when he or she looks at you and you look back. (I think my oxytocin is rising right now, just thinking about Lassie’s face!). However, I’ve always wondered if some individuals inherently have lower levels of oxytocin and that makes them less affiliative with others, a bit more stand off-ish. Dogs too? Could that explain why some dogs are puddles around people and others more aloof? Levels of oxytocin do correlate in mice, for example, with less or more affiliative behavior, so it seems reasonable that it could occur in people too.

That could create another hypothesis for the results. Do people with inherently higher levels of oxytocin tend to be more bonded to their dogs? However, a good study should account for this, and indeed, there were no significant differences between oxytocin levels before the experiment between the 2 groups of people. So it looks as though it was the interaction itself, during the 30 minutes that the dog and owner were together, that increased oxytocin levels. Although none of us can accurately guage our oxytocin levels without measurements, I swear there’s a feeling I get that correlates with an oxytocin surge. It’s the way you feel when you look at a puppy, or a kitten, or a two year old child… and get what I can only describe as “goo-ey” and “warm” and just overwhelmed with loving feelings. Know what I mean? Do you thank that is part of what makes a dog a “forever” dog or a “heart dog?”

Whether we can feel  it or not, oxytocin has got to be good for us. Remember when I said that oxytocin decreases anxiety? It seems to have a positive effect on many systems: it is produced in the hypothalamus and decreases activity of what’s called the “hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis” (use that when you want to be cool, you could also just call it the stress response though!) In other words, more oxytocin, less adrenalin, less anxiety, less immune suppression, etc. We’ve always known our dogs are good for us (mostly… unless, uh, they’re not), but here’s a biological explanation for it beyond the fact that they make us feel good.

Speaking of oxytocin (with apologies for indulging myself), here’s a photograph I found last night, buried in files on my computer. I wasn’t going to use it, but it makes me all goo-ey and oxytocin-y to look at it, so I thought it was relevant. It’s of me and my Tulip long ago, several years before she passed away. Here’s hoping you have a dog right now that raises your oxytocin too.

And here’s another feel good picture, fall leaves that fell this weekend after a hard, hard freeze.

xxx

I am not sure if the title is more reminiscent of canid communication or some strange, alien kind of cookies, but let’s go with the former. I’m writing this post because I’d love your interpretation of 3 canid behaviors that we’ve been discussing in the comments on one of my posts. I had mentioned a “muzzle punch” somewhere, and in response one commenter inquired if an air snap or muzzle punch was more predictive of a potential bite. Here, in part, is my response and a video with a great example of a muzzle punch from one dog to another: ["Muzzle punching" being a quick forward motion of the muzzle, jaws completely shut, making contact with another individual, "Air snaps" are when a dog moves exactly as if biting, but bites the air instead of an individual or object. Some people just call these 'snaps', meaning the mouth opened and shut but there was no object between the jaws. "Tooth clacking" is when the mouth is opened and shut rapidly several times in a row, and there's a very clear noise of teeth snapping together.]

Here’s from my comment:
“I’m not sure anyone knows the answers about comparative levels of intensity [of the 3 behaviors] and whether they are universal or not (some dogs seem to only muzzle punch, some only tooth clack or air snap.) I do know that “muzzle punching” can be done at varying levels of intensity. Will does it on occasion on the back of my leg when I have run into another area and (I suspect) am not doing what he wants me to do. I take it as a slightly rude, but not aggressive “Yo! You!” It most often happens when I’ve been moving fast, and I suspect in his case it also relates to his strong-eyed herding tendencies.

I don’t say that as an excuse; when Will does it I’ll turn and say his name in a quiet but shocked voice and go back to working on teaching what I do want (Will go slow when Trisha goes fast). His “punches” are more like taps–they can be felt but are not in the slightest bit painful. In 20 + years I have seen one or two dogs punch their owners so hard that they caused discomfort or pain, but that seems very rare to me as I look back on it. Usually they are much more benign. I would love to know what others think of them, how they are interpreted. . .

I’ve always taken air snaps and tooth clacking (mouth opened and shut rapidly, very clear noise of teeth snapping) as more of a threat than a muzzle punch. But I’ll have to think long and hard about why I say that. I”m going to write some of my friends who work with wolves and ask what they observe. Tooth clacks usually seem to be given as a dog is directly facing a person, often looking right into their eyes, and they have always felt to me like “Hear that? Those are teeth! Big, white, sharp, bit-ey teeth! And I know how to use ‘em!” This is not the same as a dog who is doing “tooth chattering,” which is a much faster action, sounds more like the dog is shivering, and usually seen in dogs who are highly aroused and barely able to contain themselves (could be aroused in any way). I don’t see “tooth chattering” as a social signal, while I think “tooth clacking” is. Air snaps also occur more as threats to me than muzzle punches. There’s just something about a dog purposefully (I would argue) keeping his or her mouth shut that I find meaningful. I would LOVE your thoughts on this, and I’ll do some more research on it next week.  The video is at the end of this post (of Kalladin, an adolescent collie and Tulip, my Pyr, at the farm in the “play pen.

Meanwhile, back at the farm: Not much time at the farm now, leaving in a few hours to speak at the Border Collie National Specialty. Lassie threw up 5 times this morning, oh dear oh dear. I know.. dogs throw up a lot, but you know, she’s 15+ with compromised kidneys.  I talked to my vet, gave her pepcid, extra water for dehydration. She seems fine now, wanted breakfast (gave her a tiny amount as a test, all went well), so I’ll wait and see, but damn I just hate this….. she’s probably totally fine. I’ll keep you posted.

Here’s the video (watch closely, it happens FAST! I use it in seminar to train trainers to be good observers!):


Well, I had wanted to write about a book one of you asked about: The Wolf in the Parlor, but life seems to have its own schedule and I have only just started it. It is one of the gazillion books I am sent by publishers to review and I have to admit I have a hard time keeping up. (But I’d miss them if they didn’t come! It’s one of those high quality problems.) The book is by Pulitzer prize winning science writer Jon Franklin and has received rave reviews from the kind of places that authors dream of (Publisher’s Weekly, Booklist etc.)

As I said, I’ve just started it, but I can tell you that the book’s main thesis is that people and dogs, around 12,000 years ago, linked their evolutionary paths together and evolved socially and physically to take on supportive roles. He argues, according to the reviews, that humans lost some of our brain power because dogs took over those functions, and dogs lost some of theirs because we became their protectors and nurturers. It sounds interesting, although admittedly, a bit far-fetched to me (what of all those cultures in which dogs are considered pests?  what about all the others things that happened around 12,000 years ago, like the domestication of plants?), but I will finish it this weekend with interest. I’m all in favor of speculation; even if it turns out to be dead wrong, it causes us to do a lot of thinking.

I have to admit, with apologies to the author, that I was originally put off when he begins by explaining that most of his life he thought dogs were of little interest. Along with his hypothesis of why dogs and humans are so closely linked together, the book includes his personal journal from the land of dog-neutral to the world of dog lover.  Although I suspect I will appreciate his journey, it struck me a bit at first as yet another “I didn’t understand and now I do and so you should too” books that plop themselves in book store windows on a daily basis. How many thousands of books are written by people who start out depressed or totally disorganized or not caring about animals, and then have an epiphany and want to tell us all about it and how now they get it and we should too.

Oh dear, I sound so cynical. My apologies. Perhaps I’m just a tad tuckered, having gotten home late at night after speaking at the Humane Animal Welfare Society in Waukesha WI about cat behavior. Don’t get me wrong, I had a ball, it is SO fun to talk about cats and their behavior with other cat lovers, but it’s a long drive and I didn’t get home til after 11 pm. This from the girl who likes to be in bed by 9:30!)

On the up side, even in the early pages, Jon writes beautifully about how a standard poodle named Charlie wormed his way into his heart and mind, and integrates the personal part of his world with his life as a science writer. He mentions that science writers are, in a way, like old time naturalists, in that they know a little bit about all aspects of science: a rare occurrence now in the age of specialization. It will be interesting to see how his personal relationship with a dog and his intellectual knowledge as a science writer blend together into speculation about the origins of our relationship and our eventual evolution.

The other book that’s getting a lot of media attention right now is Alexandra Horowitz’s book, Inside of a Dog. That’s sitting on my desk, and it would be wagging it’s tail for attention if it could. I’ll pick that one up next!

What about you? Have you read either of these? What books have you picked up recently that you found especially interesting?  Send them in, and then I can have an even bigger pile of books to read beside the couch!

Meanwhile, back at the farm: All is well, at least it will be if I ever get out of the office and outside. There are weeds that need pulling, windows that need washing, sheep that need worming, vegetables that need cooking, apples that need collecting, and most importantly, dogs that need a lot more attention than they’ve gotten this week. I have one more thing I HAVE to do today (ignoring the endless lists of SHOULDS) and then I’m out of here. Oh boy, Willie and Lassie, here I come!

And here’s a little fall color, I’ll be wallowing in it soon!

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

AFRICAN WILD DOGS  Lycaon pictus:

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

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

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

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