THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

A long, long time ago I had an intact male Border Collie (my first BC ever, Drift), who appeared to be failing his job as a stud dog. Although his escort, the lovely Tib, could not have been more clear that she was ready to be bred, Drift couldn’t seem to get the job done. Tib would prance around Drift all shiny-eyed, literally throw her rump in his face and flag her tail so far over to the side that I wondered if it might break off. Drift behaved as though he got the message loud and clear, and would enthusiastically mount Tib from behind. But then he would make one or two thrusts, and his entire body would appear to deflate (not to mention his equipment) while he slumped off to the side. Tib would respond by again throwing her rump at his head and flagging (the clarity of a female dog’s intent when performing this action is impressive, if not almost embarrassing), Drift would mount her anew and again slide off as if someone put a pin in a balloon.

With time running out, female dogs don’t ovulate for all that long after all, I drove both dogs to the UW Vet School to see if something was wrong with Drift or Tib. Nope, they both checked out fine. One of the specialists there suggested I try artificial insemination, and proceeded to school me on how to do just that. If you want to know what it was like to have a 6’6″ man ask me if I knew how to “collect a sample,” and then use my thumb and his hand to demonstrate stimulating Drift to ejaculate, you will have to buy me a martini and ask after I’ve drunk the entire thing. Fast.

I never did have to collect a sample. I figured out the problem by putting on my ethologist’s hat and watching the two dogs carefully as they courted. Once I did, I noticed that right before Drift slumped off, his head turned one or two inches toward me. Humm. I moved to the other side, and sure enough, this time Drift’s head turned the other direction, but again toward me. I then put the two dogs in the garage and left them alone. When I came back in five minutes they were tied (and the breeding was indeed successful.) Here’s what I think was happening: Drift was a two-year old intact male when I got him, and just a few days after bringing him home he enthusiastically began to mount and thrust against the leg of a female friend of mine. I said “NO!” in surprise, and said the same a few weeks later when he tried it on another friend. I suspect that Drift remembered that I had corrected him for mounting, and did not distinguish between mounting my friend’s leg from mounting a female dog in heat.

I tell you this story because 1) it still amuses me even many years later, and 2) it illustrates that what we call “mounting” can occur in a variety of contexts and most probably has a variety of motivations. I am writing about this topic because it is one of the ones requested by readers, and I think it is a great one. One comment mentioned that “mounting” is often labeled as a sign of “dominance,” and yet the dog she has that does it most often is extremely submissive in all other contexts. The reader correctly questions whether mounting is really just about the D word…

Which brings up the question: Why do dogs mount others, anyway? Clearly Drift was mounting Tib to copulate with her, but why did he mount the legs of my girlfriends? Dominance? Mis-placed sexual stimulation? Doubtful on all counts. No one really knows why dogs mount others outside of reproductive activity, but here are the best guesses of a variety of experts:

1. Excitement or arousal: I love the way Peter Borchelt, a fellow CAAB, puts it: “There are only so many behaviors a dog has access to, and dogs do what is part of their species-typical behavior.” In other words, arousal causes individuals to want to do something, and since dogs can’t take photographs of each other or check email, one of the actions they can perform when they are excited is to mount each other. Arousal can be positive (yippee!) or negative (I’m so nervous), but it usually, like anger, asks for some kind of action.

2. Attention-getting or play solicitation: Notice me! Notice me! Surely it is hard to ignore a dog who is clasping your hindquarters…..

3. Status related: Certainly this could be true in some circumstances, especially if the mounter in question is also exhibiting postures usually associated with priority access to preferred resources (direct stares, high head and tail postures, etc.) However, Mark Bekoff, in his blog about mounting, mentioned that he found no correlation between mounting, clasping or humping & dominance in young dogs, coyotes and wolves. On the other hand, Camille Ward, in her PhD research, found that mounting was one of the few play behaviors she studied that was”asymmetric,” in that while two playing dogs alternated who chased whom, they did not alternate who mounted whom. Dog A may mount Dog B, but not vice versa.

4. Control: I consider this a very different category than the one above (although I notice that they are often mentioned together.) Here’s an example of what I think of as control-motivated mounting: Dog A observes two others playing enthusiastically, perhaps barking and growling while they do. Dog A is a sound-sensitive dog, or a dog who becomes anxious around increasing energy levels, and so moves in, mounts one dog as a way of stopping the action. We often call these dogs the “play police,” right?

There’s more to this story. How do you define mounting? Does mounting always include clasping and thrusting? What about what is called “Standing Over,” in which one dog stands at right angles to another and puts its forelegs over the shoulders of another dog. Is that a version of mounting, or something different altogether?

If you are interested in reading more about this topic, I refer you to the excellent article written by Julie Hecht (the author of the great blog Dogspies) in Bark magazine and a post by Mark Bekoff also about the topic. If you like watching and evaluating videos, here is one that includes both “standing over” and full scale “mounting” during plays sessions between Willie, and 2 young dogs. I’d love to hear what you think about what you are observing. I’ll check back early next week and chime in myself.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: If I was reading this blog I’d be getting tired of hearing complaints about the weather, and how it was 3 degrees Farenheit yesterday morning and we are all somewhat stunned at the relentless, and untimely grip of winter. So, no more complaints (although you noticed I already managed to do so?), but a few words of concern for the Redwing Blackbird and Starling males who have arrived back from the south in order to claim the best territory before the younger males arrive. They may get the best territory, but then, they may starve to death too, because there is pretty much nothing but snow and ice out there to eat right now. Normally it would be in the mid-40′s and things would be starting to thaw out and even grow.

Here IS some good news: Willie and I pushed the sheep up the snow-covered hill in a desperate attempt to try to work sheep again, weather be damned. The flock, understandably, would have preferred staying in the barn yard, thank you very much, and my lead ewe Barbie turned and faced off Willie, her head down and her message clear. “Come any closer and I’ll smash you.” Willie and Barbie have had a long history together, with Barbie getting the upper hand since his surgery, at least if she felt strongly about not going where Willie told her to. But this time Willie stood firm and met her challenge, and darn if she didn’t soon turn her head and stomp through the snow. Willie will never win points for his inherent bravery (me neither) but he beat her fair and square a few days ago and we both walked down the hill a bit taller than we had walked up it.

More good news, for me anyway, is that I’m going off the grid until Monday. It’s spring break at the university and I’ve decided to attempt to wean myself off my iPad and laptop and desk computer and all other devices that keep me connected to a wonderful world but make it harder sometimes to savor the world immediately around me. Katie will post blog and FB comments, I will absolutely adore reading them all when I return to cyberspace.

My photo for this week is one I took for my photo class, of Nellie looking out the garage window. I love how the “stair step” lines of her head and back follow the lines of the cardboard boxes.

Of course! It seems like a simple question, but as is often the case, our big, complicated brains allow us to add nuance to the answer. I’ve gone on record as arguing that yes indeed, mammals like dogs and horses can be happy, how could they not be? Feeling good is a way for the body to tell the brain (as if they were separate, forgive me for this simplistic duality) that it is in an environment that is safe and healthy. The neuro-hormones associated with happiness, like dopamine and oxytocin are shared by all mammals, and expressive mammals like dogs have the same facial expressions as we do when we are happy ourselves. I write about this in the book For the Love of a Dog and show examples in the DVD of the same name.

However, I was reminded that the question has more depth than “can a dog feel happy?” while reading  the book Mental Health and Well-being in Animals, edited by Frank McMillan. It is an excellent book for anyone interested in the mental life of animals, with chapters by Pam Reid, Marian Dawkins (on suffering, always an extremely thoughtful writer), Mark Bekoff, Suzanne Hetts, Temple Grandin, Jaak Panskepp, Bernie Rolland, and on and on. A truly impressive collection of knowledgeable, thoughtful people.

McMillan himself wrote the chapter titled “Do Animals Experience True Happiness?” In it, he reminds us that the concept of “happy” has two meanings: 1) a temporary mood or short term experience (joy, enthusiasm, pleasure) and 2) a long-term state associated with, in his words, “one’s evaluative overview of life.” In other words, there is a difference between being happy the moment you discovered you won a prize, and whether you’d describe your life as a happy one. “We just want you to be happy, dear,” coming from your parents isn’t asking that you have a few seconds of pleasure from a chocolate chip cookie, but rather enjoy a long-term state of satisfaction and contentment with life overall.

McMillan suggests that we use the term “happy” for the short-term state and “happiness” for the long-term one. It’s the “happy life” aspect of happiness that causes people to question whether animals can experience happiness. All biologists I know agree that mammals can experience short term pleasure, but some argue that animals like dogs are not able to evaluate and make judgements about their lives. McMillan writes an extremely thoughtful and thought-provoking article about this issue, arguing in part that animals exhibit many of the same needs that people have in order to achieve long-term happiness (such as control over their environment, a sense of achievement, and comparisons with others).

These are important and interesting arguments, and McMillan ends the article with an anecdote of a Beagle named Billy, whose relentless enthusiasm makes it impossible not to describe him as an animal who experiences happiness. Billy’s case brings us the concept of “set point,” or the well recognized tendency of individuals to have a base level of happiness (or lack thereof) that may be influenced by short term events, but not for long. I’d add that given what we now know about neurobiology and behavior, much of a person’s emotional approach to life is a question of how their brains function, based both on genetics and experience. Thus, it seems to me that “happiness” is not just a matter of cognitive judgements about one’s life, but also about one’s brain function and physiology. Our dogs may not make the same kind of judgements about their lives as we do (Oh, if only I’d…. when I was younger!), but it does seem reasonable that individual mammals have the same set of biological factors that influence whether we are generally cheerful or not as we go through out days. I’ve known so many dogs I’d call truly happy, others I’d categorize as experiencing “happy” times but not true happiness.  You?  Willie, by the way, seems to tilt between extreme joy and extreme anxiety on a daily basis.  What about your dogs? (And you… would you describe yourself as a “happy person?” Do you think that influences your dog(s)?)

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Holy moly, there is a lot going on. The wolf controversy continues to take lots of my time (about to do an interview on it now, testifying next week at the NRB in Eau Claire) and I have lots of evening talks to prepare for. In addition, fall in the country is wonderful and, well …, full. There are apples to pick & process for my annual apple/wild plum butter sauce, tons of gardening to do (just ordered a few tons of mulch, oh my), barns to clean out, windows to wash, garages to clean, trees to trim, thistles to kill, and on and on. And now, cats to get final vaccinations for . . .

Introducing the next, and hopefully VERY long, chapter in life on the farm. As many of you know, after a feral cat had kittens in my barn I had hopes of taming her and keeping one her kittens as barn cats. She had other plans, being a truly wild animal, and after I had her spayed, she attempted to lure her kitten away from the barn and into the woods. One can hardly blame her; after all, from her perspective, I stole her kittens (probably ate them for all she knew), trapped and tortured her and then expected her to stay? I wish I knew where she was, but am glad that she is spayed and won’t be having more litters.

That left me with no cats on the farm at all, and when the cats away…. Yup, the mice will play. Worse, the rats were not just increasing, they were beginning to hold conventions. I expected to walk into the barn and find them holding little cell phones and video cameras. I could write an entire article on rats, and how much I adore domestic ones as pets, and how much I dislike having to rid the barn of them. I’ll summarize by saying that the last time I pretended there were no rats in the barn they ended up in my house. It’s one thing to have a pet rat. It’s another altogether to see a wild one run across your kitchen floor and discover the gaping holes they’d chewed in your cabinets. (And to hear your friends suggest that they might never visit again.)

As often happens, the  universe provided: Right after Xena the feral cat disappeared and Calico had found a wonderful new home, I learned that neighbors had a momma cat who showed up in their shed half dead, starved and pregnant. She eventually had 7 healthy kittens, thanks to the care and concern my friends showered upon her. Momma was clearly raised around people, she was super friendly and sought out people to rub against. When I contacted them they had one kitten left and also needed to find a home for momma. And so, here they are, momma Nellie (bottom) and kitten Polly, who are now settled into Redstart Farm, I hope for many, many years to come. They came with horrific diarrhea but I think we have that turned around. Nellie continues to gain weight and Polly is growing like a weed. Polly (both cats are polydactyl) is all white but her eyes are green and she does not appear to be deaf. She might have some health challenges in the future (all white cats are more susceptible to skin cancer) but I’ll give her the absolute best life I can. And how many barn cats have a cat tree in the hay mow?

Here’s one of fall’s most reliable predictors: the wild sunflowers in bloom in front of the barn. It is always bittersweet to see them.

But it is cool (yeah!) and raining today (even better) and we get to be home this weekend. Willie and I will work sheep a little, but I’m afraid his shoulder is regressing. He was visibly limping last week, so we’re back to exercise restrictions and lots of PT exercises. I  honestly don’t know if he’s going to be able to do the physical work to be able to compete in trials–driving a big course takes lots of ‘short stopping’ and stress on his injured ligaments. (His tendon was surgically repaired, but no such possibility for the medial ligaments that were torn.) We’ll see, I’m taking a long term, philosophic approach, and remind myself every day that Willie still can work sheep at the farm, and that’s more important to him than anything else. He’s entered in one more trial and a sheepdog clinic in mid October, we’ll see how he’s doing. He doesn’t know about any of this and is happy it’s cool and that Jim and I are home and he gets to work sheep a little bit. Life is good.