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Annie gets cozy

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British summer time begins tomorrow but it feels more like Christmas than Easter in the UK at the moment.

Oblivious to the weather, Annie had a delightful time in the forest this morning, adding to her usual repertoire of puddles & ponds, a stinky black bog.

Mud we can cope with (we have so much practice!) but bogs stink to high heaven so there was nothing for it but to bath her.

The picture above is of Annie after she took herself off to bed no doubt feeling a little chilly. Unlike Little Bear, she doesn’t like the hairdryer, so bed & blankets & er, hot water bottle it had to be!

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Annie Pavlov

Annie the Labrador

Annie

Hands up who doesn’t enjoy spoiling their dog?  Play is high on the agenda for Little Bear but for Annie, true Labrador that she is, spoiling equals FOOD!

My indulgence of choice for them is Lily’s Kitchen Wild Venison and Rabbit hotpot. As I don’t eat meat myself I struggle buying meat for the animals, but I have less of a problem buying wild meat that met a swift surprising end than I would something that had to endure a farm and an abattoir. It may not be everyone’s logic, but it works for me.

So they get a tin between them as a weekend treat with a few of their regular biscuits on the top for a bit of a crunch. What’s fascinating though is their different reactions.

Dancing Bear

Little Bear, normally fairly laid back about his food will be whimpering and dancing on his hind legs, sniffing the air with unbridled delight before running full pelt to his food spot and sitting like an angel – albeit a suddenly starving one.

Annie, wagging from the minute I pick up her bowl doesn’t seem excited by the smell they way Little Bear does which is strange, because even I think it smells good and I’ve not touched meat in over twenty years!  No, Annie doesn’t get super excited until I dip the cup in the biscuit tin. At the first sound of plastic on dog biscuits she’s hopping all over the kitchen like a wallaby on speed.  There’s no accounting for taste, bless her cotton paws.

 

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Apache the horse

Apache

I’ve given up on the news.  I can’t bear to hear one more report about the horse meat scandal because nobody is apparently bothered by the real issue here. Horses, as close to man as any dog or cat are being routinely dragged into abattoirs and slaughtered on an industrial level.

Horses who once won rosettes at the Pony Club, had their manes platted by adoring teenage girls and whose welfare was once important enough to their owners to earn them pain relief in their feed are destined for a terrifying end that no creature deserves, let alone ones so intelligent and faithful.

Horse power 

Like many young girls, I dreamed of having a horse, but finances and circumstances meant that I was 28 before I learned to ride. My life changed practically overnight when I found someone needing a sharer. Apache was a 14.2 tri-coloured Welsh Cob with a heart of gold and a will of steel; one she frequently demonstrated when I wanted to stop and she felt like going the distance or vice versa. I was never a great rider, but I just loved being around her. I even loved mucking out and to this day can’t pass a yard without inhaling great gleeful lung fulls of ‘eau de stable’ such is its ability to transport me back to happy times.

We had some great years together before she finally retired to live out her golden years at a nice yard with a warm soft bed, thick rugs for her arthritic joints and all the care and attention befitting a lady of advancing years.

A peaceful goodbye

In March 2011 I got a call from her owner to say she was having another bad bout of colic and that the vet had done all he could. She was in great pain and it was only going to get worse.  I blogged about it at the time, (Can animals heal a broken heart?) reflecting on the amazing reaction of Little Bear and Annie when I returned home from the Yard that awful day.

Apache passed peacefully in a field full of spring grass with the sun on her back.  She was given pain relief for the colic, sedated and then euthanised while the people who adored her whispered their love and prayers in her chocolate-brown ears.  It was quiet, calm and dignified and she showed no sign of fear or stress.

I still feel like a traitor for my complicity in her death, but in my heart I knew it was time and so I think did she. The alternative would have seen her writhe in agony as her gut twisted and so, as the lesser of the evils I, like her owner opted for the kinder path.

If death can ever be ‘good’ then I’d like to think that hers was at least in the right ball park.  Her peaceful passing was a world away from the fate of so many millions of horses that are slaughtered on an industrial scale, many after enduring long terrifying journeys to abattoirs and the thought sickens me to me core.

That these incredible creatures should ever find themselves in a slaughters hands is the real scandal and for all our righteous indignation about ‘mis-labelling’ we need to remember who’s paying the real price here.

P.S As I was finishing this post I came across this excellent blog – it’s says a lot about how we’ve ended up in this mess.

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Fox

Why keeping the ban is more important than some might think

Last week I grudgingly bigged up the RSPCA on Twitter for prosecuting the Heythrop Hunt for flouting the ban on hunting with dogs. Being chums with the Prime Minister doesn’t make them above the law, I fumed and with more than 76% of British people wanting to keep the ban it infuriated me that our Government was actually considering repealing it.

In the midst of an economic crisis and with a thousand and one other priorities to deal with, pacifying a small minority of people who apparently enjoy seeing a living creature torn apart by a pack of dogs seemed utterly perverse. Nobody has stopped them from hunting, they just have to chase a scent and not a living creature. But that is apparently not good enough, they prefer a real fox to chase.

As a rider I can appreciate the thill of the ride especially as part of a large group, but I can’t wrap my brain around the idea that chasing a living creature and then killing it hideously is even necessary, unless of course, you enjoy seeing animals in pain. And I don’t just mean the last moments when the hounds strike and rip it limb from terrified limb, but the psychological pain of an animal fleeing for its life.  As a human being, how can you not empathise with that sort of suffering?

Animal abusers = People abusers 

There is clear evidence that animal abuse is a predictor of violence against humans.  Those who abuse animals lack empathy, not just for animals, but for people too.

According to Psychology Today, ‘nearly all violent crime perpetrators have a history of animal cruelty in their profiles’.  When asked how many mass murderers and schoolyard killers had committed acts of animal abuse, an FBI spokesperson is on record as saying “The real question should be, how many have not.”

Such is the link between animal abuse and child abuse that in the US, social services and animal welfare organisations routinely work together to identify and try to prevent abuse.

Animal abuse damages children

There is also evidence that witnessing animal abuse when young has a dramatic impact on a child’s ability to develop empathy.  According to the American Veterinary Medical Association, 60% of incarcerated violent offenders saw their childhood pets taken away or experience traumatic deaths.

Animals play a vital role in helping children develop psychologically.  Anyone who’s grown up with animals will have suspected as much, but  I had no idea that there was so much evidence to measure and back this up. For example, in his book ‘The Link Between Animal Abuse and Human Violence’  Andrew Linzey, PhD, DD, HonDD, cites research from across the globe that concludes that witnessing animal abuse can psychologically damage children.  This may seem obvious, but the process is worth noting.

Children who witness neglect, abuse and/or the killing of an animal become desensitised to it.  What’s horrific today, isn’t so bad tomorrow and too soon, the child becomes indifferent and simply doesn’t care.  Habituation to the pain and suffering they see quickly follows and you soon have a child unable to empathise – with animal or human.

So what are we teaching our children as they witness a fox hunt, either in the flesh or on TV? And for those who claim empathy for some animals e.g. cats, dogs, horses, but not others, such as foxes, what are teaching them? That empathy is selective and dependent on appearance and popularity?  Oh, that’s a slippery slope if ever I saw one.

Social issue 

Empathy is vital, not just to our own mental health and stability but to the functioning of our society.  Imagine a world in which people were  emotionally incapable of caring! If the survivalists want something to worry about now that the Myan calendar has proved blessedly inaccurate, I’d suggest that this scenario should be top of their list.

I’m not suggesting that anyone who participates in a Fox Hunt is a full-blown sociopath, but if the road to psychosis is a sliding scale, then surely the evidence suggests that they’re a lot further toward the nut house than the rest of us.

 

Further reading 

http://humane-education.org.za/view/blog/childhood-development-impaired-by-animal-abuse/

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-human-equation/201104/children-who-are-cruel-animals-when-worry

http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/05/19/us-animalcruelty-childabuse-idUSTRE74I3TC20110519

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Annie & Bear under the (fake) mistletoe

Annie & Bear under the (fake) mistletoe

At the weekend, during a half-hearted attempt at Christmas shopping I made one purchase that I was particularly tickled with.  It was a bunch of felt mistletoe. Now I know this might not be everyone’s idea of a top buy, but since I’ve had dogs I won’t buy mistletoe as the berries are poisonous.

I said as much in passing while chatting to the sales girl and she was absolutely horrified, hastily explaining that she had a new puppy and had no idea about things that might be harmful.

Cue crazy dog lady who then felt compelled to then hold up the queue listing all of the things that are potentially fatal to dogs and especially curious puppies…

Irresponsible advertising

It’s a topical point as a battle royal rages between the dog loving world and Morrison’s supermarket who’s Christmas advert shows a dog being fed Christmas pudding.

Raisins are incredibly toxic to dogs and even a few can cause fatal renal failure, a fact that their PR department is bizarrely trying to deny despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

There’s little excuse for large corporations to get it so wrong, even less for such a puerile stance when their error is pointed out to them, but we can be more generous to the innocent dog lover, who, like the young girl in the shop simply didn’t know.

Spread the word

So if you want to help dogs this Christmas, please spread the word that lots of everyday food stuffs and some of the plants we decorate our homes with at this time of year are potentially fatal to dogs.  It’s even more important when we welcome friends and family into our homes who may not have dogs.

One of Little Bear’s Bichon friends was fed four After Eight mints as a puppy by a visiting toddler and spent two ‘touch and go’ days at the emergency vet as a result.  Had he not had such a clued up owner or fur incapable of hiding chocolate stains, he may not have lived to tell the tale.

Here are some of the common ones, but Dog’s Trust do a more comprehensive list that’s worth a ‘cut out and keep’ and sticking to the fridge alongside the emergency vet number, just in case.

Avocados

Apple pips

Apricot kernels

Aloe Vera

Antifreeze

Chocolate

Raisins

Grapes

Holly berries

Kale

Mistletoe

Onions

Poinsettia

Xylitol (a sweetener found in low-calorie foods)

You can follow the Morrison’s story via the ‘Morrison’s Christmas Pudding TV Ad could Kill’ Facebook page

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Comb-over Bear

Comb-over Bear

Little Bear sporting a very fetching comb-over beard

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Annie the Labrador sleeping

Annie sleeping peacefully…or is she meditating?

I’m a worrier. There, I admit it. Give me an inch and I’ll worry a mile.

Take last night. Other Half and I were snuggled on the sofa, Annie was in her bed looking relaxed and dreamy and Little Bear was flopped on my lap. Camden Cat was doing her nightly routine of trying to wind him up by staring at him at close range and he was ignoring her instead of barking. I also noticed that his neck and back muscles were much softer than usual.

Now a normal person would have thought ‘hey, this is good,  he’s really relaxed for once. Maybe its the long walk, T-Touch and the new Adaptil plug in.’ But no, my mind, sometimes too little to be allowed out on its own I think, goes running off worrying that maybe he’s ill.

By 11.30pm he’d had a biscuit (rattle jar, cue mad dash to kitchen to check motor skills), played six rounds of chase the tennis ball (if he turns down a tennis ball, we’d have been at the emergency vets), had 10 minutes tug of war with his string of sausages (favourite toy in the whole wide world) and squeezed in ten minutes clicker training to perfect his now beautiful roll-over just to check….

Temperament

I’m no expert, but I’ve studied enough now to realise the effect our emotions have on our dogs, especially those we have a close bond with.  But despite what the old guard insist on spouting, it’s not 100% nurture; temperament plays a huge part in deciding dog behaviour and if there’s one thing guaranteed to drive me onto my soap box it’s good caring dog lovers being told that their dog’s issues are entirely their fault because they’re not ‘tough enough’.  Genetics plays a huge role so we should stop beating up the good guys for pursuing kind, fair and effective training methodologies.

That said, for those of us whose nature is to worry first and analyse later, there is much we can do ; we need not to slaves to our genetics and early conditioning.  Our dogs, like us may be worriers by nature, maybe that’s why, noticing a kindred spirit, we picked them in the first place, but by learning how to help ourselves, we help our dogs by association.

Mindfulness

I’ve just started learning mindfulness meditation and at the suggestion of my meditation coach, I’ve started with mindful dog walking. I know, here’s me thinking I was going to have to sit in a beanbag chanting!

OH and I love our walks and spend most of it chatting, especially now that we have a wedding to plan and get excited about 🙂 but on a mindful dog walk, it’s 100% about the dogs.

To be mindful, we have to be focused in the moment so instead of chatting on our walk yesterday, we tried focussing entirely on the dogs.  I’m walking Annie at the moment to practice her walk to heal, so yesterday, I was able to focus solely on my timing and her position at my side.

When we got to the field, we talked about their body language while they ran around enjoying a sniff-fest and worked on grading their arousal levels, noticing what changed and what effect things like the sight of another dog in the distance had on them. We also noticed how they played and what ended the game – a subtlety we’d completely missed before.

With two reactive dogs, walks are way more complex than for your average dog.  Some are wonderful and some are downright horrendous, but I have to confess that yesterday’s walk was one of the most enjoyable I’ve ever had. The dogs were relaxed and happy when they flopped onto the sofas on our return, tongues lolling, faces soft and smiley.

Understanding

 

If mindfulness can help switch off that worry button for me, I know it will have a positive impact on the dogs. That’s not to say that we won’t still be using the other tools in the toolbox like clicker training, socialisation, exercise, mental stimulation, environmental control, diet and plug-in pheromones and tryptophan supplements, but it’s another step forward in understanding and for me, that’s never been just about understanding the dogs; understanding the self and our relationship with our dogs is equally as vital.

 

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My gorgeous boy

Little Bear and I have clocked up our fair share of trainers and behaviourists over the past five years.  The first trainer turned out to be a major part of the problem with her ‘yank it round the neck till it behaves approach’ and subscription to the ridiculous dominance theory.  From there I sought help only from qualified APDT registered trainers but even then had mixed results.

One just told me to keep him away from all other dogs and refused to explain any of the theory to me on the grounds that I wasn’t a professional and wouldn’t understand.  The next one was good, if a little superior but so busy I had to wait literally months between appointments, which was little use to me.

Lack of people skills

There were others in-between and classes too but a thing I’ve noticed about a lot of professional trainers is their complete lack of people skills. Yes, we, the novice dog owning population can be ignorant idiots and I do appreciate that when you love dogs enough to devote your career to them, it must be hugely frustrating to see them so mis-managed by people who just don’t understand them.

Click

After five years of looking, I’ve finally found two trainers who get it. Specialising in aggression issues, they use kind, effective methods and focus on helping dogs learn appropriate behaviours through socialisation with teaching dogs who have impeccable canine communication skills.

Little Bear has been going to the fortnightly Shy Guys group for a few months now and he’s making real progress.  Their kind effective approach extends to both ends of the lead and the results seem to speak for themselves. The groups are really popular and I think that’s down to the fact that the trainers obviously understand that in order to help the dog, they first have to help the human.

Find out more at http://www.dogcommunication.co.uk/

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Annie the Labrador

Annie

On the fifth of August 2010 we picked up our new foster dog – Annie,  a four-year old Red Fox Labrador who’d been used as a breeding bitch.  A snapped collar saw her disappear into the twilight before we’d even had chance to get her home (Disaster strikes) and so began a two-day roller coaster.

The panic, the despair,  the guilt and worst of all, the agony of wondering what this sweet but terrified girl must be going through to be lost in a strange place but tempered with the humbling kindness of the strangers who helped us find her ( Little (Big) Dog Lost & Breakthrough).

It’s hard to believe that was two years ago. Watching her now, stretched out, paw over nose, twitching in dreamland on the sofa, it’s almost hard to believe that this was the dog so shut down that she refused to even toilet for three days. The dog you could send scuttling under the dining table should you accidentally look her in the eye. The dog so seemingly ‘aggressive’ that she’d erupt at the sight of a dog a football pitch away and who would charge the patio doors on sight of Little Bear or Camden Cat in the garden.

Overcoming fear

Now that the fear isn’t doing quite so much of the talking we’re seeing the real Annie. She loves Little Bear and she and Camden have come to an arrangement based on mutual respect that even extends to polite sniffing. She can still be wary of some people, but will also cheerfully approach complete strangers with a relaxed wag if she likes the look of them.

Her dreams are more peaceful now too. I don’t know what dogs dream of, but I know for sure that they have nightmares. Seeing her run in her sleep, her face contorted as she whimpered and whined was once a regular occurrence.

We’re still working on the on-lead dog to dog reactivity but that’s coming along steadily too. She’ll get there. Just as she learned to let go of the other fears that racked her life, so this, in time will pass too.

Lesson

I’m not know for my patience, but dogs don’t work to our ridiculous, artificial schedules. Annie will continue to learn and grow in her own time and our job is to help and encourage her along that path. My knees still go a little weak when I see her run because a part of me will never fully get over that fateful first day, but I can’t help wonder whether it didn’t do me a favour.

In losing her I gained a valuable insight – I now know what real fear feels like. We are all so hounded by the imagined fears of our over-active minds that real fear, the type that comes from immediate danger is blessedly rare. Maybe, in order to help her overcome the very real fears she has to face, I just needed to walk a mile in her paws.

 

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Little Bear

I watched Usain Bolt run the 200 meters last night. I’m not a huge sports fan but for some reason I like watching his races, a contradiction I found myself pondering in the wee small hours.

I think his appeal is his confidence. Not the arrogance and  stiltedness we often see from top sportspeople, but a more genuine, very human level of self-belief that makes people feel like they could still have a beer with him in the pub.

The Little Bear Olympics 

While the race was happening we were having our own track event in the living room with Little Bear. It was more like the four meter scramble than the 200 meter sprint, but he was enjoying his nightly round of chase the tennis ball. Until that is, a mis-placed throw (I did say I’m not much of a sportswoman) landed it behind his toy box.

He knew exactly where it was, but couldn’t reach it. After about 20 seconds of pacing around he tried emptying the toys, but that was swiftly abandoned in favour of short sharp frustrated barks. The equivalent I’m guessing of ‘Help! Somebody get my ball for me!’

I told OH that I wanted him to figure it out for himself and so we encouraged him, praised every paw in the right direction, fell silent as he woofed his frustration and waited for him to figure it out. After about three minutes, which must feel like a lifetime to a frustrated dog, he had tried a number of different techniques: standing in the basket so that he could reach the ball behind it; emptying more toys onto the floor; tipping the basket up with his paw and then finally, approaching from the side and moving the basket with his nose which (Hoorah!) revealed the tennis ball!

Bear goes for gold

Well he couldn’t have looked more pleased with himself if he had just won gold in the 200 meters. The crowd, i.e. me, OH and Annie went wild. To cheers, claps and whoops of ‘clever boy’ Little Bear swaggered and pranced about the place grumbling his happy growl and wagging for all he was worth. He did three laps of honour around the living room before sitting down in front of me on the sofa still all of a wag for a post event interview (“You worked hard out there Little Bear, was there ever a point that you felt the goal was out of reach?”) and of course, a ear rub.

Encourage failure

Little Bear ‘failed’ to get it right a number of times last night and at any point, had we stepped in to help, we would have deprived him of that glorious flush of victory that he so obviously enjoyed when he succeeded. It was a reminder that failure is a very necessary part of success and something we should celebrate and encourage.

It wasn’t getting the ball that helped boost his confidence, it was the fact that he figured it out all by himself, trying and failing a few times but getting there in the end by using his head and his heart and persevering.

Just like pro-athletes, dogs need self-belief. They need to know that we’re there to support them, in their failures as well as their successes and that we’ll be there to cheer them on no matter what.  Who said sport had nothing to do with dog behaviour? 😉

 

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