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Paddy the Lab/Collie Mix covered in mud

Our Pal Paddy modelling this season’s sensational ‘muddy dog’ look.

Mud. It’s the bane of every dog loving household for months of the year, but just like vet bills, poop and hair on every surface bar the dog, it’s an inevitable part of sharing your life with a canine friend. That said, there are ways of minimising its disruptive influence: here are my favourite top tips.

1) Don’t expect your dog to stay clean 

An obvious one perhaps, but if I had a pound for every time I saw an exasperated owner yell ‘NO!’ at their pooch as they galloped joyfully to the puddle or squelched belly deep into the black stuff I could give up work and write about dogs full-time.  Dogs are dogs and therefore blessedly devoid of the worries that occupy our minds like whether their boss will accept ‘I had to hose down the dog’ as a valid excuse for being late to work  or  whether you’ll ever be able to get the kitchen floor clean again.

If you don’t have time to deal with the mud, then avoid it.  Take them on a longer street walk if you’re pushed for time, play with them at home, do some training or walk them later in the day, but please don’t expect to take the kid to the sweet shop and expect them to abstain in the interests of your agenda; it’s just not fair.

2) Prepare yourself  

When we took Bramble, our Springer Spaniel puppy for his first check-up, the vet told my mother to buy good wellies and a set of waterproofs. It was sage advice. Having the right protection from the elements turns a miserable walk into at least a bearable one.  My wardrobe is now well stocked with all manner of weather and dog proof clothing. My only rule is that all outer layers must be washable because even if your dog isn’t a jumper, you can never guarantee that you won’t encounter an over-enthusiastic greeter at the park.

3) Prepare your dog 

Mini Schnauzer Little Bear in a red coat

Little Red Riding Bear modelling a coat that didn’t quite make the grade

Little Bear has soft fluffy Schnauzer fur that clings to mud and knots. Brushing it out is possible, but not much fun for him (or me) so in the winter his legs and tummy are regularly trimmed. It may not be the Schnauzer ‘look’ but I don’t care as long as he’s more comfortable.

Both Little Bear and Annie have coats. Bear because he hates the rain and has fur that gets quickly sodden (at which point he shivers and refuses to walk) and Annie because she has arthritis and has a coat that takes forever to dry. We use their Equafleece coats most often because you can sling them in the washing machine, pop them on a radiator and they’re dry again by the next walk.

I’m often bemused by people who won’t put coats on dogs.  Maybe it’s a macho thing or a backlash against dressing dogs up as if they’re dolls, but for me it’s both kind and practical. If it’s cold and wet enough for you to have a coat on, chances are your dog would benefit too.  You can even get waterproof onsies to cover their legs as modelled by the adorable Louis and Archie.

Bichon's Louis and Archie in their onesies

Mud? What mud? Bichon brothers Louis & Archie in their mud proof onesies.

4) Mud proof your home 

Okay, if I could do this I’d patent it and make millions, but there are practical ways of minimising the impact on your home. As I wrote in my previous post, Dog seeks human, must love mud,  I’m the idiot who chose cream tiles and white walls so when I’m wiping down paint work and the steam mop is working overtime on the floors, I comfort myself in thinking that at least it’s easy to see and remove this way. Admittedly, it’s a small comfort.

Towels: A huge pile of dog towels is a must. A great way to reuse those that might have seen better days, in our house, they live in a basket in the garage ready for post walk rub downs.  Once there’s a machine load they get a quick wash on a cool cycle, dried on the bathroom towel radiator and are ready for their next round. It’s a pain, but it would be more of a pain without them.

Annie the Labrador sleeping in her bed

Annie snoozing in her bed (and yes, white is a stupid colour for dog bedding!)

Bedding: The thing about good dog beds is the fact that they’re usually soft and comfortable.  The way our two pull for home on a cold wet day leaves me in no doubt that they’re looking forward to snuggling up in their nice warm beds. Beds that will of course, be damp and covered in mud within minutes. So having washable beds and or bedding is a must.  Little Bear and Annie love their crates. Each has a thick waterproof base pad topped off with a washable single quilt.  They wash well and dry quickly which is absolutely essential.

Containment: This may be stating the obvious, but restricting access to the rooms you’d rather not get muddy is one of the simplest ways of containing the mess. If you recall the Christmas Pedigree advert you’ll already have a nightmare scenario in your mind of what might happen (it’s very funny if you’ve not seen it) , but remember, humans are usually the ones with the power to close doors!

5) Remember your sense of humour 

Possibly my most important tip of all. Having dogs is a privilege and one of the great joys in life so try not to let a little mud and mess detract from all the good stuff.  And next time your dog is ecstatically bounding through muddy puddles, try it out for yourself, you never know, you might just surprise yourself!

Do you have some top tips for dealing with muddy dogs? Do please share as a comment as I’m sure we’d all love some more ideas on how to manage the mud.  Thanks!

Mud Shots

After my last post, I’ve received some wonderful shots of EVEN muddier dogs than Little Bear and Annie!

Do you have a dirtier dog?

Thanks so much for sharing your pictures. If you’d like to add a mud mug shot to the rogues gallery you can email your picture to thelittlebeardogblog@googlemail.com

Bella the Labrador covered in mud

Queen of the Labrapotami, Bella.

Bella the Labrador wallowing in the mud

Bella at the mud wallow

Bonnie the Mini Schnauzer

Bonnie

Paddy the Collie Lab mix gets muddy

Paddy

Paddy the Lab/Collie Mix covered in mud

Paddy looking proud of his paint job

 

Bichon's Louis and Archie in their onesies

Mud? What mud? Bichon brothers Louis & Archie in their mud proof onesies.

 

Lilly

Lilly

 

Like most aspiring dog owners, before I actually had a dog I used to indulge in the odd reverie about our wonderful future life together.  I had visions of us playing catch in a sun drenched meadow on a warm August afternoon.  I imagined us kicking up a pile of crisp autumn leaves and leaving cute paw and foot prints in the winter snow before heading home to snuggle on the sofa.  

Having grown up with a Springer Spaniel, I wasn’t entirely naive, but I suppose part of me choose to block out one of the not so welcome seasonal realities: Mud.

So long nice clean car

So long nice clean car

Mud magnets

If you’ve not got a dog and you’re thinking about getting one, please, hear me now:  They will get muddy. You will get mud: in your house; in your car; on your clothes and more often than you’ll care to think about, on your face and in your hair.  

You will have an almost daily routine of wiping mud off the walls, radiators and any small children who may happen to walk past. Your pile of dog towels will quickly outweigh the human ones, your washing machine will work overtime and in the winter months, you’ll start grading your walks not on how enjoyable they are, but on how muddy its likely to be. 

Paddling Bear

Paddling Bear

 

 

Who chose the cream tiles?

Our battles with mud are exacerbated by some pretty unpractical home decorating choices.  In answer to the question ‘Which idiot chose cream floor tiles, white walls and a light beige sofa?’ I have to foolishly raise my hand.

In my (feeble) defence, I made those choices when we only had Little Bear and as much as he loves paddling in puddles and rolling in cow pats, he’s not a big fan of deep mud. But then of course, we got a Labrador. 

 

 

 

Annie the Labrador covered in mud

Annie the Labrapotomous

Labrapotomous

Annie is a mud magnet.  She’s the Labrapotomous of the dog world and loves nothing better than getting caked in the stuff from nose to tail.  In the Forest she’ll find the deepest, dirtiest, stinkiest puddle and fling herself into it with the wild abandon of a lemming on a cliff top. She emerges beaming as if she’s just won the lottery and annoying as it is, we don’t have the heart to stop her fun.  But even on a road walk, she has an amazing ability to attract mud and will invariably return home with dirty paws, legs and tummy. 

Adjustments

We’ve made some practical adjustments at home, including installing a new door to give us direct access to the garage from the house.  This means we can bring the dogs in through the garage, avoiding the daily splattering of mud up the walls of the hallway.  It also gives us more room to do the towelling off.

I’d be lying if I said that dealing with constantly filthy dogs is much fun. But here’s the rub: when we took on our dogs it was to give them the life they deserved. And we made that commitment for life. We knew there would be compromises along the way and a pristine home is just one of them. What we get in return though far outweighs the inconvenience and of course, we still have those sunny August afternoons to look forward to.

 

 

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Little Bear hates having a bath. He’s not unusual as I suspect most dogs dislike our penchant for making them sit in warm water while shampooing away all those delightful doggie aromas: mud, stinky puddle water, poop (LB loves the fox variety but will settle for cow pats at a push) and his particular favourite, dead stuff. The day he rolled in a long dead rat is still chillingly fresh in my memory as is the sight of him swaggering home, proud as punch not realising that six baths would be necessary to rid him of the stench.

Bath time blues
Little Bear is now six so I’d sort of resigned myself to the fact that bath time would always be a necessary evil where he turned on the puppy dog eyes with the occasional shiver for good measure and I ended up feeling guilty.

Positive reinforcement
As a big fan of positive reinforcement I’ve tried using toys and treats over the years but he largely ignored the toys and took the treats with a reproachful ‘this isn’t working you know’ glare.
So imagine my surprise when yesterday, LB jumped into the bath on his own!

Bath time Bear
We’d been out for a long forest walk and he was really muddy. But as he’d only had a bath last week I decided to let the mud dry and brush it out. Bear though had other ideas.

While I was hanging up the towels in the bathroom he trotted in, rested his nose on the bath and wagged. Then came the cute over the shoulder look to see if I was looking and another wag. I quietly closed the door, usually a cue for him to dart out of the room, but he just stood there wagging at me.

Now LB loves chasing stones in the ford and over the summer he’s been playing in a paddling pool my mum found for him. He’s so obsessed with the stones I’ve got a handful in a jug in the bathroom in an attempt to make the dreaded bath time more bearable.

I picked up the jug and before I could do anything he had jumped into the bath! What’s more he was wagging fit to bust!

Needless to say he got his bath but not until we’d played stones for a long time – it seemed only fair after he’d asked so nicely!

Lessons learned
Yesterday reminded me of an incredibly valuable lesson: never underestimate the power of a positive reinforcer – they work, but they’re often not the things we think they are.

(Please excuse any formatting issues, I’ve had to write this on my iPhone as he’s fast asleep on my lap and looking way too cute to disturb!)

Annie the Labrador with two toys in her mouth

A bit blurred because she wouldn’t keep still long enough.

This will be Annie’s fourth Christmas with us. The drama that surrounded her arrival is still so vivid in my mind that it seems hard to believe it was more than three and a half years ago.

The shut down, terrified, flea ridden dog that wouldn’t come out from under the dining table for three days is thankfully, nowhere to be seen these days. To say that she’s blossomed is an understatement of grand proportions.

The real Annie was in evidence yesterday as my mother arrived for Christmas. The dogs excitement was so off the scale that I have thought about not giving them their Christmas treats this year but instead sticking a bow on ‘grandma’ as by all accounts she’s all the present they need.

To see Annie take her new soft toy then steal Little Bear’s too and refuse all of his attempts to take it back was such a joy.  That she was enjoying her new gift was obvious by the frantic wagging, but to us it was a sign of just how far this girl has come.  There was a time not so long ago when she’d only take a toy to please you, but obviously had no idea what to do with it.

As Dog Rescues all over the country brace themselves for the influx of the Christmas puppies that will, with depressing predictability, be dumped upon them in the weeks and months ahead, I hope anyone looking for a dog will first consider a rescue. A dog like our Annie who far from being broken, just needed a chance to be loved.

Annie the Labrador with her new toy.

And so to bed. Annie and her new toy.

 

Mini Schnauzer Little Bear takes a break out on a solo walk

Little Bear takes a break during our solo walk

If you have more than one dog, chances are you probably walk them together.  I actually still recall the “Walking two dogs is no more work than walking one” argument I used as part of my case for a double dog household.  Oh foolish fool, how wrong could I have been?!

The reality is, if you have reactive dogs like ours, combined walks can sometimes do more harm than good.

Tipping point

Just like us, all dogs have a tipping point. Now for your laid back, confident pooch the circumstances needed to reach that tipping point might never ever arise but for the nervous, under-confident dog the line between calm, rational thought and an emotional, amygdala driven outburst is always that much finer.

In the fourteen years we had our beloved Springer Spaniel, I only once saw him aggress and that was when a Rottweiler  jumped into our garden and cornered him in the yard. Even our sweet old gent found his tipping point that day and acted to defend himself much to our utter amazement.

For reactive dogs like Bear and Annie, their equivalent of a Rottweiler over the garden wall can be as seemingly benign as a dog on a lead 300 yards away. Through an unfortunate mix of temperament, experience (and lack of it), they see threats where there are none.  But when they bark and lunge, it’s out of the same fear my old Springer felt all those years ago, it’s just that their tipping points aren’t as obvious to us.

A life lived in fear

They say a life lived in fear is a life half lived and this can certainly be the reality for many dogs. On Little Bear’s scary list were: bikes, skateboards, other dogs,  horses, velcro (?!) and thunderstorms to name but a few.  A walk invariably encountered at least one of the things and so for a long time, practically every trip out of the door would mean he’d end up in a frenzy of fearful barking and lunging.

Positive reinforcement 

Over the years we’ve worked to raise his tipping point to a more comfortable level.  Armed with clicker and treats (and a swift and unapologetic about turn if we spot something that I know he won’t cope with) we’ve slowly built up his tolerance to the point that he can now see a dog across the street and remain calm enough to sit and get a treat for his non-reaction.

Bikes and skateboards no longer get a second look thanks to the same positive reinforcement and he can walk past a field of horses without batting an eyelash. That said, he has learned to flutter them a little in the hopes of a reward when he thinks he’s been especially good.

The key to the training has simply been to encourage him to feel differently about the things he was once afraid of.  Get rid of the fear and the over-reaction just isn’t necessary anymore.  Which brings me on to the need for solo walks.

Going solo

Part of the ethos of positive reinforcement is that dogs are alway set up to succeed. Considering his naturally anxious disposition, Little Bear has achieved a lot over the last few years which is why asking him to be cool, calm and collected while his best friend Annie is freaking out by his side is really a bridge too far.

So, as much as I love walking my dogs together, until he and Annie are at a similar level in terms of tipping points we’ll continue to walk them separately as often as we can. The good news is that judging by Annie’s progress, she’ll not be far behind him.

The last leg?

Annie looking happy to be leaving the vets minus her leg plate

Annie looking happy to be leaving the vets minus her leg plate

A few months after formally adopting Annie, she underwent a TPLO or a tibial-plateau-leveling osteotomy if you want to get technical.

We still don’t know if the ruptured cruciate ligament that necessitated it was the result of her bolt into the blue on that fateful first day, or due to a more chronic degeneration. Either way, we had a very lame dog and two options, one of which was utterly unthinkable.

After ruling out the local ‘specialist’ on the grounds that he had the bedside manner of a tree trunk, no apparent regard for an obviously terrified dog and some pretty outdated surgical methods, we booked an appointment with Noel Fitzpatrick.

That his first greeting was to Annie and not us was earned him point one. That half the consultation was done with him sitting on the floor with a handful of dog biscuits earned him a stack more.

Road to recovery 

Annie's bionic leg

Annie’s bionic leg

A TPLO, although now routine, has a pretty lengthy recovery period. After all, it entails cutting away a chunk of the tibia to prevent the femur sliding down it when the dog puts weight on its knee.  So darling Annie had six weeks crate rest, which for a young and active dog is pretty hard going.  It was far from easy for us too as she woke us every three hours during the night because she was hurting, or because she had an itch she couldn’t scratch or was downright miserable. But we got through it because in our book, there just was no alternative.

Months later, with the crate returned and the buster collar consigned to the loft we were woken in the night by the most terrible howling.  The emergency vet diagnosed a fit and it wasn’t until later that day that we spotted the real cause of her distress, a small deep wound on her inner thigh.  Somehow, Annie had punctured the muscle around the metal plate that was holding her leg together.  The pain must have been unbearable for this stoical little dog to be so consumed by it.

Plate In? Plate out? 

The wound healed and then a few weeks later opened up again. For months we agonised over whether to take the now redundant plate out.  Although the surgeon confirmed that she no longer needed it, we were concerned about yet another anaesthetic.  Months went by with not a single incident and we started to relax and think that finally the area had built up enough scar tissue to protect the skin from knocks. But then, out of the blue it opened up again, but in two places this time. They were small, superficial wounds and aside from licking them, they didn’t seem to bother her, but they certainly bothered us.

Screw up  

Leaving a  dog at the vets for an operation is never much fun. Leaving a dog so nervous she’s shaking from temple to tail is no fun at all. So imagine the fury when we get a call from the vet to say that after opening her up, he was unable to take the plate out because the original surgeon put two different types of screw into the leg but only told him about one.

Poor Annie was stitched up and sent home only to have to return two days later to have it done all over again, but this time with the benefit of two specialist screwdriver heads instead of the one.

I’m still grateful to Fitzpatrick Referrals for the work they did to help Annie. There are many vets out there who could learn a thing or two about putting their canine patients first, but the fact that Annie was put through two anaesthetics in two days due to such a basic blunder makes my blood boil.

The good news is that she’s making a great recovery and as the picture above shows, she seems very happy to finally be rid of the plate that once held her together.  Here’s hoping that we can now, finally draw a line under the Annie’s leg saga.

 

 

Little Bear finds a shady spot

Little Bear finds a shady spot

When it’s hot its hard to keep dogs properly exercised without the risk that they’ll over-heat. Little Bear especially finds the warm weather quite tough and although he knows his limits, it still leaves us with a problem: One very bright, very active little dog who has no outlet for all his get up and go.  As we know ourselves, being happily tired after a good workout is very different to the lethargy that sets in when it’s just too hot to move.

Putting the fun back 

So this morning , before the day had chance to hot up, we booked the local agility course with a friend of ours. LB has done agility before. We had a couple of one-to-one lessons and then joined a group class. Given his anxiety levels, the group class was incredibly challenging, but he coped admirably and seemed to forget about the other dogs once he was doing the course.

Teaching resilience

He’s loved agility from the off and proved that although he wasn’t built for speed or endurance, he’s a brave little chap.  To my utter amazement he tackled a full height A frame on his first ever session (see the video here).

Taking a break at the end of the session

Taking a break at the end of the session

I was reminded of this today as he lost his footing on the walkway but pressed on regardless. Then again when he misjudged a jump and took a tumble. He picked himself up and with a bit of lighthearted encouragement took the same jump again and again as if to prove it hadn’t beaten him.

 Building confidence

Nervous dogs usually lack confidence and depending on their temperament, use either aggression or retreat (fight or flight) as their only means of coping with the things that scare them.  Watching LB face his fears today and overcome them so swiftly was a timely reminder of how I need to be constantly finding ways to build his confidence and boost his resilience. The other bonus is that before the sun had had a chance to take too much of a hold, Annie and Bear were back home, happily tired, mentally stimulated and quickly snoozing.

This is Little Bear hiding under my desk thanks to a raging summer storm. He’s a shaking, panting ball of stress & the worst thing is there’s not much I can do to help him.

He’s had some KalmAid and I’ve done some T-Touch but now all we can do is ride it out until the storm passes.

Old School
When he was a puppy the old trainer told me to ignore “such silly behaviour” (her words not mine) to avoid reinforcing it. This may work for jumping up, but the idea that ignoring an animal in obvious distress would somehow help them deal with their fear is not just unkind it’s misguided.

LB is in no state to think or learn as he quivers and shakes under my desk at the loud claps of thunder that to a dogs sensitive ears must be unbearable. So the only learning he’ll be doing today is that there’s a safe and comforting lap when he needs one, legs to hide behind and soft words to do what little they can to reassure him.

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Where's Bear?

Where’s Bear?

With the warm weather persisting, walking the dogs has become an exercise in trying to dodge the heat. We were lucky today because the morning stayed cool right up until lunchtime but even so, Little Bear still needed to take some time out to have a rest.

His favourite medium of choice is clover, which of course prompts a swift chorus of ‘Roll me over in the clover’ from yours truly, but failing that, he’s quite partial to some long grass.  He disappeared so completely into it this morning that it took a while to find him. If he keeps this up I’ll have to start a Schnauzer version of Where’s Wally.

The clover shot is for pure cuteness.

Clover Bear