Things Your Dog Trainer May Not Tell You

                                                                                        

I get a kick out of reading the various lists people compile that show up on my computer.  You know the type of thing:  Ten Things Restaurant Staff Won’t Tell You, Things Flight Attendants Won’t Tell You, Things the Kid at the Drive-Thru Window Won’t Tell You, Things Your Beautician Won’t Tell You, and really important information like that.  I decided to make my own list – Ten Things Your Dog Trainer May Not Tell You.

 

1.      Most of the time the owner is the challenge, not the dog.  We can train almost any dog, at least to some extent, but sometimes we have great difficulty teaching you how to work with your dog.

 

2.      We don’t like every breed of dog and may groan when one is enrolled in class.  Every trainer has breeds they really don’t like.  If we’re good at what we do, you won’t know if you have one of those.  And we can usually find something to like in every dog.

 

3.      We can tell if you did any work with your dog during the week.  A big part of dog training is taking what you learned in class and working with your dog at home during the week.  Training is a daily process.  It needn’t be time-consuming – a couple of short sessions a day can get the job done – but training only once or twice a week just isn’t going to cut it.

 

4.      We can make almost any dog in class look good – at least a couple of times.  It requires talent, timing, good physical and verbal cues, and a confident demeanor. Add the fact that the dog isn’t used to working with us and will be caught a bit off-guard, and he will probably perform as well as he can. 

 

5.      You may be the most inept trainer in class but, if you’re really trying, we’ll keep working with you.  Not every student can master the skills of timing and consistency, but we’ll stick with you so that you can end up with a well-trained pet.

 

6.      You may have the dumbest dog in class, but if you’re really working hard to get through his thick skull we’ll keep working with you to get the result you want.  Not every dog is brilliant.  They all learn at different speeds, and some need quite a bit of repetition to learn new skills. 

 

7.      We are (or should be) familiar with several different methods to train each skill.  Sometimes a dog that is thought to be stubborn or stupid just needs the lesson presented in a different manner.  We should be open to learning everything we can on a continuing basis so that we can be the best possible trainers and teachers.
 

      8.      We are experts at reading canine body language. This gives us a key to finding the most
             effective method to work with each individual dog.

 

9.      Our own dogs may not all be perfectly trained.   At the end of the day after working with people and their dogs, we may not have the energy to do much training with our own.  Speaking for myself, my personal dogs may not be as well trained as they were years ago when I competed in Obedience Trials, but they’re all trained to a point where they are great companions that make me happy.

 

10.  Sadly, we don’t know everything and can’t fix everything.  Poor genetics, bad early experiences, high levels of anxiety or fear, extreme aggression, the owner’s household dynamics – these things and more can sometimes make it extremely difficult to eliminate unwanted behavior. 

 

Dog training isn’t just a job.  When it’s done well, it’s an art form.  Connecting with a dog by understanding how he learns and then helping him understand what we would like him to do takes patience and skill.   Teaching dog owners takes skill as well.  We often must be part psychologist, schoolteacher, magician, lion tamer, and sometimes even therapist.  It’s an interesting job!

 

 By Dorothy Miner

Dorothy Miner is a long-time dog obedience and tracking instructor, judge of canine events, and author.  She teaches weekly classes for the Allen Oakwood Correctional Institution’s PETS Program and provides training and consultation under the banner of “Sidekicks” and “Training for Dogs and Their People.”

Growing Old With Robbie

                                                                     

                          Veterinary medicine is a family affair in our household. My husband and I have been practicing together for 30 years now and we eat, drink and sleep with animals by our sides. We have been through generations of our own pets, and the current generation of dogs is now growing old together. Our half-sibling Border Collies, Robbie and Jimmy, are now 13 and 10 years old, respectively. Welsh Corgi Betsy Louise is riding the crest of middle age and still bossing the Border Collies around. Soon she, too, will be a senior citizen.

                        While Betsy may think she is "large and in charge," it is only because alpha dog, Robbie, lets her believe so, and pleasant boy, Jimmy, chooses to concede on the matter. (I like to think he is "too smart" to challenge one female dog, let alone two.)

                        Robbie celebrated her 13th birthday last December and little things are cropping up that remind me every day with her now is a bonus. Epilepsy has been a part of Robbie's life since she turned three. Unfortunately, her genetic epilepsy has been typical of many of her breed, as she falls into "the most difficult to manage" category. In fact, over the duration of my  career, she has been THE most difficult.

                        Robbie is on two different anticonvulsants twice daily, and high doses of them. Missing a dose is NEVER an option, and timing is of the essence. So much so, that my husband has alarms set on his phone for precise and consistent dosing. We also make use of, not one, but two daily pill boxes: one for her morning medications and a second for the evening. One of her epilepsy medications has begun to impact her liver so she now takes a geriatric multivitamin, Vitamin E and a liver supplement called "Denamarin"  to help her liver work more efficiently.

                        Because her anticonvulsants make her drink and urinate more, and because female dogs often develop estrogen-deficient urinary incontinence, Robbie also receives an estrogen-like incontinence medication called "Incurin" twice weekly. Many of my clients often lament that their dog is on more medications than they are...I feel their pain now.

                        Anyone who knows my husband also knows that he and Robbie are pretty much inseparable. But, what is frustrating to me, and most anyone else in the same room with this "man and his dog," is that Robbie does not acknowledge the existence of others when "her person" is around. That means following commands from others is simply not going to happen for her.

                        Robbie is highly intelligent. So much so that she has claimed the title of the best working dog we have ever owned. That title, however, has come at a price. Every working dog demonstrates great athleticism and Robbie is no exception. I have witnessed her scale four foot gates in one leap, straight up and over, from a standing position. She was also "lightning- fast" on her outruns to bring sheep flocks in.

                        The toll she has paid for doing her job well is the development of osteoarthritis, especially in her hips. For this problem she receives a fish oil capsule and chewable joint supplement called "Dasuquin." Occasional doses of pain medication are doled out to aid her quality of life as needed.

                        As her golden years have crept up on her, we notice that "down time" is even more precious to Robbie, and awakening her is more challenging. It's not unusual to ask her more than once if she wants to get up to go outside. Once outside, we are careful to not let her stray too far as her hearing is not great anymore. Bleating sheep during chore times and age have stolen more than a few decibels from her.  In short, her "selective deafness" was not her choice, just a casualty of her job and age.

                        So, as I'm tripping over this "love of my husband's life" that can't move fast enough to get out of my way anymore, and realizing for the 900th time that even if she could hear me well, she wouldn't listen anyhow, I think to myself "There by the grace of God go I"---in several years. The difference is I will be able to tell others what I am feeling and what troubles me. Four-legged family members cannot.

                         Please don't ignore your aging pet's non-verbal cues and cries for help. Discuss any changes in your senior pet's behaviors, appetite and attitude with your veterinarian as soon as possible. Let us help make your pet's golden period more golden, for them and for you.
 

By Dr. Bonnie Jones

Dr. Bonnie Jones practices at Delphos Animal Hospital. Providing care for senior pets is one of her greatest passions.

Bark for Life Is "A Walk Woof Taking"

                                                                       

                           My brother is dying. His journey is a very sad one. Last summer he developed back pain. Everyone has back pain occasionally; some even live with it all the time. It is no surprise that anyone with this kind of discomfort would try to treat it on their own, or live with the pain. And that is what my brother did. He ignored the nagging pain, until he could no longer, then he scheduled a visit with his doctor.

                        Thus began his journey, a journey I truly wish he wasn't on. Exams were done and tests were ordered, including a PET Scan. Sadly, the lining of my brother's abdomen lit up like a Christmas tree full of neon lights as the radioactive tracers injected into his vein identified the source of his "back pain."  He was now at war with B-Cell Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma ravaging  his "peritoneum," the membrane that lines the abdominal cavity and  covers most of the abdominal organs.

                        Peritoneal cancer is rare and acts and looks like ovarian cancer. Obviously, this cancer should be more common in women, and it is...talk about stupid, bad luck. My brother is a true victim of just that.

                        With an attitude to beat the unlikely odds, he began his chemotherapy: four, maybe six rounds, depending on his response. Every round of treatment bounced him back in to the hospital as he developed low blood cell counts, anemia, fevers and infections. Still, he fought to hear the news after round four that his cancer had improved by 90%.

                        The very next day after receiving this joyful news in the end of January, he fell ill and was hospitalized again. Then,  late into the evening hours, lying in his hospital bed, it happened. My brother had cardiac arrest that stole 10 minutes of his life while the astute and heroic staff at the Avon Cleveland Clinic worked tirelessly and successfully to resuscitate him.

                        Little did he, or we, his loved ones, know that the next leg of his journey would prove to be even more grueling. My brother, you see, has been in a hospital bed since January 31st, and he will never go home.

                        Did I mention that I hate stupid cancer??

                        While my brother is fighting this fight some 200 miles away from me, I think about him every single day, wishing his journey with suffering would end, knowing it's a choice I cannot make for him. I can, however, turn to my loved ones, to seek comfort from my own sadness as I grieve for my brother's plight. My loved ones, by the way, are both two-legged and four.

                        Frequent phone calls and text messages with my other siblings help to acknowledge my feelings of helplessness and sorrow, as they share the same. When not communicating with them, however, I turn to my other loved ones...those with four legs.

                        I've always known that animals bring comfort to humans. As a veterinarian, I witness this phenomenon every day. But, now it is I who needs comfort, as I am a spectator on the sideline watching my brother be defeated.

                        By choice, my husband and I surround ourselves with no less than four house pets at a time. Each one of them provides us with unconditional love, joy and happiness. So, when my grief becomes overwhelming, I instantly reach for one of them and I feel my sadness abate as my blood pressure sinks and I begin to feel uplifted.

                        For me, pets ARE "the best medicine" of all, and the ultimate caregivers. I witness the power of their healing every day in my profession and that is why I promise you that the American Cancer Society's Bark for Life fundraising event is "a walk woof taking." This mini-relay honors the life-long contributions of canine caregivers and empowers people, through their canine partnerships, to contribute to cancer cures via the mission of the American Cancer Society.

                        While I am more than aware that my efforts to stop cancer will not help my brother, I can only hope that I might impact the future health and lives of his children and grandchildren.  I ask you to join me and so many others to help "Finish the Fight." The life you save may be your own.

By Dr. Bonnie Jones

Dr. Bonnie Jones has been practicing at Delphos Animal Hospital since 1987.

An Homage to a Special Mom

                                                                 

            Life on the farm can be tough. And sometimes, it can be downright cruel. I experienced one of those moments a few weeks ago. Less than twelve hours later, a second tragedy occurred. But just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, something wonderful happened. The result of which couldn't have been better had it been written by a Hollywood screenwriter.

            The drama began in the morning of the second Friday in March, right in the heart of- you guessed it- lambing season. One of my oldest ewes, "1114", gave birth to triplets- two girls and a boy. Everything seemed to be fine. The mom was very attentive to the lambs, and they were all nursing. In spite of their full bellies, I was a little concerned she might not have enough milk for three, but I would worry about that when I got home from work.

            Upon my return, I quickly glanced into their pen on my way to check the pregnant ewes for any new births. What I saw was the ewe resting peacefully in a back corner with her lambs nestled around her. When I passed by again, closer observation revealed she wasn't resting. She was dead!

            Raising orphan lambs is not high on my list of favorite things to do. Though feeding them the first few times is kind of fun, I guess, and the lambs always seem so grateful. "Nobody ever likes you as much as a bottle lamb," I often say.

            But to take on that task is a huge commitment in time, and milk replacer is not cheap by any means. Nevertheless, I had no other option, so I mixed up some replacer, and did what had to be done. At least they were vigorous suckers.

            The next morning I checked the pregnant ewes before feeding them, as I always do, and didn't notice any new lambs. But when all the ewes were eating with their heads forward and rear ends toward me, one ewe about halfway down the line had afterbirth hanging from her "lady parts." Two big, dead lambs were found, hidden behind a round bale feeder.

            I must have been somewhat shaken from the loss, because a few minutes passed before the obvious dawned on me. "Catch that ewe!" Fortunately, "1368" was still eating the last remnants of corn, and had enough other ewes around her, that I was able to get her caught and haltered.

            As I half led and half wrestled the ewe back to the pen of orphans, I truly didn't know what I was going to do next. My track record of grafting orphan or rejected lambs onto foster ewes isn't great. A successful graft requires time and patience, neither of which I had this busy Saturday morning. So I decided my goal would be to provide a good meal for the triplets, and like the day before, worry about the rest later.

            I tied the ewe in the pen expecting her to jump, and maybe even kick at the lambs, like many ewes do when strange babies try to nurse on them. But she didn't move, not even a little. And the lambs were really going to town on her udder, so to speak.

            After a couple of minutes, I untied the halter and all she did was munch on some hay. A moment later, I removed the halter entirely. That's when I saw the first hint of trouble- a nudge. She pushed one of the lambs away from her udder.

            "That's it," I thought to myself. "The rejection process has begun." Then she nudged him again. Only this time it was back toward the udder. It appeared the first nudge was merely misdirected, not malicious. Apparently, I caught "1368" at just the right time, a hormonal window of opportunity where she felt compelled to be a mom, and those lambs were more than willing to oblige.

            Although "1368" ultimately didn't have enough milk to support all the lambs, and they required some supplementation, that was okay with me. What she did to help ease the burden of caring for three orphan lambs was much appreciated. But what she did to provide those lambs a real family experience was a godsend.

             After all, they make a replacer for milk. They don't make a replacer for moms. And to have a mom is really the most important thing.

 

By Dr. John H. Jones

Pet Cancer Awareness: Fighting the Fight for Pets

                                                       

                                Those who know me well, probably would say I am passionate about two things:  veterinary medicine and ending the fight against cancer. 

                                My greatest frustration is diagnosing cancer in pets or learning about a loved one with cancer that has lurked in their bodies too long.  As time marches on, I am witnessing the loss of many people, and just as many pets, to cancer. Sadly, the leading cause of death in older cats and dogs IS cancer.           To that end, I would like to share the following to help you prevent and fight cancer in pets.

                                Probably the most obvious advice I have is never "watch  a lump  grow!"  All too often, pet owners tell me they are "keeping an eye" on their pet's lump.  After a moment of discomfort, I suggest that the lump either be aspirated to examine some cells under the microscope, or removed and biopsied. The peace of mind that comes with these options can be huge.

                                If a growth is benign (harmless) like a fatty tumor, you can be informed within minutes of an aspirate. And, EARLY surgical removal and biopsy of a suspicious lump, can result in a cure. If an aspirate proves  a growth is benign, you may be able to continue to monitor that lump for rapid growth or changes in shape or texture that warrant a second look.

                                Occasionally pets are presented to veterinarians when owners find noticeably enlarged lumps under the pet's jaw line. These swellings are lymph nodes, and when these and other lymph nodes  located behind the knees , in front of the shoulders or in the armpits are enlarged, the likely diagnosis is "lymphoma" (cancer of the lymph system). Biopsy or aspiration of these nodes will aid the diagnosis of lymphoma, considered by many to be the most treatable cancer in pets.

                                On to the mouth...if your pet's breath suddenly becomes atrocious, oral cancer may be lurking. Tumors in the mouth are not uncommon and tend to be one of three  types: squamous cell carcinoma, melanoma or fibrosarcoma.  Each tends to be malignant, but they can sometimes be cured with early detection.  Keep in mind, that something as simple as brushing your pet's teeth everyday can alert you to an early oral tumor as you may observe an unusual odor or lump upon daily dental inspection.

                                Note that any unexplained bleeding from the mouth, gums, nose, vagina, or penis that is not due to injury, should be brought to your veterinarian's attention. Bleeding disorders do occur in pets, but they are usually diagnosed when pets are younger.  Bleeding in an older pet warrants immediate exploration for a cause which could be cancer, and time is of the essence!

                                While there are numerous reasons why pets cough, a dry, non-productive cough by cats or dogs is the most common sign of lung cancer. Your veterinarian will recommend  chest x-rays to further diagnose your pet's cough.  Consider that chest x-rays can provide great peace of mind when your veterinarian delivers the news that your pet's diagnosis is NOT cancer. 

                                Weight loss, distention of your pet's abdomen, vomiting or diarrhea will also warrant x-rays or ultrasound to find cancers of the intestinal tract or outside the abdominal organs. Masses located outside the organs can be benign and just take up space , or serious tumors could be growing in the spleen or liver that may cause abdominal bleeding and collapse.  The good news is expedient surgical removal  of abdominal masses can sometimes provide a cure. 

                                Persistent straining to urinate or bloody urine not responsive to antibiotics can be a sign of bladder or prostatic cancers. Abdominal ultrasound or bladder biopsies are instrumental in diagnosing urogenital cancers. Familiarity with your pet's  elimination habits will help you detect changes as soon as they occur, and these should be reported to your veterinarian as soon as possible.

                                Finally, many older pets limp, but if your senior pet develops a new or different limp, it warrants a trip to your veterinarian, especially if your pet is a large breed dog. Unfortunately, bone cancers are diagnosed all too commonly and this cancer, called osteosarcoma, needs aggressive, immediate pain control and treatment.

                                Please be your pet's best advocate! Partner up with your veterinarian to always be on the lookout for signs of cancer. Together, we can help your cat "Call for a Cure" and your dog "Bark for Life!" 

 

By Dr. Bonnie Jones

Making the Best of Things

                                                                      

It’s a sad fact of life that sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want.  This definitely applies to dog ownership.  Maybe you had unrealistic expectations for your dog or made a poor choice of breeds for the life you lead.  Maybe you didn’t realize how much training a new dog needs.  Maybe you forgot how much trouble puppies can get into.  Whatever the reason, sometimes “perfect” just isn’t going to happen – at least not right away.

I have many clients whose dogs don’t behave the way they expected them to.  Sometimes the fix is fairly simple – owner education, increased exercise, training, and maybe a bit of behavior modification.  Sometimes it’s not so simple.  A frequent problem is that the client simply chose the wrong breed for his or her living situation.   The dog is too big, too active, or too strong for the owner, or the breed is not known for being easy to train and socialize.  My goal as a trainer is help the owner be happy with the dog he or she has by teaching ways to deal with challenges that come up, and to help find ways for the dog to lead a happy life. 

Too many people choose their dogs for the wrong reasons.  They felt sorry for a puppy in a pet store or flea market and brought it home, not thinking about what kind of life they could offer this dog.  Or they bought it on impulse.  They chose a breed because of its appearance and image or because it’s trendy, not knowing how much work they would have to put in to make it a satisfactory pet.  They chose a dog requiring large amounts of exercise or work daily to keep it sane, even though their schedules would not allow for this. 

The good news is that owners can usually make things work if they’re willing to take on a long-term commitment.  If the problem is the dog’s need for more exercise than you can give it, check out a good doggy daycare facility.  Try an Agility class or other active dog sport.  Hire a responsible kid to walk or run the dog daily. 

 

There are ways for “workaholic” dogs – those who need jobs - to be great pets.  There are interactive toys are on the market that will allow a dog to “hunt” for treats or work puzzles with his snout and paws to get rewards.  They can also be taught to do household jobs such as putting away their toys or carrying things for the owner. They thrive on training and take well to learning skills and tricks.  Creativity will help the owner come up with meaningful work for these dogs.

There is even hope for the imp-puppy from Hell who chews everything, bites hands, soils carpets, tries to herd the kids, guards its toys, and makes you question why you keep him.  Learn the tools of the trade for “civilizing” young puppies.  Understand that the solution to most puppy problems is closer supervision.  

 

Gently teach him limits – no chewing, biting, digging, etc.  Teach him to rest quietly in a crate or cage with a special toy or chewy for short periods when you need a time out.  Patience is crucial because - training or not - puppies are a handful.  Age will solve a lot of problems, along with a little work.

If the situation involves one of the “image” breeds (Rottweilers, Bully breeds, Mastiffs, etc.) a of training and socialization is absolutely required.  They can be wonderful pets, but their owners must be prepared for the responsibility of owning large, powerful animals.  If the choice was a high-energy “Doodle” or terrier, there may not be such a thing as too much exercise for the dog.  They’re smart, too, and if they aren’t adequately trained they’ll use those awesome brains on something that might not make you happy.

In short, most problems with dogs can be resolved.  But solutions don’t come without work.  If you absolutely must have perfection, maybe a stuffed toy might have been a better choice, but they’re not near as much fun as the real thing.

 

 

By Dorothy Miner 

Dorothy Miner is a long-time dog obedience and tracking instructor, judge of canine events, and author.  She teaches weekly classes for the Allen Oakwood Correctional Institution’s PETS Program and provides training and consultation under the banner of “Sidekicks” and “Training for Dogs and Their People.”

The Rainbow Bridge: A Veterinary Technician's Perspective

            The Rainbow Bridge. The safe, happy place our beloved pets go after they have brought so much love. No one wants to think about a pet’s passing, that they will ever leave us. I’d like to think that my pets will outlast me.

            My husband and I are surrounded by happy critters: our dogs, Copenhagen, Tilly and Philo, and our cats...Stella and Sambo.  Each day we have the pleasure of returning home to be greeted by these happy, four-legged kids.

            As a veterinary technician, I have the opportunity to share joyous moments with clients daily. I get to hold and snuggle puppies with a pocketful of treats to hand out, even if my patient jumps on the cupboards. I walk into the hospital every morning, knowing that there will be clients to teach and pets to care for. But as vet techs, we are also there to comfort.

            Yes, first time puppy ownership is scary--- we are there to answer those not so silly questions. Vaccine pokes and bloods draws are terrifying--- we are there to hold and comfort. The dreaded scale! Don’t worry, we will be right there. Vet techs help loved ones trust that everything will be okay. Comfort isn’t something we do only for our patients, but that we do for clients as well as we build strong relationship with them every day.

            So the question is why am I writing about trust and comfort between clients and veterinary technicians? Because I have wanted to---simple as that. Yes, we get to see all the happy times, and some of the scary times. But, we also see the pain of broken hearts when it’s time to let our pets go.

            Just a little about me...while in high school, I loved working in a small town veterinary clinic. It was the highlight of my day. I didn’t have technician training yet, but I did my best to learn fast and help in any way I could.

            There was one Monday I’ll never forget. I had a final exam that afternoon and it was the only thing I could think about. The veterinarian told me a euthanasia was scheduled that morning and that I would need to assist. When the family and their Labrador arrived, they were in tears. I put my head down and followed them into the room. They said many good-byes as I held the beloved dog for his last breaths while the doctor administered the injection.

            But, wait…why did I not feel the same way they did? I know I said that I would keep them in my thoughts and prayers, but did I mean it?

            Time went on, and I  helped with many more euthanasias, thinking that same thing, and going on with my day. Then something changed.

            My first dog was a Siberian Husky named "Holly." She was a blessing to my family, and she was 13 years old when cancer consumed her body. Now I’m the family in the exam room with tears flowing, and I realize I’m looking for comfort, comfort and trust. The first face I see is that of the vet tech. The way she was there for us was eye-opening. There were no hugs or words shared, just comfort knowing that my Holly was going to be okay. 

            She then crossed it...Holly crossed The Rainbow Bridge.

            From that day, I knew why I wanted to be a veterinary technician. I wanted to help the patients, but I also wanted to be there for the clients. I want them to know  I am here to help, to hold your loved one through your good-byes and tears. I now find myself weeping with families, then hiding in the bathroom at work until my eyes dry up.

             We hurt with the families, and our hearts break, too. We do it because we are needed most in those moments. Some days I wish my job was to just play with fluffy animals. But, instead, I get to help. I get to comfort.

            Those last moments with our furry family members are not something we want to think about. But know that if you want hugs, we have open arms. If you want to cry, we will be there with comforting words and tissues. And, if you want to talk about good times and laugh, we will find Dr. John to tell some jokes.

            Just know, you are not alone. It’s not scary. Our pets will be free of pain and suffering as they cross over that bridge.  And know that there will be a vet tech with you the whole way.

 

By Sarah Burford, VT

Sarah (Koeneman) Burford, VT is a graduate of the Vet Tech Institute of International Business College in Fort Wayne, Indiana. She provides care and comfort to the clients and pets at Delphos Animal Hospital.