Helping a withdrawn dog acclimate to your home

Sometimes I get requests about helping a dog acclimate to her new home. This is particularly important for dogs that have come from large-scale breeding facilities, but it can also be used for any dogs that tend to withdraw from human contact, cower, crawl under furniture, avert their eyes, engage in lip licking when in the presence of humans, etc.  

First things first: Make sure you take your time. Don't expect the dog to start liking you immediately, even if you do share high-value treats. 

Second, approach your training sessions with a quiet sense of humor. Sometimes working with a dog that doesn't want to be around you can be frustrating. If allow yourself to relax and smile while you're training, chances are good that you won't send the withdrawn dog conflicting messages.  

I also recommend:

1. Giving her time to acclimate without too much interference from you,
2. Keeping your household quiet--with as few outside visitors as possible at the outset,
    (I recommend a 2-week shutdown when bringing new dogs into the home.)

3. Allowing her a place to retreat to for a couple of days, a small, quiet room with a crate in it,

4. Bringing her into your living space gradually, and

    (Typically, I use an x-pen/puppy pen with her "safe" items in it and place it in a room with activity so she can observe me without having to interact.)

5. Praising her calmly and quietly when she does interact, possibly using treats.

There's more, of course, but this is a start.

To increase her confidence around the members of your household, you might want to have them randomly drop small treats and kibble when she's in their vicinity. That is, of course, if she's willing to take treats.

If not, take a deep breath, roll your shoulders, and give yourself and your dog a break. You can always try again later. 

Fireworks, Storms, & Dogs

For those of you in Minnesota who witnessed the ferocious storms of the past two weeks, it goes without saying that storms and dogs don't mix. As the long holiday weekend with the accompanying fireworks approaches, the stress on your dogs is likely to continue.

Over the years, I have observed many dogs exhibiting signs of stress from both storms and fireworks and have developed some strategies for lessening my dogs' tension. While I can't promise a perfect solution that works for all dogs, I have found the following help many:

1. To the best of your ability, remove your dog from the source of stress. Personally, I don't take dogs to see fireworks. Years ago, after watching water birds panicking as fireworks exploded overhead, it occurred to me that many dogs have similar reactions. I realized that I didn't want to subject my dogs to the types of stress they're likely to experience at fireworks displays. If your family attends them, perhaps your dogs will be more comfortable at home.

If you are at home and your dog is still nervous, place him in an interior room, one with no windows and the most sound proofing possible. Often bathrooms work well.

2. Give your dog something small, like a properly-sized crate, to retreat into. If you don't have a crate, create a makeshift structure by placing a blanket over a coffee table or similar piece of furniture that your dog can fit under comfortably. You may also want to put some of your dog's favorite things inside. Do not,however, force your dog into the confined area.

3. Use calming wraps. There is a plethora of calming products on the market today. I like and carry the Anxiety Wrap and Thundershirt. To see if such approaches might work for your dog, search "Tellington TTouch wrap" for instructions on how to make your own body wrap in seconds from a simple ace bandage.

Both Anxiety Wrap and Thundershirt have designed additional products to reduce stress. See, for example, the Quiet Dog Face Wrap and the Calming Cap.

4. Calm your dog through his olfactory sense. Essential oils are a great option, here. I like and carry frankincense and lavender, as well as doTerra's balance and serenity blends and apply them to the pads of my dogs' feet or along their ears.

In addition to essential oils, you can use D.A.P.s, or simulated pheromones that mimic lactating mothers. If you wish to use a diffuser, it will take a couple of weeks to reach full strength in your house. For the short term, try using a spray, instead. I've had good luck with Comfort Zone products.

5. Play soothing music for your dog. It may seem unbelievable, but music can calm dogs. I've begun Canine Lullabies at Giffy dog. If you'd like to sample it for yourself, visit their website for a free song and to see video of dogs calming as they listen to it.
carrying

6. Exhibit calming signals. I talk about these a lot in my training, but they can be particularly useful during periods of stress. When a dog is getting stressed, she will often lick her lips, lift her front paw, yawn, lower her head, etc. to demonstrate that she's getting nervous. If you mimic the calming signals back to her, she will probably begin to relax quickly. 
 
The most important thing you can do, though? Be calm yourself. Understand that your dog's anxiety is real and being near you calms her down.

Let's hope we don't have any more storms, and I wish you a happy, healthy, peaceful 4th. 

Inverview with Cathy Menard, Urban Dog

Last week, I had the wonderful opportunity to have another conversation with Cathy Menard of Urban Dog, who kindly allowed me to chat with her for part of the Pet Connections show on AM950 before I trotted off to a consult.

Here's the link.

Enjoy!

Wouldn't it be nice if our pets would do this?

A few months ago, I received an email with the previous subject line and opened it to find a video link to Jesse, an energetic Jack Russell who clearly loves to "work!" And he is, truly, an impressive dog.

But notice that Jesse doesn't seem to view it as work, and I'm betting his person doesn't, either. Everything about their relationship seems based on mutual respect and fun.

If you take some time and review older videos of Jesse, you'll see that, after he completes tasks, Jesse looks up to his person for a treat, an indication that he has been trained using positive reinforcement. When he does something desirable, he looks to his human for a "reward." Chances are, that reward is probably a treat. From what I've read, Jesse was clicker trained, which is a great method for those of you who are prepared to train consistently and reward positive behavior immediately.

So, don't despair. Jesse is not better than your dog; he's just had more training. You'll find that your dog can do amazing things, too, when you work with positive rewards. Rather than correcting your dog when she does something wrong, try praising her lavishly when she does something right, instead.

And you'll quickly find that you can teach your old dog new tricks.

Don't forget: Have fun! And happy training!

Spring has sprung, and with it, gastrointestinal distress . . .

Each spring, I feed my dogs a tasty mixture on top of their meals based on foods that my vet recommends to keep parasites at bay. While it won't work for ticks (to the best of my knowledge--although doTerra does offer some great oils on that front), it does seem to keep my dogs' stomachs relatively calm:

1 quart yogurt (Dannon) or kefir
1/2 lemon squeezed
1/2 c. carrot juice or 2 grated carrots
1/4 c. sunflower or pumpkin seeds, roughly chopped (try a mortar and pestle)
1/2 c. C & H Brown or organic cane sugar

Optional:
1/2 c. blueberries/blueberry juice

Now, I've had complaints that this is a lot. True! But with the number of dogs I have coming and going, it is the perfect quantity for my house.  I simply scoop a tablespoon or two on top of their dog food and watch them enjoy. By the way, I eat it, too, but I do so sans dog food.

And, a confession, I don't measure, so all quantities are estimates!

Why adopt a geriatric dog?

Last night I found myself filling out the paperwork for a dog I’ve been fostering for a year and a half. It was time. Bear’s been in and out of my life for nearly 10 years now, and I realized why it’s taken me so long to find him the perfect forever home: I wasn’t ready to send him off into the unknown again, not this late in his life.

I was reminded, as I filled out the adoption paperwork, of another geriatric dog I adopted nearly a decade ago. Muffin was my first, an 11-year-old red Pom-schipperke cross that had been brought to a veterinarian to be euthanized after her person died. The vet, whose name I never learned, decided to place her in rescue and found Second Chance a month after she was confined to a cage at the clinic. Her eyes, when she first arrived at my house, were flat; her mottled coat suggested that she probably didn’t have much time left, either, but she bounced back quickly. I little bit of love and freedom, and the light returned to her eyes, followed by a feisty personality. After a month or two, I adopted her into a home that seemed to be a good fit for her, until the family called me to tell me that Muffin was biting the family members.

I was disappointed, but not surprised—although I hadn’t seen that behavior in my home. Eventually, a second home surfaced and then returned her after Muffin began nipping family members for confining her to a bathroom. I began to dawn on me that Muffin wanted to retire to my house. And, although I had no plans to adopt a dog at that point in my life, I did. I allowed my heart to open up to this little dog that wasn’t going to win any more beauty pageants.

Three weeks after I adopted her, I noticed a change in Muffin’s breathing. Visits to the vet. X-rays. Trips to the University of Minnesota. More tests. Ultrasounds. Ultimately, I learned the source of her stress. Muffin was suffering from collapsed trachea and bronchi, congestive heart failure, and chronic pneumonia. Tracheal flushes. Medication every day. Vet bills amounting to hundreds of dollars each month. I wondered what I was doing. And vet visit after vet visit, I asked the same question: “Is it time?” Regardless of the vet, the answer was consistently, “No.”

Muffin, you see, was a spitfire. She was happy in her retirement home; we were a great team, and she made me laugh and smile every day, despite vet visits and medications and the fact that her fur was beginning to resemble a muppet’s. She lived for more than a year longer, until one day the man I was dating gently pointed out that the medications were no longer controlling her breathing, that she was struggling to get air. It was time.

Muffin left this world with the same pluck she lived in it. She did not go gently into that good night, but that was part of our journey together, too. In our final moments together, I realized I couldn’t imagine my life without her even though I had only known her for two years. Muffin enriched my life daily, and I know I’m a better person for having known her.

Now I look at Bear, who has suffered a different set of experiences than Muffin, but no less challenging. I’ve known him since he was 4-years-old, when I first placed him in a “forever,” but for some reason I’ll never understand, that wasn’t our final meeting. And he’s not the same dog that he was in 2004. He doesn’t have the same energy, and his smells are a little stronger than they used to be. His body is more tired, too. Overall, he’s got less curb appeal than he did then, at least to the untrained eye.

But to me? I see wisdom in him and a quiet acceptance of his life. He can curl up in my arms for hours, or anyone’s for that matter. He’s content to rest his bones sleeping in a patch of sun on the floor, and he’s happy just to get a meal and a few strokes. He gladly accepts the affection I give him, but unlike the younger dogs in my house, doesn’t ask for it. Because Bear asks for so little, I become more aware of him, notice him following me from room to room or waiting at the bottom of the stairs when I run up them. I try to give him everything he could want. Often, I carry him up and down the stairs with me, place soft bedding on the floor for him to lie one, bring him on visits to people who will allow him to rest in their arms, and indulge his insistent barking as I prepare his meals, his only obsession.

It’s a quiet, gentle relationship, one based on acceptance and trust, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. To know a geriatric rescue dog is to love him, as I love Bear. And whether we have 6 months together, or a year, it doesn’t matter.

The only thing that really matters is that he’s home—at last.

Pet Connections Podcast

I'm so incredibly lucky have such great friends and supporters, and a special thanks to Cathy Menard, owner of Urban Dog, who invited me to join her on her radio show this morning: Pet Connections. If you didn't have a chance to check it out, here's a recording.

And if you need an extraordinary local business to help you with your dog walking and boarding needs, please check out Urban Dog.

Thanks to everyone who listened!