The Katzke Dog Diary

You know that sixth sense that parents have? The one that leads them to sit up in bed fifteen years after their son or daughter’s moved out of the house? I’m starting to develop that with the dogs.

Woke up this morning at 5:30. Henry had been sleeping up in the bed with me because he hadn’t been feeling good and he’s not insistent enough if he’s in the kennel. He wasn’t next to me, but his spot was still warm. I heard his nails pacing back and forth on the wood laminate in the kitchen, so I let him out.

But something still wasn’t right. I couldn’t put a finger on it. I didn’t smell anything, I didn’t hear anything, and with a glance back over my shoulder out the door I saw that he picked the first spot he could find to poop in… par for the course when he’s not feeling good.

I walked into the living room, and in the corner of the house the farthest from the bedroom, he had pooped on the floor. No problem, got a rag and some bleach/lysol cleanup spray. Wait, what’s that? Oh, that’s blood. That’s not good! Using a paper towel and a spare medication container from the recycling bin (Hey, there’s times when it’s GOOD to be a packrat!) I scooped up a sample including some blood and immediately refrigerated it.

The diagnosis is post-surgical stress-induced colitis, and the prescription is a day’s fast followed by a couple days of sensitive tummy science diet, and a week’s run of Metronidazole just to be sure. I’m so lucky to have a vet (Boonville Animal Hospital in Bryan TX) that’s understanding when you page them at 6am and whose doctors can remember enough of your pet’s case history to be able to help you without forcing you to go to the 24 hour emergency clinic. It turned out that Dr. Glade was about to head into the clinic anyway to check on some cases when his pager went off, so I met him there. He ended up not needing the fecal since the diagnosis was pretty clear but appreciated that I’d taken it.

Poor Henry. He’s probably been in a lot of pain from the neuter, but he hasn’t let one ounce of it show.

I found this post about a person having guilt about wanting to return a rescue really struck a chord with me. You can easily figure out which post in that thread is mine by the dog descriptions, but what I loved most were all the testimonials about how many people had become better humans for all the trials that their rescue put them through.

I’ve actually tried to give Henry to another rescue. Between his separation anxiety, his dependence, the bad habits he’s picked up from Eowyn, his complete lack of socialization, and the number of times I’ve had to repair some part of the house that he’s chewed on, I thought for a long time that I wasn’t going to be able to rehabilitate him enough to rehome him. Three months later, most of his issues are at very least under control. Believe it or not, Eo’s the problem child in my household now.

I don’t think anyone who has rescued a dog should be shamed into keeping it or should be forced to deal with a burden that they’re unwilling to bear. I would urge, though, that anyone who’s considering it look within themselves to find enough patience to ask for assistance from the rescue before they simply give up.

Of course, there may be some disappointment from the rescue in seeing a match not work out, but there won’t be anyone yelling at you or blaming you. There’s no shame in finding that you can’t take someone into your home to live with you. People who work closely with animals in a rescue environment are usually happier that you admitted to your limits and did the responsible thing (by calling them) than anything else.

This is the dumbest excuse for a blog posting in the world. I was really happy to see Eo scratching her neck today using the leg that we did the FHO for her Hip Dysplasia on. Makes me feel like all of the walking and other stuff that we’ve been doing for months on end may not be a waste after all, even though that leg still looks atrophied and she still favors the other!

You know, I don’t know if I’ve seen this in any of the books I’ve read recently, but I’ve been experimenting with lots of LITTLE training sessions. Eowyn needs work on her food aggression, reactivity, and resource guarding. Henry needs work on his anxiety and is, unfortunately, picking up Eowyn’s reactivity. Every book I’ve managed to beg, borrow, or steal on the subject stresses over and over not to make training sessions longer than 10 minutes and not to allow the dog to get bored… but they dont mention how much time should be between sessions.

I’m mowing the lawn right now. Eo’s in the backyard, and every time she doesn’t react to a dog or bicycle going by she gets a treat. Henry’s inside while I mow in his crate, and every 5-10 minutes I’ll come in and give him a treat. Before I went outside, Eo and I did a ‘attentiveness’ clicker training session in front of the big front picture window.

It’s kind of like my day to day need to get back into shape. Instead of joining a gym, I started walking miles and miles with the dogs every night. Every now and then at work when I get bored or frustrated I’ll stop and go up and down a few flights of stairs, or I’ll drop and give myself 20 pushups. Much better to integrate the physical and emotional training into life than it is to make a special time with other artificial constraints.

Henry’s at the vet right now. He was so excited to get up and go somewhere this morning, even though he didn’t get dinner last night or breakfast this morning. I was amazed when he only weighed in at 51.5 lbs — he was ALL ribs at 43 lbs when I got him. I had expected him to weigh in closer to 60 lbs with his fully developed shoulders and thighs and nice trim waist without his ribs or spine showing…

In my original review of the Everlasting Treat Ball, I pointed out that a large, smart dog could get the treats out by chewing the long way on the ball itself and would then very rapidly consume the treat.

At ~ 60 lbs, Henry is a “large” dog (although he’s at least fifteen pounds short of Eowyn), but (bless his heart) he wouldn’t qualify in anyone’s book as “smart.” The Large Everlasting Treat Ball (with both “ends” filled with Chicken refills) occupied his exclusive attention for three entire days with him cooped up in his crate. In fact, it’s one of the few things (besides a beef bone, which I won’t leave him alone with because he’ll eat the entire thing) that has kept him somewhat happy in the crate by himself.

I’m getting really good fixing where Henry has chewed up a door or windowsill.

I think I’ve arrived at an indoor solution for Henry and Eo that manages both of their issues.

Eo is fine in the house, kennel or yard… but doesn’t deal well with her frustration when another dog / cat / squirrel runs by and she can’t give chase. In that case, she barks, runs, and destroys things. The barking is bad for the neighbors, the running is bad for her hips, and the destroying things is bad for keeping the peace with my roommate. The kennel is the ideal place for her because of her hips and because from the kennel she can’t see passing dogs / cats / mooses / squirrels, and the white noise from the A/C and HEPA filter keeps her from hearing them.

Henry is fine in the kennel as long as Eo or I are in the room with him. If he can’t see her (or if she’s asleep or hidden in her own kennel in the closet) then he’ll panic and try to escape because of his separation anxiety. When he escapes from the kennel by any means necessary, and finds that I’ve gone out the front door (he’s a GREAT scent tracking dog) and he can’t follow me, he’ll eat at the front door. Also not good for my roommate relations. When he’s outside with her, I think Eowyn plays a little too rough with him, and he’s somewhat afraid of her. And when he’s left alone in the house, he’ll bark the same way Eo will and paw/claw at the front windows and blinds.

I think I’ve finally found a good solution. If I leave Eo up on my bed in my room, and close the door to my room behind me, they’ll stay in there. Henry will stay in his kennel, and Eo will just sleep up on the bed or play with some of her toys. She won’t eat at the door (she knows the house tastes bad… and she’ll make me mad), she won’t eat at my bedding, and she will keep Henry from freaking out. My room can kind of be a big kennel for her, with a little one inside for Henry. Which is what I was thinking about building in my closet for the two of them, anyway.

We’ll test it out tomorrow…

What’s the biggest training mistake I ever made? Being too rough with feedback via training tools like Gentle Leader or prong collar or even just a normal leash. Eowyn and Henry and I have been working a lot with pulling during walks — or really, we’re working on the “self control, pay attention to the guy holding the leash” aspect of their behavior modification plan.

Aside: I don’t think that prong collars are bad. I walk Eowyn on one because Eowyn is what’s known as a “Reactive” dog… she has a fear/aggression response to certain stimuli. I can’t control 80 lbs of Ridgeback when she sees something that she reacts to. The key is to not over-use it! If it’s over-used, or too tight, or it’s used too strongly, then it turns into a torture device and it’s bad. Note also that I’m not a professional trainer or behaviorist — I’m simply a hobbyist and one of the reasons my dogs NEED a behavior modification plan is that I’ve made a lot of mistakes with them!

To keep the kids from pulling, we’ve started to do something that I call “dances with dogs”. It looks REALLY weird when you see someone doing it, and it takes a lot of patience for you as a handler, but in my completely unprofessional opinion is kind of a fun way to turn your every day walk into a training session.

The basic technique is to walk forward as if you’re taking off at a normally paced walk. You should NOT use a retractable leash for this purpose — I use a leash with a knot tied at the three foot mark. When you stop, your dog should stop with you. If they don’t, they get a ‘jerk’ as they hit the end of the leash. If you’re using a prong or pinch collar, they activate it. If you’re using a haltie, they get jerked around to face you. If you’re using a normal collar, they just get uncomfortable pressure on the front of their neck as a correction.

The next step is to walk backwards until your dog comes back to join you. Once they’re walking with you again, you can proceed forward again. Repeat as necessary — the goal is to have your dog follow YOUR movements, not to rush ahead or lag behind you. Try to work to the point where they’re looking at you. If your dog takes off after a car, bicycle, ball, cat, etc. — stop, walk backwards (or away from what they’re looking at), and don’t go forward again until your dog is paying attention to YOU.

You don’t need to issue any verbal correction at all… just teach them that you will go with them to where they want to go, or you will continue walking on your own path, and THEY need to stay with you.

With Henry, it was easy to figure out how to correct him. He “got the clue” and picked up leash manners easily. With Eowyn, it was a daily struggle. She has always walked right at the edge of the limit and ended up getting a LOT of corrections… to the point of overuse. After some experimentation, I figured out that she’d make the connection between me stopping and the correction if I let her hit the correction more gently. Instead of delivering a ‘jerk’ with the prong collar, after I’ve stopped I let my arm go out towards her with the tension increasing sloooowly until she finally hits the end and stops. It was like watching a lightbulb go on when she finally realized that the pressure increasing meant I was stopping… and she could avoid the correction if she stopped faster! When I praised her for stopping faster and looking at me, she realized that she could avoid correction at all if she just watched me!

Pretty soon after figuring out that she’d make the connection if I was more gentle, I could walk forward a step, and stop, and she’d keep her head pointed at me no matter where I was walking. I could step forward, and back, and foward, and to the side, and forward … and she and Henry would follow me every step of the way!

Now, we start out all of our walks like that. I rarely have to correct them — no more pulling on the leash unless they see another dog or they see a kid on a bike. Those are Eo’s two bugaboos … and we’re working on them with a different strategy.

This will be Henry a week from tomorrow. And no, they don’t grow back.