This is a guest blog post that touched us deeply. Its author, Jenny Efimova, KPA CTP, is the founder and owner of Dogminded. Efimova offers private dog training in and around Boston, Massachusetts, as well as virtual training for puppies and dogs and their humans. One of her mottoes: “How we teach dogs matters as much as what we teach them.”

Yesterday I shared a few stories on my Instagram page about the false belief that showing our dogs affection and allowing them on the couch or bed may cause behavior problems, including separation anxiety. Since then I’ve received *dozens* of messages from people expressing relief and gratitude and sharing how guilty they have been made to feel for treating their dogs with basic compassion and kindness.

This is heartbreaking and I want to reiterate a few things: One, dogs are social animals who have uniquely evolved to live with and alongside us. Social contact is a *basic need*. They seek comfy places next to their humans for no other reason than that they like comfy places next to their humans.

Not allowing your dog on furniture, ignoring your dog, or rationing how you show your dog affection does not provide “structure” or help resolve behavior issues. This is magical thinking, something that we compensate with when we lack adequate education and skillset to address behavior issues with science and evidence-based interventions. And in the year 2020 it does not have a legitimate place in the world of dog training and behavior.

It’s also abject cruelty and ignorance to advise people to withhold attention, affection, and comfort from their dogs who are already suffering. Separation anxiety, for one, is a disorder not something that results from too many cuddles or access to the couch.

Blaming people for their dogs’ behavior problems they did nothing to cause is especially egregious and has to stop. People don’t deserve to carry this guilt, nor should they be made to shun their dogs and treat them in ways that are contrary to the very reasons we bring dogs into our lives.

Dog training is an unregulated industry and the information you find is not created equal. So please beware of advice from self-proclaimed experts on social media, vet your sources, and follow your instincts when something feels wrong.

I’ve been there and if you have too, you know exactly the feeling I’m talking about. It’s the sense of moving through your own discomfort because a “professional” told you so. I know we can do better than this. Our dogs deserve better.

Jenny Efimova can be reached through her business website: https://www.dogmindedboston.com/

Not that anyone asked, but my favorite tree in the whole world is the oak tree. We have dozens of species of oaks in California, and where I grew up, in the great Sacramento Valley, the Valley Oak (Quercus lobata) is the most ubiquitous and also the largest oak tree around. They live to be hundreds of years old and grow into massive, photogenic shapes. When my husband and I bought the property where we have lived for the past (almost) three years, one of the key selling points was the magnificent hundred-year-old Valley Oak that stands in front of the house, and several other smaller Valley Oaks sprinkled around the property, along with some lesser oak varieties, the Blue Oak and the Live Oak.

Here’s the down side of living with oak trees, one that I never fully appreciated until now: acorns. So. Many. Acorns. And while all the oak trees are producing them, the Valley Oak makes some of the largest ones; they exceed the size of a standard tube of lip balm. Their distinctive “caps”, too, are a hazard. When they separate from the acorn, they become a separate large, hard, marble-shaped hazard.

Acorns underfoot on the lawn. (“Ow! OW!”)

Acorns getting mowed by the mower (turning the mower into a dangerous, projectile-throwing machine).

And worst of all: Dogs chewing on and (sometimes) eating the acorns.

California kids grow up with the information that the native indigenous people in California harvested the acorns and made them a staple of their diet – and every California kid who lives near an oak tree tries to reenact this. You gather acorns, peel off the skin to expose what appears to be a big, delicious nut, and find some rocks capable of grinding the nuts into a coarse flour. The goal is to then add some water and use your hands to mix the flour and water into a dough and try to make a tortilla. At some point in the process, you dip your finger into the flour and lick it, or take a little bite of the dough, and – ACK! Blech! It’s bitter!

When California kids get a little older, they learn that acorns are full of bitter tannins, and that the native people used to leach the flour with water, sometimes many times, to remove the bitter substance and make the acorns safe to eat.

And, as vet-bill-paying adults, we learn that in addition to being bitter-tasting, these tannins can be toxic to humans, horses, and dogs. Shoot!

Tannins in acorns can be toxic to dogs

I know several people whose dogs get sort of addicted to chewing the bitter-tasting nuts and end up with an extremely upset stomach – and in severe cases, kidney failure and death. A dog who becomes inappetent after eating acorns requires immediate veterinary care. My sister had a little dog who, at least once a year, would require a vet visit after sneaking a few acorns. She liked them after it had rained a time or two in the fall, when the nuts have gotten soaked with rainwater and fermented slightly – which seemed to increase their toxicity.

Despite the wealth of nuts littering my property in the fall, neither of my dogs has been interested in picking them up or chewing them, even speculatively, and up until now, neither have any of my foster dogs. That is, until my most recent foster dog arrived. I have to keep a very close eye on Coco, who has become inexplicably drawn to chewing on the acorns, to the extent that I basically can’t have her out of my sight on my fenced, two-acre property. Wah!

Like my sister’s dog from years ago, Coco is (thankfully) uninterested in the dry ones that cover most of my property, and is mostly drawn to the ones that have been soaked by the sprinklers on my front lawn. While this is quite a lot, given the GINORMOUS Valley Oak, the pride of our property, at least it’s just those. So it’s my new evening hobby: hanging out on the front lawn in the evenings with my dogs, throwing the ball for Woody, watching Woody and Coco wrestle, watching Otto watch for feral cats and squirrels … and picking up acorns from the lawn, and dumping them in our “green waste” barrel. I probably have a few more weeks to enjoy this new hobby before the tree’s supply is done and I can relax again.

Have you ever had trouble with an acorn-eating dog? Spread the word about this danger.

Last week, I “fostered” a dog for four nights – not a big deal. He was a hound-mix, about a year old, who had been languishing in my local shelter for too long. A bit of an oversight, actually, due to the fact that the shelter has been crazily preoccupied with taking in and caring for dozens of animals who were evacuated or rescued from a month-long wildfire event. This little hound had the luck (or misfortune, depending on how you look at it) of being brought into the shelter within a day of the large evacuation necessitated by the fire’s rapid progression into our community, and he got a little lost in the shuffle of animals with more dramatic needs.

I spotted the little guy when volunteering at the shelter to help with the fire-evacuated dogs. (The ones that had been brought in as “strays” by first responders in the fire zone needed good photos taken for identification purposes, in hopes of reuniting them with owners; I also made phone calls to the owners of dogs that the shelter was holding for safe-keeping – people whose homes had burned down – to gently inquire whether they had made any progress in finding housing.) The shelter’s regular adoption program has been on hold off and on for months, first due to COVID, and now due to the formidable needs of animal fire victims.

But I had received an email from a friend of a friend of my son, asking for help in finding a family dog. And because of that specific pedigree (my son’s friend and his fiancée have adopted TWO dogs from my shelter, and I get to see the dogs’ new, wonderful lives in my Instagram feed), I said I’d help, and immediately thought this family and that little hound would be a great match – even though the family lives a good two-plus hours away. I implored them to come meet the hound as soon as possible and then met them at the shelter on a Sunday (when only the cleaning staff is present).

As I knew they would, they fell in love with him. I pressed to get the hound admitted for the next possible surgery date for neutering and took him home after his surgery, to wait for the next date his new family could come to adopt him. It was just four nights later.

But for me, it takes even less than four nights to form all sorts of opinions about how a dog should best be handled and cared for. Whenever I foster, I find myself trying to stuff all sorts of information into the adopters’ heads before they drive off with my ex-foster dog. And I kick myself, time and time again, when I think of things I meant to mention to them before they left – more than once, I’ve sent new owners emails about their new dogs before they’ve even gotten home with their new pets!

And then there are the general dog-care and dog-training tips that I wished all dog owners would know and employ. Some day, when I have a little extra time, I’m going to formalize all of them into a little booklet that I can send home with adopters. As I drove home from the shelter last Sunday, mulling over whether I had told Arlo’s new family “all the things,” I decided that, in an effort to jump-start that project, I’d at least write a blog post with a few notes about what I’d most want them to remember – and ask you for your top dog-care tips. What two or three things do you insist that your friends or puppy buyers or new adoptive families know?

My top tips for new dog owners

Here are a few of mine:

• Keep ID on the dog at all times for at least the first few weeks before you remove it, even for just a bath! And even if there is ample evidence to the contrary, pretend like your new dog may try to escape at any moment. Don’t leave doors or gates not-quite-closed. Don’t take it for granted that he will follow you from the car to the house or vice versa; use a leash whenever he’s not securely contained. Don’t leave the house with windows open; lock the yard gates so the kids can’t accidentally forget to latch them. Practice this diligence until it’s clear that your new dog knows  and is comfortable with you, knows where he lives, recognizes the sound of your car, and is well-started on a positively reinforced recall.

• Hand-feed him for the first few days. Take every opportunity to reinforce his concept of you as the most enjoyable human ever.

• That said, don’t let him do the things you don’t want him to do, from the very first day. If you don’t want him on the couch or beds, don’t let him on the couch at all. If he hops up, throw a toy or treat across the room to lure him off the couch, and then either block him from jumping up again, and either sitting on the floor or next to his dog bed with him until he relaxes there, or putting him in a crate or on a tether with a nice fresh raw meaty bone or food-stuffed Kong toy. In other words, give him an equally enjoyable option!

• Also, start teaching him to be alone in short bits from day 1. Give him a food stuffed Kong or chewy and leave him alone, crated or closed in a secure and comfortable room, for just a minute here and there. Observe how he handles this. If he notices you leave and goes back to sleep, that’s awesome. If he leaps to his feet and compulsively follows you every time you leave the room, you are going to need to work on this sooner and more formally. (See this article on why and how to prevent and deal with separation anxiety and isolation distress.)

• Take him outside to potty a lot! At least once an hour! Praise him and give him treats or petting (if he likes that) every single time he “goes” outside. And watch him constantly, actively, when he’s inside. Try not to give him a single opportunity to “make a mistake” and “go” inside. If you screw up and he does go potty in the house, take a rolled up newspaper and hit yourself over the head and say, “I must pay better attention!”

• Don’t be in a rush to take him everywhere! Let him get to know you and your family and home for at least a few days!  And don’t overwhelm him with visitors at first! As excited as you and your family may be, remember that the change is very overwhelming and stressful for your new dog. He’s trying to figure it all out. Give him a little time.

• Don’t take anything for granted. Assume he knows nothing about living with humans. Don’t leave food on the coffee table, your child’s desk, or even the kitchen counter. Put your kitchen and bathroom garbage cans out of reach. Make sure the cat or other small pets in the house are kept safely and securely separated when no one is actively supervising the dog.

• If that new owner is off to the pet supply superstore, my top tips would be: No plastic dishes! Stainless steel bowls only. Beds: As thick as possible. Treats: Don’t buy them; use tiny bits of cheese, lunch meat, roasted chicken, etc., instead. No Flexi-type leads! No store-bought rawhide or “chewies.” (There is exactly one supplier of rawhide that I trust, and I buy only one product they make – for all dogs, no matter their size.) Toys: Lots!

If you had to turn over a dog you loved to a new home, what are the bits of advice you’d most want to convey?

If only it was summer. I have been so eager for the end of the hot, dry weather that characterizes every summer in my area – but now that I’m fostering a dog who would really benefit from swimming, I’m reneging on all my wishes for rain and lower temperatures. 

Coco is the little dog I first wrote about here. She’s an estimated six months old (this has been revised upward, given better exams of her teeth, which we can now examine at will). She can’t walk or trot like a normal dog, due to an as-yet undiagnosed problem with her hind legs, which only move together like a bunny or a kangaroo. (Speaking of kangaroos, a friend who is a regular volunteer at a zoo tells me that kangaroos can’t use their hind legs individually, either; they, too, apparently can *only * hop. Huh!)

For the past two weeks, I’ve been waiting for an appointment with a veterinarian who could actually see Coco move, to get a better idea of what’s going on with her. In the meantime, I’ve been working with Coco daily, doing some physical therapy exercises I found online for dogs who are recovering from injuries or surgery (this site has great descriptions and videos; here’s another video that shows a hind leg range-of-motion exercise I’ve been doing with her).

Based on my understanding of physical therapy, I’ve been speculating that whatever the cause of Coco’s condition may be, her brain is unaccustomed to exercising the nerves that trigger a normal movement pattern, so any exercise that send signals to the brain regarding new, better (more normal) movement options would be beneficial. To that end, swimming is often considered as one of the best therapies for issues like Coco’s. It’s non-weight-bearing and completely novel, which may be enough to help initiate the brain’s signals to kick her legs in the normal way for a swimming dog.

There is a river and several large lake-like reservoirs locally where I can take Coco and my other dogs to swim – but the water is FREEZING cold. I know that seems weird, given the hot weather. But the river and the reservoirs where I can take the dogs are downstream from the Oroville Dam – the tallest earthen dam in North America. This means that the water that comes out of the bottom of that dam is coming from a very deep, cold place. The water is super cold, which is a delight in super hot weather – but not great when the ambient temperatures drop, and not great for physical therapy-type swimming (which is typically conducted in warm pools, which keep the muscles loose and relaxed).

The lake behind the dam is warmer, at least at the kind of shallow depths that dogs swim in. But it’s been accessible only for the past week or so; miles and miles of its shoreline and tens of thousands of acres around it were burning until very recently. But finally, the other day, the planets lined up and I had a day off when it was hot and I got to take the dogs swimming.

Alas, we swam enough that I could see that Coco quickly started swimming in the same way that she runs: “dog paddling” with both front legs normally, and stroking both hind legs at the same time – essentially bunny-hopping in the water, too. It wasn’t a wasted trip by any means, though; Coco had fun in the water and running (hopping) along the shore with Woody, and the extra swimming time (and a life jacket) made her that much more comfortable in the water than she had been the first time I took her swimming. At the very least, I’m hoping that when I am able to find a pool or underwater treadmill for more therapy, she’ll be more comfortable and happy in the water. If this warm weather persists, we’ll go back to the lake for more non-weight-bearing exercise. It absolutely can’t hurt. 

Until today (as I write this) Coco hadn’t been seen by a veterinarian who had seen her move; she was still frozen with fear of people and the novel situations she had been thrust into when the North Complex Fire prompted area-wide evacuations. Today was a breakthrough for several reasons: A veterinarian finally saw her move! The clinic I took her to, in order to see this specific veterinarian, is back to allowing clients to come inside the clinic again – so I was able to go inside and discuss Coco’s history with the veterinarian, in person! We waited for our appointment outside, we wore masks, we paid for the visit and scheduled another while in the exam room, among other COVID-era accommodations – but at least I could go inside with Coco! And the vet was able to touch Coco without any party experiencing any fear – Coco is now experienced enough with humans that she allowed the vet to pet and massage her body and flex her joints, and the vet was without fear that Coco might bite her in fear! I could have cried!

I was, at a minimum, hoping for a referral to a veterinary neurologist at the Veterinary Medical Teaching Hospital (VMTH) at the University of California – Davis. But the vet who examined Coco thinks that her issues are not necessarily the result of some exotic neurological condition; she thinks that it’s likely that Coco was injured as a very tiny puppy, possibly even as she was born, and that the neurological “wiring” for a normal gait might still be sparked into action through physical therapy and exercises targeted to build her hind-limb muscles. In addition to practicing conventional veterinary medicine, this veterinarian also uses complementary therapies including acupuncture and chiropractic, and she suggested that Coco could really benefit from both continued physical therapy exercises and some acupuncture and laser therapy treatments. Excellent! We made another appointment for next week.

My most dog-crazy friend, Leonora, lives about a mile away from me. She is the owner of Samson, Woody’s tiny little buddy since they were puppies. Like me, Leonora fosters for our local shelter, and she was fostering a litter of six tiny puppies who were the exact same age as the litter of nine big puppies I was fostering five years ago. We both, without consulting the other, ended up keeping a puppy from our respective foster litters. She kept the tiniest pup, Samson; I kept the largest pup, Woody. We (all four of us) attended the same “puppy kindergarten” classes (Puppy 1 and 2) and Samson and Woody often play and hang out with each other, best of buddies in spite of their 65-pound size difference.

Anyway, Leonora recently had to say goodbye to her senior dog, and no doubt because her house seems empty with just one tiny dog in it, she volunteered to have Coco stay at her house when I’ve had to pull a volunteer shift or even just go to town for errands. Having Coco spend time (and some nights) at Leonora’s house has given Coco experience with more humans and dogs, Samson someone to play with, and Woody gets a break from the constant attention he gets from Coco otherwise. (She’s sort of smitten with him, and who could blame her!) Leonora also helps with Coco’s PT exercises and she’s falling for the goofy little dog, I can tell.

That said, we’re not talking about permanent placement anywhere yet. We won’t be looking for a permanent home for Coco until we know that we’ve done everything we can to get her to move more comfortably and confidently through the world, so those wonky back legs have the best chance of remaining problem-free and arthritis-free as long as possible.