Last week, I wrote a long post about the fact that my dog Otto is getting older and the idea of vaccinating him for the fifth time with the legally required rabies vaccine makes me nervous.

I mentioned in that post that I would talk about the other core vaccines (distemper and parvovirus) at a later time; that time is now!

As I said in last week’s blog post, Otto was vaccinated a lot when he was brought to the shelter from which I later adopted him. He was brought into the shelter as a stray pup on May 7, 2008. He was estimated to be from four to six months old, and, like all shelter dogs, was vaccinated upon admission. He was given a five-way vaccination (distemper, adenovirus-type 2, coronavirus, parainfluenza, and parvovirus) and a separate three-way vaccination (adenovirus-type 2, parainfluenza, and bordetella) made by a different company.

On May 14, he was given a rabies vaccine.

On May 17, he was given the five-way vaccine again. And again on May 27. And again on June 10. Yow! 

Yes, that’s a fairly heavy-handed vaccination protocol – but not out of the ordinary for a puppy or young dog brought into a crowded open-admission shelter, particularly one that takes in dogs and puppies who actually have parvovirus (and, much less commonly, thank goodness, distemper). 

Why would they vaccinate him so many times? Mostly, because of his age; adult dogs are likely to receive one, or at most, two multi-disease vaccinations. Puppies and young dogs of an uncertain age are given more. Blame it on their moms! (A little joke, there.)

Maternal Antibody Interference in Young Puppies

I’ve explained maternal interference in past Whole Dog Journal articles. The shortest explanation: If a mother dog has been vaccinated (or was previously infected with and recovered from) a disease such as parvo or distemper, she will have antibodies to those diseases circulating in her bloodstream. When she has puppies, the antibodies find their way into her colostrum, the so-called “first milk” (which is not really milk) that her puppies will drink when they nurse for the first couple of days. Her antibodies will circulate in the puppies’ blood, protecting the pups from those diseases for a number of weeks.

How many weeks? It varies! The maternal antibody protection (also sometimes referred to as “passive immunity”) will depend on the mother’s antibody levels, the amount of colostrum she was able to produce, the amount of colostrum that any given puppy received, and the puppy’s own health and vitality. If the puppy is exposed to disease when the mother’s antibodies are still circulating in his body, the antibodies will recognize the disease antigen and neutralize it. Zap! Pow! Thanks, Mom!

But if the puppy is given a vaccine in the same time range, while the mother’s antibodies are still circulating, Zap! Pow! The mother’s antibodies in the puppy’s blood recognize the disease antigen in the vaccine – even if it’s a modified or “killed” antigen – and neutralize it, too. It’s as if the puppy was never vaccinated. As long as his mom’s antibodies are in circulation, his body won’t have a chance to respond by mounting his own immune response to the disease antigen in the vaccine.

But at some point, the mother’s love fades – er, I mean, the maternal antibodies “fade.” That’s the scientific phrase for slowly disappear, and when the maternal antibodies disappear, the puppy is vulnerable to disease – but his own immune system will be ready to respond to disease antigen by producing protective antibodies of his own. That exact moment is when we most want to give him a dose of disease antigen that had been designed to make the puppy’s body respond by making protective antibodies to that disease without actually having the ability to cause the disease – in other words, a vaccine.

Vaccines contain disease antigens that have been either weakened, killed, or modified in some way so it can’t actually reproduce and make the dog ill, but still resembles the disease antigen enough to inspire the dog to create antibodies that will recognize and neutralize any living, virulent disease antigen it encounters later in life. 

The problem is, there isn’t any practical, cost-effective way to determine exactly when the mother’s antibodies had faded enough to leave the puppy vulnerable / ready to vaccinate; it can happen any time between five and 18 weeks!

The conventional answer to the problem has been to vaccinate the puppy every couple or few weeks in an effort to protect him as soon as possible after the maternal antibodies fade and before he might encounter real disease antigens. In a shelter environment, encountering real disease antigens is likely, so puppies are vaccinated way more frequently than we would suggest for a puppy who is safely sequestered at home.

Vaccine Titer Tests for Proving A Dog’s Immunity

So that’s why Otto was vaccinated four times for “core” diseases (parvo and distemper) at the shelter before I adopted him on June 16, 2008. He was young enough that they thought it was possible that he might still have circulating maternal antibodies.

In the past 10 years, though, he has not been vaccinated for those diseases… Not one “booster.”

(Is this a good time to mention that there is no such thing as a “booster”? When your dog – not mine! – is given a vaccine “booster,” he’s receiving the same vaccine in the same dosage that he was given the first or any other time.)

But I know that he’s protected from the diseases for which he was so generously vaccinated for disease, because in early 2010, I had a “vaccine titer test” for those diseases run, and the results were positive.

In a vaccine titer test, a lab tests a dog’s blood for circulating antibodies to the diseases of interest. In dogs, we are mostly interested in the three most deadly contagious diseases: parvovirus, distemper, and rabies.

When an adult dog (or a puppy whose mother’s immunity has faded) is vaccinated, his body should mount an immune response to the weakened, killed, or modified disease antigen, and begin producing specific antibodies to those diseases. A vaccine titer test looks for and quantifies the antibodies. When this technology was newer, there was a lot of research and inquiry about what levels of these disease antibodies should be considered “protective” and different immunology experts suggested different numbers. Today, any positive number is considered protective, because it demonstrates that the dog’s body recognized the disease antigen in question, and produced antibodies to the specific disease in response. The fact that the antibodies for a particular disease are present in any amount in the dog’s body means that his immune system will know what to do if it encounters that specific disease again.

Sometimes, over time, the level of these antibodies in the dog’s blood might get lower – or drop altogether to zero. As long as a previous test showed that the antibodies were there in the past, the dog is still very likely protected, thanks to his immune memory cells, whose job it is to just “remember” what to do in case of a new exposure to disease antigen: yell out to the immune system, “Quick! Get those antibodies back into production, STAT!”

Every veterinarian should know all this. Every veterinary assistant and registered veterinary technician should, too. But convincing them that your dog’s past positive vaccine titer test results mean he is still protected against disease is a long, hard battle in some cases.

When you do come across an educated vet or technician who logs your dog’s past positive vaccine titer test results into his chart with a look of recognition and understanding, it’s absolutely sublime. It happened to me once J

In most cases, when they are asking about your dog’s vaccination history, and you give them vaccine titer test results, they will look at you like you are insane, or stupid, or “one of those clients,” or all three.

In some cases, you might get a dubious look from a technician, and then a frankly hostile veterinarian who dives right into battle. “Have you ever seen a dog who is dying of distemper?” a veterinarian once asked me, by way of introduction. “I have, and it’s not pretty. I don’t know why you’d even mess around with something like this,” she told me. When I told the veterinarian that Otto had been well vaccinated in his first year, and that I had current, positive vaccine titer test results, she spent a good five minutes lecturing me about the fact that that scientists don’t even know antibody level should be considered protective, and that cell-mediated immunity (an immune response that does not involve antibodies) is poorly understood and not a sure thing. (Yeah, that was my last visit to that clinic. We were there, by the way, for help investigating Otto’s chronic springtime cough, not for an argument about vaccines!)

Given the resistance mounted by a veterinarian who clearly did know things about vaccines and immunology when faced with current, positive vaccine titer test results, I can’t even imagine arguing with a veterinarian about a years-old positive vaccine titer test result, either with or without a current negative vaccine titer test result. That’s one of the reasons I have paid for a vaccine titer test six times so far, and will do so again. Otto has showed positive results for antibodies to parvo and distemper in 2010, 2011, 2012, 2014, 2015, and 2017 – despite not being vaccinated for these diseases since 2008. Today, the weight of this evidence has sufficed with Otto’s current veterinarians (though I still get “overdue” vaccination reminder cards from both the current practice where these veterinarians work and from the last clinic I stopped going to).

Again: It’s really not necessary to pay for a vaccine titer test to prove your dog’s level of protection, but it helps the educated people who are accustomed to asking about your dog’s vaccination history (trainers, groomers, boarding facility owners) feel better about your dog’s “overdue” vaccination status.

Last point: Just because I don’t want my dog OVERVACCINATED doesn’t mean I am anti-vaccination – far from it. I am grateful ­- that’s actually too weak of a word – for vaccination technology. I haveseen a dog dying of distemper, my own puppy, when I was a young child in the late 1960s and distemper vaccination was not yet a standard of practice. And I have cleaned up vomit and bloody diarrhea from shelter puppies dying of parvovirus, and held them as they were euthanized. Both events were traumatizing, knowing that a simple vaccine could have saved them. But that doesn’t have anything to do with blindly vaccinating dogs who are already protected from disease, just so someone can check off a box.

I adopted Otto on June 16, 2008. He was brought into the shelter as a stray dog on May 7, 2008. He was estimated to be about six months old, and was vaccinated that day with a five-way vaccination (distemper, adenovirus-type 2, coronavirus, parainfluenza, and parvovirus) and a separate three-way vaccination (adenovirus-type 2, parainfluenza, and bordetella) made by a different company.

On May 14, 2008, he was given a rabies vaccine.

Otto was vaccinated several more times with the five-way vaccines before I adopted him, but I’m not going to talk about those vaccines right now; I want to focus on the rabies vaccine – the only vaccine that dog owners are legally required to give their dogs in most states. Rabies vaccination earned this “special” legal status due to the historical threat that rabies poses to humans; as recently as my childhood in the 1960s, domestic dogs and cats were still common vectors for spreading this deadly disease to humans. Thanks to vaccination laws, this is no longer the case. Today, the most common vectors for rabies are bats, raccoons, and skunks.

Nevertheless, there are laws that require dogs to be vaccinated against rabies in all of the United States. All of the states save three (Kansas, Minnesota, and Ohio) require dogs to be vaccinated against rabies at least every three years; in those three states that lack state laws that require rabies vaccination for dogs, there are city and county laws that require it. (Curious about your state? All of the states’ statutes regarding rabies vaccinations are collected in this terrific website.)

In California, where I live, dogs are required to have their first rabies vaccination at the age of four months, their second no more than a year later, and additional rabies vaccinations every three years after that.

So far, I have complied with my state laws regarding rabies vaccination. Otto was vaccinated for rabies again on April 2, 2009, and again on March 20, 2012.

His most recent rabies vaccination was on October 28, 2015. (Note that we were out of compliance with state law from March 21, 2015 through October 28, 2015.) So he is “due” for a rabies vaccination by October 28 of this year.

Why Should I Dread Another Rabies Vaccine for My Dog?

All vaccinations pose some risk, which must be weighed against their benefit. Since rabies is a fatal disease, is present in the United States, and carried by wild animals (bats, raccoons, and skunks are the most common vectors), and since we live in an area where all three of those vectors are present, I believe that immunization against rabies is a terrific idea. That said, it’s been demonstrated that dogs can be safely immunized against the disease with fewer vaccinations – and that the rabies vaccine can present serious adverse side effects in dogs.

It’s anecdotal, but in my own experience, senior dogs are more likely to suffer adverse effects from rabies vaccinations. My last senior dog, Rupert, had suffered from environmental and dietary allergies his whole life. In his later years, these were fairly well under control, with assiduous management of his diet. But he did have a massive allergy flare-up within a month of his last rabies shot, and getting the allergies under control again took a while. And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard friends and acquaintances say, “My senior dog was perfectly healthy until not long after his last rabies shot; he just sort of fell apart after that!” Maybe these were all coincidental; after all, statistically, senior dogs are at higher risk of all health problems. But the risk of these adverse effects is unwarranted in dogs who have already been immunized against the disease!

The Rabies Challenge Fund has been working for a decade to extend the legally required interval for rabies vaccinations to five and then seven years, in an effort to reduce the number of unnecessary vaccinations our dogs would be required to have over their lifetimes. (Note: If you are looking for a great charity to support, consider a donation to this non-profit; their work, which has been funded to date largely by breed clubs and individual dog owners, will benefit countless millions of dogs.)

On January 25, 2018, the Rabies Challenge Fund announced, “Results to date of the Rabies Challenge Fund research study showed protection from live rabies virus challenge five years after the dogs received two doses of rabies virus vaccine. Other data are still being collected and analyzed for the 6.5 and 7-year post-vaccination periods.” In other words, the Fund’s studies are proving what had been hypothesized: the rabies vaccines work for longer than their makers were willing to prove they work, so dogs don’t need to be given as many vaccines over their lifetimes in order to be protected against contracting the disease and/or infecting others.

It will take some time, however, for these promising results to be used to change state laws, to extend those vaccination requirements.

Avoiding Rabies Vaccine Legal Requirements

Currently, there is only one way to get a legal exemption from vaccinating your dog: to have a veterinarian help you apply for an exemption from your state or local animal control authorities. Each state has a different process (again, see the terrific resource, RabiesAware.org); in California, a veterinarian must submit an annual request for an exemption, and be able to verify and document that a rabies vaccination would endanger your dog’s life.

I know people who, unable to convince a veterinarian of the potential risk of a fifth, sixth, or even seventh rabies vaccination to their senior dogs have, instead, reported their dogs to their local animal control agencies as “deceased.”

Given Otto’s high-visibility job (modeling for both WDJ and its Instagram page), I’m not sure I could pull that one off. But I have until October 28 to figure out an alternative. (Although, because my city’s animal control department won’t issue Otto another license until his legal rabies vaccine period is longer than the licensing period, he is currently unlicensed. If he gets picked up as a stray or bites someone before all this is resolved, the fines will be much higher than they would be if he were currently licensed. Not that either of those things are going to happen, but still…)

I don’t want to sound like I’m being frivolous about a disease that can kill people. But again, the possibility that my four-times vaccinated dog could possibly get or transmit the virus is virtually zero – and the possibility that the vaccine could adversely affect him is far higher. I think four vaccines is sufficient, and I’m looking for a way to stay within the bounds of the law while avoiding any more vaccines.

Are you concerned about administering the rabies vaccine to your senior dog? Have you pursued a way to avoid this? Spill it in the comments, below!

In the April issue of WDJ, I wrote an editorial about an exchange I had with a trainer friend regarding the word “biddable,” which a breeder had used in conversation with her about dogs from the breeder’s kennel. Both my trainer friend and I were not used to hearing that word used to describe dogs, but apparently, we are in the minority.

I received a number of very thoughtful responses to the editorial, and have learned something from each. Because they would take up a lot of space in the magazine itself if I ran them as “letters to the editor,” I’m going to post a few of them here, with the writers’ permission.

You can read the editorial here.

The following letter is from Jeff Swackhamer, owner of Orion Labradors in Frankfort, Indiana:

Your Editor’s Note in the April edition of WDJ was very thought-provoking. It was the first time I’d ever heard of anyone who considered the term biddable an undesirable trait in a dog! What’s the difference between the meaning of the words biddable and trainable? I have to wonder if people from different niches of the dog world use a different vocabulary to convey similar concepts or do we have distinctly different points of view? I also wonder if it’s possible to accurately describe canine behavioral attributes in a single word or even in a simple phrase.

Before I address these questions, I’d like to briefly share some personal background information to help you understand my perspective. I purchased my first Labrador retriever in 1986 and started my breeding program in 1994. I’m currently working with the fifth generation descending from my original foundation stock. I raise field-bred Labs, but I strive to produce dogs that conform to the breed standard as written. My goal is to produce healthy, intelligent, physically sound, mentally stable, competent working retrievers who exhibit the traits that define the breed.

Breeding and training hunting retrievers can present many challenges. Nearly every popular retriever-training program comes from field trial trainers. They rely on e-collars and aversive training methods to teach the skills required for a retriever to perform at a competitive level. Aversive training techniques are customary in retriever training because of the high levels of distractions and the necessity of controlling a dog who may be working a long distance away from his handler. For example, a well-trained retriever must sit quietly and patiently until he is sent to retrieve a bird, even while hunters are shooting and birds are falling in front of him. Hunting retrievers also perform blind retrieves to recover birds they didn’t see fall. This requires the dog to run in the direction indicated by his handler, sit when the whistle is blown, and follow hand casts that direct him to the unseen bird which may be several hundred yards away. Labradors bred for field trial competition tend to be intelligent dogs who are highly driven to retrieve and capable of working through the demands of intense training. Dogs from this gene pool are often “too much dog” for the average person who just wants a calm capable hunting companion and pet.

I don’t follow the widespread practice of training retrievers with an e-collar. I prefer to use positive reinforcement to ingrain desirable behaviors in my puppies and young dogs while they’re learning the ways of the world. One my goals as a breeder is to produce dogs whose natural desire and determination to retrieve is tempered by a genetic predisposition to be cooperative and compliant. Some people may describe such a dog as biddable. This trait, however you describe it, helps to minimize the need for force in training a hunting retriever. With all due respect to Dictionary.com, I don’t think a biddable dog is necessarily “meek” or “submissive”. My dogs are intelligent, bold, outgoing, very driven to find and retrieve birds, yet willing to be team players.

Breeders probably see the world through a different prism than trainers. When an issue arises with a dog’s behavior, trainers try to resolve the issue through training, while a breeder considers how they can breed a dog who doesn’t demonstrate the undesirable behavior. As a breeder I strive to produce dogs who are easy to live with and who take naturally to their work with minimal training, while trainers tend to thrive on training challenges. Approximately half of my puppies go to non-hunting homes. Their owners usually aren’t experienced dog trainers. A smart, attentive, naturally compliant dog is much more likely to satisfy their needs with minimal stress for the owners or the dog. 

It’s understandable that people from different wavelengths of the canine spectrum have different goals and use a different vocabulary. Nancy listed a few synonyms for the word biddable in her column to help define the meaning of the word, but I wonder if the dictionary definition translates well to the meaning the breeder intended to convey to her trainer friend. I think it might be useful to consider the antonyms of biddable to help us understand its meaning. According to the Merriam-Webster Thesaurus, when a breeder says their dogs are biddable, instead of implying they are meek or submissive, they may be saying their dogs are NOT any of the following things:

Antonyms of biddable: balky, contrary, defiant, disobedient, froward, incompliant, insubordinate, intractable, noncompliant, obstreperous, rebel, rebellious, recalcitrant, refractory, restive, unamenable, ungovernable, unruly, untoward, wayward, or willful.

Near Antonyms of biddable: insurgent, mutinous, dogged, hardheaded, headstrong, mulish, obdurate, obstinate, peevish, pigheaded, self-willed, stubborn, unyielding, uncontrollable, unmanageable, wild, perverse, resistant, disorderly, errant, misbehaving, mischievous, naughty, ill-bred, undisciplined, dissident, nonconformist, disrespectful, ill-mannered, impolite, impudent, insolent, or rude.

Since Nancy and her friend agree that biddable is absolutely not a trait they look for in a dog, I challenge them to select the behavioral characteristics they value from these antonyms, which describe personality traits which are the antithesis of biddable. Are these traits useful to describe their ideal dog? It’s not a very enticing list of attributes to choose from, is it? Maybe a dog who is the opposite of biddable isn’t exactly what they want either!

I’d like to close with an interesting twist. While I was looking up the word biddable in Merriam-Webster’s Thesaurus I found a much longer list of synonyms than Nancy listed in her editorial. As I read down the list of words related to biddable I had to smile when I discovered the word trainable. Maybe Nancy’s friend and the breeder weren’t as far apart as she thought! It’s just a matter of semantics! 

The following letter is from WDJ subscriber Rebecca Barkhorn:

I love your Editor’s Note and read it in every WDJ that arrives. However, I have to say something about your latest, Bidding War.

I have been involved in dog sports and dog training, most especially agility, for the last 20 years. The breeder DID NOT mean the dictionary definition and I would imagine that you and your friend would have realized that. The word biddable is used all the time to describe a dog who wants to work with his partner/trainer. There is no connotation of passivity, docility, submissiveness, etc.

I have a dynamite dog for agility because he is fast, smart, loves the excitement, and loves to work with me. And the only thing dog people mean by biddable is the enjoyment of working with the human partner. While I can’t speak for everyone, however everyone that I know wants a dog who is smart, creative, ingenious, curious, interested in what is around him or her. I am a dog trainer who of course is interested in dog behavior because that is what allows me to understand the best ways to train or communicate. So, please don’t think that dog people who use the word biddable mean the dictionary definition!

Here is one more letter on the topic, from WDJ scubscriber Sallie Ehrlich:

The definition of the word biddable used in the April 2018 WDJ did not do you any favors. Maybe a better definition, and a usage popular historically, is “willing to do what is asked” (this comes from an older version of Webster’s than that available online). And in this sense it takes teaching and training to the next level.

For example: You taught Otto what the word “come” means. Then you reinforced his learning of the phrase by pairing it with treats in the woods for what you hoped would become a solid long-distance recall. This second step is training, simple mass repetition/reward. But at some point Otto gets to decide if he wants to return to you for a treat or to continue on chasing that squirrel …his decision to return to your side indicates his level of biddability. He chooses to comply, and does so happily and with elan. That is a good definition of the word biddable. Your friend’s comment that she wanted a dog that was “smart, motivated to work with her, one who values rewards that she could deliver, and willing to experiment….” exactly defines the term biddable.

We chose a Brittany for many, many reasons, first their huntability and second their “sweet and biddable temperament,” something the breed is known for. Then other things like size, coat and grooming needs, health list, trainability, energy levels etc., came into play. But the most important thing to us was their temperament. Why? We’d had dogs who didn’t get along… with people, dogs, cats, shadows, whatever. We’d had a dog that bit. We’d had a dog that would not let us touch him. We needed a hunting companion that would hunt anything and let me dig junk out of her coat and feet, that would get along with our cats and parrots and company and friends and other dogs, that would fit in our condensed city living spaces and so on. I have talked to a lot of Brittany owners and trust me, not a single one would ever describe their dog as docile, acquiescent, complaisant, dutiful, or submissive. Quite the contrary. Britts are one of the liveliest breeds, brilliant intuitive hunters and have happy goofy senses of humor which they display virtually non-stop. These dogs are smart, highly interactive, great team players… and very charmingly biddable.

To answer your posted question (what traits do WDJ readers look for in a dog?): When we selected our puppy we had three to choose from. One never even acknowledged we were in the room so that narrowed it down to two. Both remaining girls were lively, interested, engaging, curious, spunky… all the things you look for. So I played a lot with each and repeatedly gently turned them on their backs in my lap and played with their feet and tummies. Over time, one started to nip and grumble when she got turned over, the other eventually fell asleep while I played with her feet. The second pup is the one we brought home. We chose a breed we felt suited to our needs and situation. We chose a breeder with strong hunt lines for our hunting requirements. We picked our puppy so I could dig burrs and stickers out of her paws while we hunt.

One final word (and thank you if you read this far)… not everyone wants a dog that can out-think them on a daily basis. Personally, I enjoy the challenge of trying to have the last word with my charming and independent little rascal. But I also really enjoy when she realizes that the rat is really no longer in the avocado tree, and Mama is tired, and that bed-time squeaky toy sure sounds like fun… and RUNS into the house at night when I whistle. (Did I mention Brittanys are slow to mature? It has taken 3.5 patient years to get that recall.)

Thanks for your publication. I read every word every month.

My thanks to everyone who wrote to me on this topic. I hope everyone who reads them enjoys them and learns as much from them as I did.

Now that we live in a house with two glorious acres of grassy field and a nice front lawn, Woody is finally getting all the fetching time he wants. He intercepts my husband and me every time we walk outside, with a ball or flying disc, asking us to please throw it, and the farther the better. We’re happy to oblige; it’s glorious (at least for a dog lover like me, though my husband seems to like it too) to watch this strong, athletic, healthy dog run hard, scanning the sky for his fetch object, and then launch himself into the air to catch it. Woody’s leaps are not always perfectly timed, but they are always athletic, and he lands gracefully every time, coming back without fail to ask again for just one more throw, please.

We always try to throw his fetch item du jour in a location where there are no obstacles for Woody to crash into or trip over in his single-minded pursuit. For example, there is a segment of fence that used to separate the property around the house from a pasture. It has several openings now; there hasn’t been an animal in the field for some time, and the fence was removed in places. But there is an opening right near the toolshed, so when we are going into or out of the toolshed and are greeted by Woody with his fetch item, we often lead him through the gap in the fence before throwing the thing out into the field – otherwise, he just may whirl around and run RIGHT into the fence or fence post in his haste to fetch. He did it once, sickeningly – running right into the wire mesh he forgot was there. He fortunately bounced right off of it without injury, but both my husband and I shuddered to think of what would have happened if he had run into the metal fencepost. So we are getting more and more careful, as we discover all of the potentially injurious places for Woody to run at full tilt.

(By the way, where is Otto while all of this wild fetching is going on? He’s walking the property in his stately way, soaking up the sun, chewing on grasses of various lengths and textures, smelling the tree trunks for scent of squirrels, marking the fence posts where any dog any time ever has peed before him… you know, important grown-up dog stuff. He’s enjoying the property, too. He’s just not, in his words, “a mindless fetcher.” Oh, sure, he will retrieve something, once in a while, but it’s on his terms. And he’s prone to suddenly losing interest in the game, in favor of that squirrel scent. He’ll just drop the ball and wander off. “Sorry, guys, I have to go back to work. Enjoy your little game.”)

You know already what this is leading up to: a fetch-related injury. Fortunately, not a terrible one, but nevertheless worthy of a trip to the veterinary ER, given its late hour.

I got home from work and grocery shopping at about 9 pm, and was greeted joyously at the driveway gate by both dogs, Otto, with his characteristic “Oh wooooooooooo!” Wookie-like noise, and Woody, with a flying disk in his mouth. I got out of the car, greeted Otto, took the disc, threw it hard into the field, got into the car, drove it through the gates and parked it, got out of the car, greeted Otto again, threw the disc again out into the pasture, walked over and shut the driveway gates, then more Otto petting and one more throw for Woody. Grabbed the groceries, came into the house, fed both dogs, and noticed that Woody’s legs and feet were all muddy (digging while I was gone, no doubt, and fetching) while I put the groceries away and put some broccoli on the stove to steam. Both dogs finished eating, and lay on the kitchen floor, forcing me to step around them while I – WAIT. Why is there blood all over the floor? Who is bleeding? And from where??

It took only a minute to trace the blood to its source: the backs of Woody’s hind legs. In horses, we’d call this area his pasterns: between his paws and the knobby hock joints – the place where he skids when he’s sliding to a halt from a run. On one of those three throws into the field, he obviously skidded into something sharp in the ground. He had two ugly, deep cuts, one on each pastern, with mud packed into each wound. So much for dinner!

I took him outside, hosed off all of the mud, brought him back inside, and started cleaning the wounds. It took only a few minutes to conclude they were deep enough that they should be stitched or stapled closed (not to mention cleaned more deeply than I felt comfortable doing).  So off to the emergency clinic we went.

The best news: Though the technician who first examined Woody gave a worse-case estimate that would cost more than $1,000 (in case he had to be fully anesthetized in order to clean and stitch the wounds), the veterinarian was able to use just a local and dog treats to gain Woody’s cooperation and treat his wounds. She shaved the areas, irrigated and scrubbed the wounds more deeply than I was able to, used two staples to close each gash, and wrapped each leg in layers of dressing, gauze, and a wrap. She sent us home with an antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory. The total was only $331 – a bargain for care at that hour, as far as I’m concerned.

Woody’s pet insurance policy made me feel calm at the prospect of our trip, even before I knew the total, and even when I heard the technician’s worst-case estimate. I pay $55.25 a month for his policy; it has a $250 a year deductible, but reimburses me for 90 percent of each vet bill after that $250 is used up. So in that one visit, we’ve taken care of the deductible for the year. Nationwide will reimburse me for 90 percent of the $81 left over, or $72.90. That also means that the company will reimburse me for 90% of any other care he needs this year – and knowing Woody, he will need further care this year.

However, I will hope and try for no further injuries caused by fetching. I have to do more surveillance and marking of hazards in the field. And I probably ought not have him fetching at night, so I can make sure I’m not sending him racing toward a hazard I can’t see. Yet another dog-owning lesson learned. When will my education end?