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Here is a high protein, low-and-balanced fat recipe for full time feeding, developed with Whole Dog Journal’s Mary Straus. We developed this recipe for adult dogs needing a low-fat diet, including dogs with pancreas issues. Approximately 43% of the calories come from protein, 22% from fat, and 35% from carbohydrate.
This high protein, low fat recipe may also be ideal for overweight and inactive dogs. Many recent studies have shown that high protein diets help dogs lose weight. This recipe is not for puppies, pregnant bitches, or lactating bitches because they are too low in fat and minerals to meet their needs.
Chicken (no bones) recipe:
– 14 oz. chicken thighs, skin and separable fat removed
– 1 lb sweet potato, baked in skin
– ½ lb broccoli stalks
– 2 oz chicken liver
– 1 oz chicken heart (or use 3 oz of liver and no heart)
– 1 level tsp eggshell powder
– ¼ tsp iodized salt
– 40 to 120 IUs (2 to 6 drops) vitamin E
This recipe yields 1,007 kcal (24 kcal/oz) and has 22 grams of fat per 1,000 kcal. The overall (including short and long chain) omega-6:-3 ratio is 7:1.
The amount to feed will vary considerably depending upon your dog’s activity level and metabolism.
Allow me to take a moment to thank anyone and everyone who participates in or supports the rescue movement. I had an experience recently with some rescue folks whose efforts on behalf of a dog I am trying to help brought me quite literally to tears. I’m amazed at their commitment on behalf of a dog they haven’t even met yet, on the word of some stranger who says it’s a nice dog who deserves some extra help. It’s astonishing.
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Though I’ve long been aware of the rescue movement, I’ve had a mostly arms-length relationship with rescue people; all of my volunteer efforts over the past decade have been with shelters. Of course, shelters and rescues sometimes work together, and I’ve reached out to breed rescues a few times when there was a purebred in the shelter where I volunteer who needed some extraordinary help. For example, some Shar-pei people helped us place some abused Shar-pei who needed special care. And a local Dachshund rescue group once took on a heartworm-positive weiner dog that we volunteers had all fallen in love with, despite the fact that he was also a little bitey.
I’ve also had some ugly experiences with bad rescue people – faux rescuers, actually. Most notable was the woman who ran a small dog “rescue” but whose dogs, my shelter’s officers kept hearing, were in terrible shape. Our officers had contacted her numerous times, but she was hostile and basically told them that if they ever wanted to see her “rescue facility,” they were going to need a warrant. It took far too long to get a judge to sign a search warrant, but when the officers finally succeeded, they were aghast at what they found: over 100 emaciated small dogs, almost all of them in very bad shape with internal and external parasites and infections. Many of them had wounds from fighting (for food). There were pregnant females and others with nursing litters; a couple of the litters were sick with what proved to be distemper. (As a result of the ubiquitous plea bargain, the “rescue” owner eventually paid a fine and is on probation – not harsh enough punishment for the suffering she caused.)
Then there are people like this: There is a big, handsome hound in our shelter right now. Buddy is young and untrained and full of energy. He needs exercise and training, and I and some of the other volunteers have been working with him – but mostly he needs to get out of the shelter. He’s been there for two months already, and he’s so frustrated with his confinement that he goes bananas when people walk by to look at him, jumping, baying, and generally looking like a nutcase. If a volunteer or staff member is nearby, we always rush over to show anyone who might be interested that he’s really a good boy, he can sit quietly if you ask him to (and have some treats handy). We haven’t been able to convince anyone yet.
Desperate, I recently put out the word to some hound rescue people. And within a few days, I received word that several people are coordinating transportation for Buddy to an experienced hound foster home some hundreds of miles away. I received a text from one woman I spoke to telling me not to worry, “This boy will be saved by someone in our rescue.” I could not be more grateful, more happy for Buddy, or more amazed at the kindness and generosity of rescue people. Thank you.
One of my worst dog-owner nightmares recently came true. Or I should say, almost came true. A raccoon attacked my dog, injuring her, but I was able to save her life by fighting off the raccoon myself! As bad as that experience was, I never imagined the problems I would have to deal with that have emerged since our initial suburban wildlife encounter.
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My dog Ella is a Norwich Terrier, weighing just 11 pounds. I worried when I got a smaller dog that she would be more vulnerable to attack, whether from another dog, or from one of the critters (raccoons, opossums) that frequent my area because I live near a creek. While I rarely spot them, I know they’re around.
We went out to the backyard around 10:00 Saturday night, so Ella could go pee one last time before bed. I usually wait at the door, but this time, for whatever reason, I walked out with her. We were both on the grass when Ella started barking at something I couldn’t see on the fence. I figured it was one of the neighborhood cats – until it suddenly charged down the fence and in a flash attacked Ella, despite my being no more than two feet away and screaming at it to try to drive it away.
Ella tried to run for the house (she’s not a fighter, despite being a terrier) and they were on the deck in an instant, with the raccoon trying to attack her underside. I knew that if I didn’t do something, the raccoon, which was two or three times her size, would almost certainly kill my dog. My first thought was to pick Ella up, but I was afraid the raccoon would just keep attacking, and would then get me as well. In desperation, I went for the raccoon instead.
I grabbed its tail and pulled back and up, lifting it off the ground. It had hold of Ella’s head at that point and didn’t want to let go, but I kept pulling and it finally released her, or she managed to pull away. She was able to run into the house, while I spun around twice in a circle, swinging the raccoon by its tail. I launched it as far from me as I could (maybe six feet). When it landed, it turned right back toward me, despite the fact that I was screaming at it like a banshee. After what seemed like a long moment, it finally turned away and left.
I hurried into the house to find Ella with blood on her face and favoring one of her front legs. I drove her to the emergency vet immediately, and it turned out she had several puncture wounds on her muzzle and front legs, but nothing worse. They sedated her, cleaned the wounds, gave her pain medication and antibiotics, and sent us home with more of the same.
She was very sore Sunday morning, hardly able to put weight on her right front leg, and her wounds had already stopped draining, which was not good; the vet wanted them to stay open so that any infection would drain out rather than create an abscess, in which case a drain would have to be put in. I applied warm compresses for 10 minutes four times that day, following the vet’s instructions. By evening, Ella was walking more normally, and obviously feeling much better.
Emotional Wounds Ella’s physical improvement was fast; her wounds were nearly completely healed within a few days. It will take much longer, however, for the emotional scars to heal. She is now afraid to go into the backyard. Worse, she is showing signs of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), including hypervigilance (constantly on the alert) and hyperreactivity (overreaction to movement and sounds coming from the direction of the backyard).
On Tuesday night, three days after the attack, Ella also began showing signs of anxiety disorder, including panting, pacing, trembling, trying to hide, and being unable to relax. This started in the evening while we were in my bedroom, which looks out into the backyard through a sliding glass door. I closed the blinds so that she wouldn’t be able to see out, but her behavior did not change. I took her for a short walk (about half a mile) in the hopes that the exercise and getting away from the house would calm her down. She was fine on the walk, but her anxious behavior resumed as soon as we returned home.
There’s a difference between anxiety and fear. Fear is related to something concrete. It is logical and it can be addressed with behavior modification, such as desensitization and counter-conditioning. It may take some time, but fear will diminish if properly handled.
Anxiety is different. It is a diffuse emotion, not specific to anything in particular, but more an all-over feeling of anxiousness, as though something terrible may happen at any moment. It’s heartbreaking to watch a dog who is truly anxious, as nothing you do helps. I know; my last dog, Piglet, developed generalized anxiety disorder, which destroyed her quality of life in her later years. I was able to keep her anxiety under control with the use of a lot of medication, but she was never again the confident dog she was before she developed the disorder.
Piglet’s anxiety started with a noise phobia that kept escalating, but I didn’t take it seriously enough until it was too late. I tried medication (buspirone) at one point, but when it didn’t seem to help, I quickly gave up. I later learned that my vet had not prescribed a high enough dose, which is a common problem.
On Wednesday morning, I called my vet. I wanted to start Ella right away on a long-acting drug, which can take several weeks to become fully effective, as well as getting a quick-acting drug to use on an as-needed basis. The vet prescribed fluoxetine (Prozac), a long-acting anti-depressant that also helps with anxiety; and clonidine, a short-acting drug that can be used when quick relief is needed.
Nicholas Dodman, BVMS, DACVB, Program Director of the Animal Behavior Department of Clinical Sciences at Tufts University’s’ Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine, is one of this country’s leading veterinary behaviorists. I learned at a seminar of his that Dr. Dodman prefers using clonidine over alprazolam (Xanax) for immediate anxiety relief, as clonidine doesn’t carry the risk of paradoxical reaction that alprazolam does. If the medications prescribed by my vet don’t work well, I will contact Tuft’s PETFAX Behavior Consultation service for further advice.
I started Ella on both medications right away. Together they had a minor sedating effect – she walked rather than trotted – but otherwise, she acted like herself, with no further signs of anxiety. I continue to give fluoxetine daily, which is not causing any sedation, and will keep her on that drug until she returns to normal and is no longer afraid to go into the backyard or reactive to sights and sounds coming from the yard in the evening and at night. I will use the clonidine only as needed while waiting for the fluoxetine to take full effect, or if something happens to increase her anxiety.
Overreacting? Some of you may be rolling your eyes at this point, thinking you would never be so quick to drug your dog. I know, because I used to be one of those people. If I could do one thing over, I wish I could go back in time and start Piglet on medication before it was too late, before she developed the generalized anxiety disorder from which she never recovered. I will never make that mistake again.
When in doubt, particularly when anxiety is getting worse rather than better, I encourage everyone to use anti-anxiety medications sooner rather than later. Worst case, your dog doesn’t really need them and you’ll be able to wean her off quickly, but in some cases, it may change or even save your dog’s life. These medications are not dangerous and they don’t make your dog act “drugged.” They simply help dogs to overcome irrational anxiety, which they may not be able to do on their own.
Medications are not meant to replace behavior modification. Studies have shown that anxiety issues improve more quickly when anti-anxiety drugs are combined with behavior modification than when either method is used alone.
I have already begun working with Ella using treats and playing games to get her more comfortable near the backyard, and even occasionally going into the yard during the day, usually from a different direction (through the garage or gate rather than through the door where she was attacked). Ella and I recently began a Nose Work class, so I have her hunting for treats near the sliding glass door inside the house. (See “Sniff This – You’ll Feel Better,” WDJ April 2013, for more information on nose work.)
I debated skipping class on Monday, two days after the attack, but since she was moving well by then, I decided to take her, and it was the best decision I could have made. While a bit hesitant at first, she quickly got into the game and I saw her relax and start to show some of her personality again for the first time since the attack.
Since evening is when the raccoons are most likely to be out, and when she is more fearful, we do our behavior modification work during the day. I allow her to choose what she’s willing to do, giving her praise, encouragement, and food rewards for willingness to venture near and into “the scary place,” but never forcing her or even trying to coax her beyond her comfort level. This will be a long process that will take patience, but trying to rush things is only likely to make it worse, so we’ll take our time.
I was in touch with WDJ editor Nancy Kerns in the days after the raccoon attack, during which time, coincidentally, she was discussing an article with trainer and writer Nicole Wilde, the author of Help for your Fearful Dog: A Step-by-Step Guide to Helping Your Dog Conquer His Fears (Phantom Publishing, 2006). Nancy happened to mention what I was going through to Nicole, who very kindly responded with some advice for me.
Wilde suggested, “If there’s a dog your dog loves to play with, inviting that dog over to play in the yard could help more than anything.” She also recommended gradually feeding Ella closer to the backyard, petting Ella (or doing whatever Ella likes best) outside the door leading to the backyard, and playing games or feeding treats just outside the backyard (on the outside of the gate, not inside the house) and then gradually going in that way rather than going out through the house.
Wilde also suggested giving Ella alpha-casozepine, a component of milk that binds to the same receptors in the brain as valium and other diazapenes. Alpha-casozepine is marketed as De-Stress from Biotics Research in Canada and Zylkéne in the UK. Alpha-casozepine is also called Lactium, which can be found in a variety of supplements.
Ridding the Raccoon Here’s another thing I didn’t anticipate: Having to keep dealing with the raccoon. It has returned each night since the attack. I called my local Animal Control Monday morning, and they suggested I contact my county’s Vector Control office, which I did. An agent came out Tuesday, along with my local animal control officer, to assess the situation.
The two men told me that the culprit was probably a female raccoon with babies in a den under my deck. They were unwilling to try to trap her, though. If she proved to be a nursing mother, they would either have to let her go (transforming her into a trap-smart raccoon who would never be caught again), or kill her (causing the babies to die a lingering death and then decompose under my deck). As much as I wanted the raccoon gone, these were not good options.
They suggested instead that I try to drive the raccoon away by playing loud music (they said big band music is best!) from 8 in the morning to 6 at night, so that she’d be unable to sleep and would move the babies somewhere else.
The agents also found what they called a “latrine” – a big pile of scat – on the side of my house. At their suggestion, I cleaned up all the scat, then poured both bleach and Pinesol over the entire area, in hopes this would smell bad to the raccoon. I also sprinkled cayenne pepper around the area, hoping that a snoutful of pepper would make the area even less enticing to a raccoon.
The county agent told me that if these steps did not work, he would come back and pour male raccoon urine around the opening under my deck, to further incentivize the female to move her young. Once I am certain there are no raccoons under there, I will hire a professional company with experience dealing with raccoons to seal off the opening so that no other animal can move in.
I asked the agents if they had any suggestions for fighting off a raccoon, should it happen again, but all they could tell me was to call 911, which of course would have taken too long. I’m sure it was dangerous for me to grab the raccoon, and I was incredibly lucky that things turned out as well as they did. I didn’t get injured at all, so there was no need for me to get post-exposure rabies shots.
In the meantime, I have installed brighter lighting outside, and carry a weapon of some kind with me each time I go outside with Ella. My favorite is a mop with a flat head that I feel I might be able to use to pin the raccoon down, if needed. I also ordered an airhorn – if it will scare off a bear, maybe it will work for a raccoon as well. The downside is that it would also frighten my dog.
Rabies Ella was current on her rabies vaccination, thank goodness. Laws regarding possible rabies exposure vary from state to state, and local agencies are given a lot of leeway in enforcing these laws.
In California, where I live, if a dog is involved in an encounter with another animal whose rabies status is unknown, and that dog does not have a current rabies vaccination, the dog would either be euthanized (!) or would have to be quarantined on the owner’s property for six months. The vector control officer told me that California law requires dogs with current rabies vaccinations to be quarantined for 30 days. All dogs except those who have been vaccinated in the last 30 days are also given a rabies booster within 48 hours of a bite from an animal infected with rabies or whose status is unknown.
A friend (also in California) contacted her county animal control director, to find out whether this varies county by county, and was told that a 30-day quarantine was the minimum requirement, and they would increase that to six months if the attack was severe. Their argument was that no vaccine is 100 percent reliable, although the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) conducted a nationwide study of rabies among dogs and cats in 1988 and found “no documented vaccine failures occurred among dogs or cats that had received two vaccinations.”
I’ve heard of dogs being confiscated by local authorities after a run-in with a wild animal who were euthanized immediately due to a slightly overdue rabies booster. I’ve also heard from people who were told that their dogs would have to be quarantined in an animal control facility, at great cost to the owner (and great stress to the dog), rather than on the owner’s property, as the law generally permits. Be very careful about allowing anyone to take your dog; if possible, stay with your dog at all times while contacting a lawyer or someone else who can help if the authorities insist on taking your dog into custody.
While raccoons are the most frequently reported rabies carriers in the U.S., and the primary vector for the disease on the east coast, raccoons on the west coast almost never carry rabies. In California, bats are the most common source of rabies, with a handful coming from skunks and the occasional fox.
Progress As of this writing (Saturday, one week after the attack), Ella is doing well, but I still see the raccoon nightly. She is no longer using the “latrine” since I cleaned it up, but I continue to check it daily. I just started playing the radio under my deck today, so I’m hoping that maybe she’ll move out in the next couple of days. If she is still around after I am certain there are no babies, I will have her trapped and killed; in California, it’s illegal to relocate raccoons, as they will most likely either become someone else’s problem (and now impossible to trap), or will starve in a new environment. I would strongly prefer to “live and let live,” but not at the risk of my dog’s life.
Mary Straus is the owner of DogAware.com. She and her Norwich Terrier, Ella, live in the San Francisco Bay Area.
I said in last month’s article on dehydrated dog food diets that I hadn’t discussed dehydrated diets for quite some time in WDJ, and that I was surprised by the increase in the number of companies that now offer these products. What I didn’t realize at the time was that many of the companies that I am familiar with as makers of frozen raw diets now offer those products in a freeze-dried form. I learned this when, after I finished that last issue, I took a trip and toured a number of manufacturing facilities where raw frozen diets are produced. Turns out, every frozen raw dog food manufacturer I visited also makes freeze-dried diets.
And why not? In almost every case, the formulas that the companies freeze-dry are exactly the same as their raw frozen foods; they just freeze-dry the food instead of freezing it.
Freeze-drying is a simple, but energy-intensive process; it’s costly. But freeze-dried foods have a longer shelf life than their frozen counterparts, are light and compact (making shipping much more affordable than shipping frozen foods). And, oddly, some dogs who don’t like raw diets snap up freeze-dried foods like they are treats.
In fact, that’s exactly how some pet owners utilize these “complete and balanced” diets – as treats, rather than as a sole diet, due to their relatively high price. I have to say, though, after seeing these products made in a variety of facilities, that the manufacturing process of these diets is very close to the process used in making a home-prepared raw diet, with fresh, wholesome, and very lightly processed ingredients – well worth the cost.
The companies and products described in the table (PDF link below) are ones I should have included in last month’s article. I toured the production facilities for three Wisconsin-based companies, and discuss this at greater length.
Correction
Due to an editing error, there was one nonsensical sentence in last month’s article. It should have read, “Dehydration alters the cellular structure of meats, fruits, and vegetables much more than freeze-drying.” The appearance and taste of foods are less affected by freeze-drying than by dehydration, largely because higher temperatures are used to dehydrate foods; they are actually lightly cooked by the heat of drying.
Last week, the dog blogs and all of my dog-owning friends were upset about a column in the New York Times, written by a mother whose then-two-year-old got badly bitten by a dog. (http://www.nytimes.com/2013/06/02/magazine/the-dog-bit-me.html) In the column, the mother recounts the incident, which happened three years ago. Long story short, the dog involved used to be her dog, but proved to be uncomfortable around kids, so she rehomed him with her father; and then some months later, when visiting her father’s house, the dog bit the child – badly, and in the face.
I didn’t blame anyone for wanting to comment on the column; there were many aggravating things about the author’s tone, her seemingly grudging and incomplete feeling of responsibility for the incident, and her lack of understanding about and for the dog, who was sadly set up to fail.
A few days later, the same author wrote a sort of follow-up piece (http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/06/06/what-i-learned-too-late-about-keeping-kids-safe-around-dogs/) that somewhat helpfully showed what had not been clear from the first article: that the author actually learned a few things about keeping kids safe from dogs. However, she didn’t say anything about keeping dogs safe from kids – or keeping at-risk kids and dogs assiduously apart through the use of gates, doors, and crates.
I read a lot of the comments, but I didn’t want to chime in. There was plenty in both articles to criticize, but as the owner of a dog (my beloved Rupert, many years deceased) who had not one but two face bites on his permanent record, I’m here to say that sometimes someone lets the dog out at the worst time, and someone messes with the dog who shouldn’t, and oh my goodness I’m sorry and yes I am going to pay that hospital bill. (In my own defense, it was ultimately my fault each time, never the dog’s. And it happened each time in a moment of inattention – not even a minute, not even a quarter of a minute. A second or two that I’d like to have back forever.)
And dammit, you can’t ever get those seconds back, a horrid fact I was reminded of in the wee hours this very morning.
I was working late. It was hot, so all the doors and windows were open. A cat screamed in the backyard, and all the dogs – big Otto, little Tito, and a foster dog (a Corgi named Ruby) went flying out the back door barking, ready to do battle against the world’s feral cats. I leaped up and hissed myself, “No! Off! Come! Otto!” not wanting to wake any neighbors who hadn’t been woken already. The dogs came streaming back in, full of excitement, tails wagging, eyes shining. I turned to close the door behind them – and there was the second I’d like to have back. As if in slow motion, I saw Tito get jostled, and he stiffened, snarled, and snapped at the foster dog. And just as fast, she snarled and grabbed him by the back of the neck.
Tito screamed. I yelled, “HEY! OFF! NO!” – which didn’t make her stop her attack on Tito, but scared Otto enough to make him dodge out of the fray; I think he was about a second from diving in and attacking Ruby. Yelling didn’t make her stop or let go, though, so in the next second, I grabbed her by the scruff, still yelling, and shook the stuffing out of her. I lifted her off the ground (she’s only 25 pounds) but it still took her a second or two before she loosened her grip on poor Tito and he fell to the ground, still screaming. I carried her, still by the scruff, to the closest room (the bathroom) and threw her in, slamming the door behind her, because Tito was still screaming.
Thank goodness, he doesn’t have a puncture anywhere, but he’s sore and dispirited. He shook the whole time I cleaned him up (he had evacuated his bowels, and anal glands, in the melee) and shrieked and snapped at me a few times as I inspected him closely for damage. Ruby was going in this morning to be spayed, anyway, so I’m going to take him too and see if the vet will give him some pain meds.
I don’t think I missed any danger signs from Ruby, things that would indicate I should have kept the dogs apart. I had seen her stiffen a time or two when Tito growled at her (for example, when they first met, with her on-leash, and she sniffed his butt). But each time, I moved quickly to encourage them both to turn away and step away, and each time, she wagged and stepped away and that was that. I’ve only had her for three days (and am scheduled to have her for only another four or five days before she’s scheduled to go to her adoptive home, where she will be an only dog), but I really don’t think (so far) that I’m missing signs that she’s a scary, dog-aggressive dog.
That said, I certainly did fail to pay perfect attention and manage the situation to minimize any chance of an incident between her and my dogs. I should have walked farther through the door with the jacked-up little pack, and not turned to close the door until they were safely dispersed, not all bunched up at the door. And perhaps I should not have even had 10-pound Tito, known to bristle with that infamous and misplaced Chihuahua self-confidence, hanging out with a foster dog (even just a 25-pound female) with an unknown history so soon.
Anyway, I’m feeling a bit like that hapless New York Times columnist. Hit me! I’m ready (and sorry, Tito).
I’ve had relatively trouble-free dogs for a while. Long enough to forget how bad an owner can feel when one of our pets puts us between a rock and a hard place.
I have a friend who owns three dogs: a senior Chihuahua; a middle-aged probable Lab/Cattle Dog-mix; and 5-year-old Lena, a tall, lanky, who-knows-what-mix. Lena used to be (my dog) Otto’s BFF. They are still friends, but don’t get to see each other a lot, ever since Lena tore her ACL and had surgery . . . and her surgeon advised her owner that Lena’s hips are highly dysplastic and will likely require surgery at some point. Otto and Lena used to love to chase each other at HIGH speeds, and wrestle and play with total abandon; they’d play until they were both covered in spit and panting for breath, then they’d dig a hole in Otto’s sandbox and nap, and then get up, stretch, and start all over again. And then they would both be sleepy for a day or two afterward.
Of course, as she recovered from her surgery, Lena was put on a restricted activity protocol. And her veterinarian advised that she basically not be allowed to fetch balls or play at high speed with her hooligan buddy anymore, to preserve everything: her repaired knee, the other knee (often a dog who tears one will tear the other), and her crappy hips. Her owner has learned how to keep her entertained with food-stuffed toys, low-speed fetch, “puzzle” games (with hidden food), frozen bowls of water with chunks of hot dogs and other treats, etc. But she’s often bored and prone to destroying things when she’s left home (with the other dogs) during the work day. She’s taken books off bookshelves (and chewed them); gotten on top of the washer/dryer to reach things hanging on the wall above them (and chewed them); and chewed untold numbers of shoes, pillows, and other household items – despite having a limitless supply of raw bones, rawhide, pizzles, sticks, balls, etc. (And it’s not just pica eating; she rarely consumes any of it – just chews.)
So she can’t be left inside during the day. Instead, her owner built an elaborate kennel on concrete, with a roof and walls on two sides, and provided a princess-and-the-pea pile of dog beds. Which sufficed until my friend bought a new house, closer to town, and moved.
At the new place, my friend paid for a huge area to be fenced for the dogs, graveled the whole area with pea gravel except for some areas where she put down sand (for digging and more comfortable napping), built a sandbox in a shady corner, provided a wading pool, and filled a former tool shed with dog beds. Lucky dogs, right? Lena doesn’t think so. She’s taken to barking her fool head off all day while my friend is at work. And the new neighbors are complaining.
Never mind the fact that my friend has done everything she can to make both her dogs and her neighbors happy. She’s been working with all her dogs on their recall, so if they see a neighbor and start to bark, she can immediately call them to her and redirect them to another activity. She introduced herself and her dogs to the neighbors when she moved in, and explained that she had been living farther in the country, with no close neighbors in sight, and that the dogs might need some time to adjust. She supplied the closest neighbors – the couple that shares a fence line with the new dog run — with dog treats, and suggested tossing some over the fence if they are out in the yard and the dogs are barking. She gave them her phone number and said, “Don’t hesitate to call.”
They responded with an unsigned nasty note left on her gate the first day she left the dogs in their pen when she went to work.
One neighbor has been friendly and approachable, and offered my friend more detailed information. He said it’s just Lena who is barking. I loaned my friend a noise-activated tape recorder which confirmed that it’s just Lena.
My friend’s options:
Rehome the dog? Not going to happen.
Exercise the dog more? But those hips, those knees!
Leave her inside during the day? God knows what she will destroy.
Tell the neighbors to . . . ? Be not very nice to the neighbors? Not a great way to fit in, and not very safe for the dogs.
Daycare/dog walker? Out of my friend’s price range.
Drop her off at my house daily? I’m not always home . . . and even when I am, there is the matter of keeping a lid on her and Otto. They want to play! Although, she’s here today, and the heat is keeping them relatively quiet so far.
So, my friend is very unhappily looking at shock/bark collars. Until she tries one, she doesn’t know if Lena will be the type of dog who figures it out and accepts it – or one of the dogs who develops an extreme fear or aggressive response to being shocked when she barks at someone or something. But she feels like she has few other acceptable options.
Who gets more excited about traveling to see dog food production facilities? I can’t imagine that anyone gets more excited than me.
Over the next few days, I’m going to see a half-dozen manufacturing facilities that produce raw frozen and/or raw dehydrated canine diets. Some of these are produced in human food manufacturing plants. This gives me a great opportunity to compare their HACCP (hazard analysis and critical control points) plans with those of the various dog food plants I’ve seen.
I’m also going to visit a plant that provides high pressure pasteurization (HPP) services. While the majority of the company’s business is human foods, a growing number of makers of raw pet food are now using or looking into using HPP on their products – and not because any dogs have been made ill by their products. So, why?
In response to a high number of cases of foodborne illness (in humans), the Food and Drug Administration pressed for changes that would help the agency prevent outbreaks, rather than respond to them. Its efforts led to passage of the Food Safety Modernization Act of 2011, which (among many other things) reduced the amounts of various contaminants that would be accepted in raw foods, and reduced to zero the amount of certain contaminants (most notably for our purposes, Salmonella) that could be present in “ready to eat” foods. The FSMA also increased inspection resources for testing food.
For example, as I mentioned in the April 2013 issue of WDJ, the amount of raw chicken that can be found to contain Salmonella is now 7.5 percent, reduced in July 2012 from 20 percent. Believe me, the poultry and poultry processing industries are turning themselves inside out to reduce the amount of Salmonella-infected meat they produce, but without additional steps taken to actually kill the bacteria, such as irradiation or HPP, it’s understood that some amount of Salmonella will be present in raw chicken, even in the best supermarkets. It’s considered acceptable to find Salmonella in raw chicken because the FDA expects people to cook it, which in itself constitutes a “kill step,” and take other safe handling precautions, such as washing our hands, cutting boards, and anything else that has been used to prepare or contain raw meat.
In contrast, there is zero tolerance for Salmonella and other potentially harmful bacteria in diets that are “ready to eat” (that are not expected to be cooked) – and it applies to any food that is expected to be brought into a home and handled by humans, even food that’s meant for the dog. This goes for raw meat diets, dehydrated and freeze-dried diets than contain raw meat – and even kibble. THIS is why we’ve been seeing so many recalls of dry dog food for Salmonella – increased “surveillance” (testing) to protect humans from being sickened by Salmonella. Despite how it may appear, it’s not that the companies that make the recalled foods have suddenly gotten sloppy or are using subpar ingredients; Salmonella is in the raw ingredients, just as it’s in some of your supermarket meats, and it’s probably always been present in a certain amount of kibble. It’s just that kibble is now being tested – and tested more frequently.
Making sure they kill Salmonella in the extrusion process (and don’t reinfect it with any other ingredient or “dirty” machinery after extrusion) is the talk of the dry pet food industry today. But the raw food industry is different. This is an industry that believes in the ability of dogs to eat a biologically appropriate diet – the kind dogs have evolved eating – and just handle a certain amount of bacteria. Raw food advocates believe that it’s the very rawness of the food ingredients in these diets that gives dogs the vitality to encounter and vanquish bacteria with impunity – none of the foods’ natural vitamins, enzymes, and antioxidants have been damaged by the heat of cooking or other pasteurization.
But companies, especially small companies, can handle only so many recalls, and given the FDA’s new focus on surveillance of “ready to eat” diets, the pressure is on those that make raw food diets to subject their products to some sort of pasteurization process so as not to run afoul of increased testing and potential recalls. After all, as I’ve said, we know that Salmonella is present in the food supply, so expected products that contain raw meat to test negative is setting them up for failure. Unfortunately, this may well mean that every maker of raw diets may end up having to pasteurize their products.
Proponents of HPP say this process is the best alternative to cooking or irradiation. In a nutshell, in HPP, the foods are packaged in plastic and then the packages are immersed in tanks of water and subjected to enormous pressure, which effectively squeezes the bacteria to death. But because the food is compressed into itself, the cell walls supposedly don’t break and the enzymes aren’t released (which would make the food start breaking down. The food is reportedly so sterilized of bacteria, its shelf life is often doubled.
This process is being widely used in the human food industry, especially for meats. Go look at the packaged lunch meats in your supermarket, and check the “best by” dates – they have been extended by weeks (and in some cases, months) by this process.
Super-long way of saying, hey, I’m going to go see the process in action, and I’m excited. I’ll discuss what I saw and learned in the next issue of WDJ.
There are a host of other things you can do to lower general stress in your dogs’ environment.
If you’ve ever had a massage, you know how calming touch can be. Dogs aren’t that different from us; you can calm and soothe your dog with physical touch, both through canine massage and TTouch. Combine your calming touch sessions with aromatherapy, by using a therapeutic-quality lavender essential oil in an electric nebulizing diffuser in the room while you massage your dog. Then you can build your dog’s “ahhh” association with the lavender scent to help him be calm in more stressful environments, by putting a few drops of essential oil on a bandana that you tie around his neck or on the bedding in his crate.
It has been a while since we reviewed dehydrated diets – long enough that there have been quite a few additions to the pool of companies who make and sell this type of dog food. It’s increasingly popular, for a lot of reasons.
For one thing, “raw diets” are increasingly popular, too, and most of the products in this category incorporate raw animal proteins in their formulations. People who believe in the superiority of canine diets that include raw meat (often referred to as biologically appropriate or evolutionary diets) can use a dehydrated or freeze-dried food as a convenient replacement for their dogs’ fresh, home-prepared or commercial frozen raw diet.
Whether it’s dehydrated or freeze-dried, raw meat doesn’t seem so, well, raw. Most of us don’t think of beef jerky as raw meat, either, but it actually is. The drying process (and, in jerky, the use of salt and nitrates) “cures” the meat, altering its appearance and texture and concentrating its flavor – and, significantly, halting the biological action (decay) in the food – with less damage to the meat’s natural enzymes or vitamins than cooking temperatures would cause.
If you read the descriptions of each product listed in our Dehydrated and Freeze-Dried Dog Food Review, you will note that some contain “air-dried” or “dehydrated” (same thing) or freeze-dried ingredients. The difference in nutritional content of foods processed in either manner is negligible. However, dehydration alters the cellular structure of meats, fruits, and vegetables much more than dehydrating, more radically altering their appearance and taste than freeze-drying. Rehydrated, freeze-dried ingredients taste remarkably similar to their fresh, moist counterparts. Does this matter to your dog? You’d have to try different products to find out.
To learn more about Dehydrated and Free-Dried Dog food, and every other kind of dog food, subscribe to Whole Dog Journal today. This will give you access to premium subscriber-only content and the full version of this article.
Just a reminder to immediately investigate any time you notice your dog licking any body part more than usual – and of course, any unexplained wound, bleeding, or lump.
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The other day, I took a walk with my two dogs, and a friend and her two dogs (one of whom is Chaco, a Kelpie, one of my former fosters from my local shelter). We hiked on a trail next to the Feather River, which flows through my town. It’s hot here already, and the dogs jumped in the river and drank and swam frequently as we walked. About a mile from the trailhead, I, too, took the opportunity to clamber down an embankment and take a quick swim (the water is like ice). And from the low vantage of the water’s edge, I was able to see something that neither my friend nor I had seen as we had walked along: Chaco was bleeding a bit, in a most private area. Just a bit, and from above, the blood was hidden by her tail; I was able to see it only because she climbed out of the water and up the bank ahead of me; I was below and right behind her! If she had been an intact female, I would have figured she was in heat. But she’s spayed.
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We cajoled Chaco into lying down, and Chris rubbed Chaco’s tummy while I looked for a wound. I couldn’t find a wound but blood was all over her vulva. We immediately turned back for the car, calling a veterinarian as we walked as fast as we could. We were lucky: Chris had gotten off of work early, so it was only about 5 pm, and the vet was open until 6.
Long story short, Chaco had a foxtail in her vagina. Yikes! It was corroded enough that the vet thought it was likely that it had been in the dog for a few days. Chris had last walked her dogs on a trail three days before, so it was likely on that trip (not ours that day) when Chaco picked up one of the nefarious awns. Chris had noticed Chaco licking herself, but not much more than usual. And she hadn’t had any other symptoms – yet.
Foxtails (and many other grasses) have seed heads with barbed tails; the barbs are aligned so that the seed head will attach to anything it touches and “travel” in one direction. Each little piece of the awn – every little thread of tail – can travel in a wound and cause infection everywhere it goes.
Foxtails are most notorious for getting between dogs’ toes, up their noses, and in their ears. But they can embed themselves in any place. The veterinarian we saw said that Chaco’s was the second he had removed this season (so far) from a female dog’s private anatomy, and that he had removed one (so far this season) from a dog’s penis. Dogs with matted or thick coats can get them in any fold of skin or particularly thick bit of hair.
A dog’s skin is its only protection against foxtails, but it is all-too-easily breached. Once the foxtail gets past the skin (whether into an orifice or by stabbing into a thin-skinned spot, like between the toes), the awn can travel all over the body, causing infection, pain, and trauma. Generally, if you notice a dog worrying at himself early enough, a veterinarian can find the point of entry, follow the tract of infection, and remove the awn. But if the wound goes unnoticed and unexplored, the awn may travel far enough and cause enough trauma and infection to necessitate a major exploratory surgery to find and remove it.
At this time of year, when the grasses are turning brown and dry, and the seedheads are starting to blow about, be sure you check your dog carefully for stickers (and ticks!) after walking outside. Stay alert to any signs that your dog is grooming himself more than he usually does. And if he shows any sign of swelling, pain, head-shaking, bleeding, or limping, take him to see your veterinarian right away.
Have you ever felt dismayed over the shrinking access for our canine companions? I know that to a large degree we’ve brought it on ourselves by our collective carelessness about proper public and leash-walking etiquette.
Teaching your dog how to walk politely on a leash is more than just a convenience. When you can walk in public with your dog following your moves, he’s more likely to stay out of trouble.
Teach your dog the difference between walking and heeling. Whether you’re teaching “Heel,” or the less formal “Let’s walk!” the correct position for the part of the leash that stretches from you to the dog is slack, hanging down in a valley. Be sure when your dog is with you that you keep the leash slack. If you keep it tight, he’ll think tension in the leash is normal and correct.
