I was dismayed to open the link to what sounded like an interesting new dog training product – the Pavlov Dog Monitor from the Apple App Store. The application is intended for pets at home barking and suffering with separation anxiety problems as a result of their owners being gone for long workdays.

http://www.prweb.com/releases/2013/3/prweb10511153.htm

My BS radar went on high alert when I saw this comment early in the text:

“Even shock collars have not produced the positive results we are looking for,” stated Phillip Angert, Owner/Inventor at Cheviot Hills, LLC.

Gee, what a surprise that shock collars haven’t produced positive results. Not! Because hey, getting shocked is the last thing a stressed dog needs to reduce his anxiety about being left alone.

The radar went to Code Red as I continued to read. The next-best last thing the stressed dog needs may be the very thing this product promises – a recording of his owner’s voice saying “Bad Dog!” when he barks. (It also says, “Good Dog!” when he’s quiet.)

Verbally reprimanding an anxious dog, if it has any effect at all, is likely to add stress, creating more anxiety, not less. And by the way, if saying “Bad Dog!” was all that was needed to stop a dog’s barking there would be a heckuva lot fewer barking dogs in this world…

The article also says, “As the pet begins to understand the philosophy behind the application, additional greetings are introduced to the program.” Wow. The world has just begun to accept that dogs have much greater cognitive abilities than we’ve given them credit for in the past. Now they understand philosophy? Holy cow, Batman!

They apparently beta tested the product on an “n” of 1 – a Border Terrier puppy who reportedly went from “a barking city dog with neighbors complaining all the time, to a calm puppy with a cured separation anxiety problem.” Pardon my (radar alert) skepticism.

Another bit of behavior reality: “Bad Dog!” has meaning because the owner is there, glaring at the dog, threatening (or delivering) some other negative consequence in association with the phrase. “Good Dog!” is reassuring and rewarding to dogs because it’s generally associated with some positive consequence – an owner’s smiling face, a scratch behind the ear, or even a cookie. When there is repeatedly no consequence for a conditioned punisher – or a conditioned reinforcer – both phrases will quickly become irrelevant to most dogs, and lose any effectiveness they might initially have because of their past association with good stuff or bad stuff. 

Some people, especially those engaged in the eternal quest for the quick fix, are going to buy this product. I predict great disappointment. Sorry, Apple, this one’s rotten to the core.

Pat Miller, CBCC-KA, CPDT-KA, CDBC, is WDJ’s Training Editor. She lives in Fairplay, Maryland, site of her Peaceable Paws training center, where she offers dog training classes and courses for trainers. Pat is also author of many books on positive training. See www.peaceablepaws.com. For more information.

Otto is my heart dog/canine soul mate, my mixed-breed wonder dog. His first six or seven months are shrouded in mystery, as he was brought into my local shelter at about five months old, after being caught in a chicken coop by an irate owner of formerly living chickens. (I love him so much, I’m willing to suggest that he might have been framed; he’s never tried to kill MY chickens!) Otto sometimes resembles a miniature Irish Wolfhound, or a gigantic Norwich Terrier; he’s right in between the two in shape and size and coat quality. He could be anything, though his behavior suggests a little something “birdy” — when he spots or hears birds, he points. Flushing quail or pheasants or wild turkeys (in that order) score an 8, 9, and 10 on Otto’s fun list. But chasing rabbits and deer (briefly) also score 10s – and he is not interested in waterfowl in the least. So much for his behavior informing us as to his breed.

It doesn’t matter to me in the least that he’s a big mixed-up pup. I love that his looks (and behavior!) are unpredictable and uniquely his.

But there is a big place in my heart for purpose-bred dogs, too. I grew up with stock dogs – mostly Kelpies and Australian Cattle Dogs. I was also familiar with hounds, used by some of our neighbors for hunting bears and wild pigs. Being around those rough-and-tumble dogs made me really fall hard for another purpose-bred dog, the Border Collie. They were just as keen, but gentler and more sensitive than the working dogs of my youth.

Rupert was my first and only Border Collie (so far). Until Otto came along, I would have said that he was my one-and-only heart dog. An old boyfriend bought him for me the year I graduated from college; we picked him out of a litter bred and born on a sheep ranch. His price? Just $50; he was the “dud” of the litter, without a shred of interest in (nay, fixation with) sheep that his $500 siblings showed in abundance, even at the tender age of just four months old.

Even without an interest in sheep, though, he was all Border Collie weirdness and energy. He displayed a fierce work ethic Border Collies are renowned for, as well as some of the odd fears or superstitious behaviors that can be the bane of the breed. I loved him, and he loved me, for all 14-plus years that we shared.

After he passed away, I could no more have replaced Rupe with another Border Collie than I could have replaced my mother, who died a year to the day before.

But a young Border Collie is staying with me right now, and it’s bringing up all sorts of feelings and memories of Rupie. Thank goodness, she has owners; I’m not at risk of adopting her and breaking Otto’s heart in some sort of canine polygamy. She belongs to a married couple, 80 years old – the parents of a friend. They, too, had a beloved BC in their past, and decided that their last dog would be another one like the one they gave their hearts to years before. However, they had somehow forgotten about the difficulty of the adolescent months with a Border Collie – the relentless need for activity and mental stimulation. They remember their last dog (suitably named “Keeper”) as being more or less perfect, without much of an effort on their part. “Pumpkin” (I cannot explain the name) is staying with me for a week for a bit of training and exercise – and my own enjoyment.

Oh, those dancing brown BC eyes! Oh, the mischief! The light-footed leaps, the quirky decisions, the superquick learning curve. The way a one-mile hike is turned into a three-mile race, with brave forays into the distance and lightning-fast returns. “Just checking! And c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, why are you going so slow!” Ack, my heart is melting.

She gets picked up on Saturday. But I’m already negotiating for inheritance rights with my friend. KIDDING! I want her owners to live forever! But I’m here. Just saying 😉

One of the tests I asked for at Otto’s annual wellness exam last week was a vaccine titer test. These blood tests are able to detect antibodies that the dog has produced in response to a vaccination. Such positive results can confirm that the dog responded in the desired manner to the vaccination and is now protected against the diseases he was vaccinated for.

However, many of us owners who ask (and pay) for titer tests year after year are not doing this to assure themselves that their dogs are protected against disease. In my case (and that of many of my friends), we are paying $50 to $100 a year for the test to prove to our veterinarians that our dogs are adequately protected against disease – to ward off the overzealous promotion of what we know to be unneeded (and thus excessive) vaccinations. Because once we have the first positive titer test results, it’s almost certain that he is protected for life from the diseases he was vaccinated for. The only exceptions to this are rare.

I adopted Otto from a shelter in June 2008. He was picked up as a stray two months prior, and was estimated to be about 7-8 months old. During his two-month stay in the shelter, he had received four combination vaccinations (for distemper, adenovirus Type-2, coronavirus, parainfluenza, and parvovirus); another vaccination for adenovirus type 2 (combined with parainfluenza and bordetella); and a rabies vaccine. The only vaccines he’s received since then are rabies vaccines: a 3-year vaccine given in April 2009, and another one given in late March 2012.

I brought Otto to a local veterinarian in spring of 2010 for a heartworm test and wellness exam. The vet was adamant that Otto also needed “booster” vaccines. The vet had been recommended to me as the best one in my town, so this was a bit discouraging. (So-called “boosters” do not, in fact, “boost” immunity. If the dog has wither circulating antibodies against disease OR immune “memory cells” — cell-mediated immunity that has developed following a vaccine against or infection from the disease — he’s got as much immunity as he CAN have against those diseases.) I asked the veterinarian if he would be content with the results of a vaccine titer test; if the test showed that Otto still had circulating antibodies to the vaccines he had received at the shelter, would he be satisfied that Otto did not need further vaccines? He said he would. So I paid for a titer test, which came back, as I expected, with a nice healthy positive result.

In spring 2011, however, I received a postcard from that veterinarian’s office suggesting that Otto was not just “due” but “OVERDUE” for a laundry list of vaccines. So this was going to be an annual argument, it looked like. I strongly believe in annual wellness examinations and blood tests, but I don’t think my healthy dog need to be vaccinated with anything but the state-required rabies vaccine again. I decided to seek out a new veterinarian – someone younger and, I hoped, more comfortable with the idea that Otto’s previous vaccinations and apparent good health meant he wouldn’t need further vaccinations for years, if ever!

I found a highly recommended veterinarian the next town over, a college town with a lot of progressive, younger doctors. He agreed that Otto was probably protected by his previous vaccines – but wanted to repeat the titer test to “prove” this. I figured if it helped him feel more comfortable NOT recommending further vaccines, it would be a small price to pay to have access to this larger, better equipped, more modern clinic. We ran another titer test; nice and positive. Otto and later Tito saw the same vet later in the year for unrelated issues, and I was mostly pleased with those experiences.

In spring 2012, when I made an appointment at this clinic for Otto’s annual wellness visit and a heartworm test, despite requesting the vet who saw Otto the previous year, I was given an appointment with one of the (older) practice owners. And she wanted to talk to me about vaccines. She felt strongly that a positive result to a titer test was not enough to prove that Otto was protected against disease. She told me that dogs whose titer tests reveal circulating antibodies may lack cell-mediated immunity (adequate T-cells) and be unable to defend themselves against illness. I have heard that, I responded, “but isn’t that rare?” She agreed that it was. “And can’t dogs with past positive titer tests be protected by cell-mediated immunity even if their later titer tests don’t show any circulating antibodies?” I asked. She agreed that this can be true – that previously vaccinated dogs may lack circulating antibodies, but retain immune memory cells that will “remember” experiencing a disease antigen, and mount a vigorous immune response if challenged with disease. But she wanted to stress that there are rare cases where dogs with nice high levels of circulating antibodies but a dysfunctional cell-mediated immune response failed to respond properly to a disease challenge. So her takeaway point was this: You should vaccinate your dog again, regardless of titer test results.

Back to the drawing board — looking for a new vet.

I recently found a young doctor at a clinic in my town. Before I made an appointment for Otto’s annual wellness exam and heartworm test, I asked the practice receptionist if I could have some time to talk to the vet and find out whether he was comfortable with the idea that Otto was not in need of any vaccinations. Later, talking to the vet on the phone, he said he would be willing to accept this – but would feel most comfortable with a current titer test showing a positive antibody result. Well, beggars can’t be choosers. I agreed, and the test came back positive. So far, so good.

It might seem crazy, paying as much as $100 for an unnecessary test annually in an attempt to prove that my dog doesn’t need a $20 vaccination. But I need a local vet who will work with me, happily, without feeling that “overdue vaccines” are putting my dog at risk. I spent 14 years with another dog whose severe allergies may well have been caused and worsened by the completely unnecessary annual vaccines I didn’t know enough to refuse in his first five or six years. I’m not going to risk putting another dog through years of suffering like that to save a few bucks. If the titer test is the price of a good local vet’s cooperation, I’m willing to pay it.

For a very thorough article on canine vaccinations and titer tests, see “Beware of Over-Vaccinating Your Dog“.

I took Otto and Tito to the veterinarian yesterday for wellness exams (and heartworm tests and blood tests) and spent $500. I had priced things beforehand, and knew what I was in for, but it’s still quite a bite.

I strongly believe in the value of annual wellness checks. It’s a perfect opportunity for the vet to find things that we owners wouldn’t necessarily notice, such as the beginning of a mass growing on the roof of our dog’s mouth, say, or a swollen abdomen. Routine blood chemistry, blood cell counts, and heartworm tests (where heartworm is a threat) are also valuable early-detection tools for any number of budding health problems; even if they don’t reveal problems, the “normal” values result may serve as a useful baseline down the road if problems do develop. It’s also a good time to ask the vet about low-priority things that you have been wondering about. Be sure to let the receptionist know when you book the appointment that you need a little extra time to have a number of questions answered or things looked at, so the vet has time to talk – and then prepare to pay for that time.

Health insurance plans vary, but many pay for – or at least discount the price of – regular wellness visits. I’ve priced these plans, but have blanched at the monthly cost of covering two dogs and two cats. By the time I pay, completely out of pocket, for the wellness visits and the various things that come up in a multi-pet family, that I would pay less annually for insurance and co-pays, but I just haven’t been able to make myself sign up yet. I’ll kick myself, I know, if Otto needs costly care – if he tore an ACL or got cancer, for example — but right now I just keep crossing my fingers and paying for things out of pocket. 

How about you? Are your dogs insured? Have you found insurance to help keep costs down? If you haven’t gotten health insurance for your dogs yet, why not?

One of my favorite things about my dog, Otto, is that he loves and apparently cherishes his squeaky toys. Unlike dogs I’ve known who feel that the only good squeaker is a dead squeaker, Otto has had squeaky toys that have lasted for years with nary a squeak-ending puncture. Sadly, this trend seems to have ended.

It started with a soft rubber pig that made a realistic, low grunty sound – not incidentally the noise-making toy that created more excitement from Otto than any toy ever had. Otto would do anything for that toy, including a long, arduous chain of behaviors, in order to earn a minute of blissed-out noise-making with that toy. But a moment’s inattention led to the toy getting stolen away by Diamond, my former foster dog, who very quickly chewed the pig’s nose off – and with it, the ability of the toy to make noise. When Otto discovered the theft, and attempted to make the pig grunt, he seemed genuinely puzzled by the “whoosh, whoosh” noise it made instead. He would make the noise, put the toy down, look at the toy carefully, nose it around on the ground, pick it up again, whoosh whoosh, again and again. He was disappointed — nowhere near as excited or as motivated by the toy as he had been before. As soon as the novel “Grunt, grunt” noise was done, so was he.

The toy was such a motivator for him, I took a long drive out of my way to return to the only store where I had ever seen the toy sold, and bought him another one. By this time, Diamond was placed in his new home, and Tito the Chihuahua isn’t a chewer, so I felt safe in handing over the new pig to Otto to enjoy. But within about two minutes, to my surprise, I heard a familiar sound: “Whoosh, whoosh.” What? I investigated and lo and behold, the pig’s nose had been chewed off, as neatly as if Diamond had done it.

A few months went by before I was anywhere near that one pet supply store again. I looked at the pig toy, and the price. Did I dare buy another one? It’s a fragile toy. But he used to treat it so gently; the first one lasted for at least six months before its rhinoplasty. I spent the money.

Sadly, the new toy quickly went the way of the previous two. It’s almost as if he can’t help himself. He loves the grunting noise, but he has to bite the nose off the toy. I won’t buy another, and it makes me almost as sad as it’s made him.