Tasha and Others

Archive for the ‘Behavior’ Category

The toy “Kong” is supposed to be indestructable. Not true! Tasha chewed hers into bits.

There was peanut butter in it, for one thing. I had been worried that Tasha was suffering from separation anxiety. She gets so upset when I go anywhere without her. So, following some advice, I gave Tasha the Kong, thinking that she would associate the sturdy toy with some fun while I was gone. But Tasha ate the Kong along with the peanut butter in the middle.

I wish I had taken a picture of the pieces of red rubber that were scattered all about. They were in the middle of a pile of dirt from a mud-covered bone that Tasha had dragged in. The stair landing was a doggie mess! I don’t know if there’s any toy that Tasha couldn’t get her teeth into.

I heard that you’re not supposed to leave a dog with anything that they can chew into little bits. Well, guess I messed up on that one. Next, the Galileo bone…

I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I’ve written in here. I’m home now and with Tasha again. She stays by me when I write, and she follows me around the house. Some would say that she’s a good candidate for separation anxiety.

I don’t do the right things. I tell her that I’ll “be right back” when I leave her. I don’t think she believes me. And when I come home, I’m as excited as she is. I’m not supposed to act as if I’m leaving when I’m going out or show much emotion when I walk in the door.

I just wrote an article for Dogspired on this topic. I learned quite a few tips. Since I’m doing everything wrong, it’s time to pick a plan and do some things right.

1. I need to give Tasha a special toy when I leave. She has so many bones and tennis balls, I’m going to have to buy her a “special” toy to have for the occasion.
2. Keep the television on. I do this when I’m working, so I’m sure Tasha would appreciate it if I left it on for her to hear and to drown out the noise of anything unusual. There’s almost no noise around here, but there could be dogs barking around the lake.
3. About the sleeping arrangement: Get her to sleep in her doggie bed. I always praise her for going in there, so she should see it as a good thing. I can’t afford for her to sleep all cuddled up next to me. You just never know…I read that her sleeping in bed with me fosters dependence.
4. No more jumping up when I come home. I know she’s happy to see me (or other people), but the jumping up has to stop. I know how friendly and social she is, but she can easily knock someone down. Don’t know how to solve this one.

Luckily, I work at home most of the time. This can be a good and bad thing for Tasha. She gets used to my being at home and dreads my leaving and not taking her along.

I’ll try out a plan and see if we can get it together. Stay tuned!

Percy, an Indoor-Outdoor Cat

If you have a cat, you will probably hear a lot of different ideas about whether he should be an indoor-only cat, an indoor-outdoor cat, or an outdoor-only cat. An “indoor cat” is one that is kept strictly inside the house at all times. An “indoor-outdoor cat” is a cat that lives inside, but that is let out depending on the whims of the cat and the owner. An “outdoor-only cat” is one that is left outside of the house all of the time. (A purely outdoor cat might be a “feral” or wild cat, but for purposes of this discussion, the cats are domesticated pets.) There are many differing opinions, so I thought I’d interview a few people who own cats. Here’s what I heard on the subject:

LLB: “If there’s distance from the street and no predators about (like raccoons or coyotes), I’d say outdoors is fine for cats–as long as they come in at night! However, there are a lot of cats that do their share of killing birds. Even if they live partly on store-bought food and partly on mole or mice entrails, once they get a taste of Tweetie, the party’s over. These days I’m much more partial to indoor-only cats. I wouldn’t turn my cat loose outside, despite the fact that there is wonderful flora and fauna; there are just too many predators lurking out there.”

EW: “My cat likes to go outside to roam the neighborhood, hunt, eat grass, and observe activity. I think he also likes to experience the weather, even when it’s wet, cold, or snowy. The downside is that he can get fleas and tapeworm, and get dirty from the streets. He has also had a few run-ins with other cats. He brings in birds, chipmunks, and mice, both dead and alive. The upside is that he gets more active play time outside, and I feel like he’s less bored than if he were totally confined to the indoors. I would like to keep him as an indoor cat, except that he’s expressed so much interest in going out that I finally gave in. Now he has me trained to let him in and out whenever he pleases. A kitty door would help, although it would allow the transport of hunted animals into the house. I think you have to consider the personality of your cat, your neighborhood, and your tolerance for dealing with the hazards of an outdoor life.”

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I’ve often heard people refer to their dog as “my best friend.” However, in my case, it’s also the other way around. I am my dog’s best friend.

Being an only dog, and a  rescue, Tasha is so connected to me that’s it’s rare to see her following anyone else. Of course, she is my girl, and she loves me unconditionally. I never treat her badly. In fact, I’ve made up for the abuse she sustained as a young pup, and have spoiled her rotten.

Tasha follows me all around the house. She lies near my my desk as I work, and goes up and down the stairs when I do.

The fact that she doesn’t come when I call her (a very bad thing), doesn’t mean that she won’t come running back to me. When she runs in the opposite direction from where I call her, she usually turns back and gives me a look as if to say ‘I’m running away from you now, but not too far, and I’ll come back’.  This behavior is anything but ideal. When she goes with me to the mailbox, crossing the lazy road that circles the lake, Tasha sometimes dashes away from me. She comes back to the house in a few minutes, ready for a  treat as a reward just for coming home. She seems almost relieved to be reunited with me.

Even if I deprive Tasha of a daily walk or a trip to the dog park, she forgives me, and still appears to love me. When I take her to see her “doggie pals,” she still gravatates toward me, not letting me out of her sight. I’d say that Tasha is a one-person dog. 

This type of admiration is heartwarming. I have to admit that it makes me feel good to have her prefer me to other people and dogs. When visitors stop in to see me, Tasha jumps up on them (another bad habit), but quickly changes her mind as she turns to jump on me instead. I see it as another way in which she shows  her love.

What do I do to encourage her feelings of  commitment? Of course, I’m the one who feeds her good food and gives her toys and treats. I take her with me on outings whenever I can. ( Tasha loves to ride with me in the passenger seat of the car.) If I don’t take her with me, she jumps inside the car when I return to see if there’s anything in there for her.

At night, Tasha enthusiastically gets up on the bed and lays her head on my stomach, the rest of her body stretched out, completely content while I read. Her eyes close. I think she’s happy that the day is over and that now it’s her turn. Her position on the bed lasts until I turn off the lights and drag her over to the other side where she sometimes sleeps for the rest of the night, her head on the pillow next to me.

I am my dog’s best friend, but afterall, she’s my best friend too.

I’ve tried not to give my dog people food–ever. No dog-food recipes, no table scraps, and no giving Tasha leftovers that would otherwise go into the garbage disposal. I do give her real bones, but in my mind it doesn’t count as people food.

Eating a dog bone

The other day I dropped a basket of strawberries on the kitchen floor. I thought I picked up all of them. That evening, Tasha came to me with something suspicious in her mouth. She was giving me the “I did something bad” look. At closer examination, I saw that she had a whole strawberry tucked away in the side of her cheek.

It wasn’t hard for me to pry open her mouth and see what was in there. She cooperated. I plucked out the strawberry intact, and told her again, as I have in the past, “No people food!” I think she understood. The stawberry was saved, and Tasha continued to eat only the dog food I put in front of her.

Tasha graduating

Tasha has been through three obedience classes. However, she sometimes has the most appalling behavior. She acts out in ways that have been identified in dog literature as the big “no’s.” For example, she:

• Jumps on people.
• Doesn’t come when called.
• Pulls on the leash when walking.
• Raids trash cans.
• Drops a ball or stick before bringing it back (this is an enigma becasue she is, afterall, a golden retriever).

The first two classes I took her to were at PetSmart, where they taught her to sit, stay, and finally, to come when called. Okay, so she has conquered one of five: to sit before meals and biscuits. The other behavior problems are probably my fault, as I haven’t enforced them enough.

The last class I took Tasha to was an intense two-week program. Again, they taught her to sit, come, stay, to lie down, and to come when called. The problem with this class was that I didn’t go with her. I dropped her off in the morning and picked her up in the late afternoon. They didn’t show me what or how they were teaching her, so I couldn’t follow their lead. I just assumed that she had finally gone through enough behavior modification.

Not so! To this day, I live with the fact that Tasha doesn’t retrieve. This wasn’t part of her training, but I’ve lost a lot of tennis balls and good sticks this way. The jumping on people is always embarrassing, as it is when she runs the other way when I call her. I tend not to want to walk her because she pulls me all over the place. Going through the trash is treatable, and Tasha doesn’t always do this, but when she does, she knows she’s being bad. I guess that this is her form of retrieving!

It seems to be pointless, but I still try to train her. Tasha is only about three-years old. Maybe as she gets older, she’ll listen to me. Or, maybe she needs a graduate training class.