Impaling Oneself

I've long been a believer in finding one's own warmth instead of seeking it always from outside sources. I love my friends and my family and even my work (very people-oriented) very much, but solitude has not only never frightened me, it enriches me. I seek it on a daily basis, and I crave it.

In our rush-induced world, with distractions at every turn, we can literally entertain ourselves 24 hours a day. Many people have no idea how to "survive" stretches without human companionship, and even more so without electronics of any kind. We can be plugged in all the time.

I shudder at the thought. My time alone--truly alone--is very precious to me. Sure, I love my smartphone, my TV shows, and my computer. But true solitude? It's a gift.

Thanks to my friend Joe Peacock for making me stumble upon this link.

Elizabeth Gilbert first spoke to me in a book entitled The Last American Man. It's still my favorite of her works.

Here, she talks about closeness, and how not to "impale yourself" on others.

"Have we lost what we had inside these lines?"

This is a lovely song. Listen twice.

"Inside These Lines" ~Trent Dabbs

Seconds between Safety and Sadness

I was never the crossing guard at my elementary school. I jaywalk sometimes when I'm walking alone. I exceed the speed limit on the highway when conditions are good and traffic is flowing well. The stairs on my deck leading down into the yard have no railing on them. My anti-virus software is not 100% up-to-date.

I'm no saint when it comes to safety.

But I'm far from a sinner, either. I wear my seat belt every time I'm in a car. I wear my helmet when I scooter--and I would anyway, even if it wasn't a law. I never, ever wear flip-flops, because I'm afraid I'll twist my ankle being clumsy or stub my toe (and for dog's sake, what if I have to run somewhere suddenly? Flip-flops aren't shoes!). I don't tailgate, change lanes without a turn signal, or pass on the right. Even though my dogs are trained, I leash them when we are near traffic.

Safety matters to me. (No, that is NOT ME or anyone I know in that photo.)

I crate my dogs in the car, and encourage my students to do the same--and if crating's not an option due to the size of the dog or the size of the car, I encourage them to use seatbelt harnesses. I tell them to not allow their dogs off-leash until they are responding immediately to the come command in every possible situation. I tell them to never, ever crate two dogs in the same crate--no matter how much they "love each other." I teach them to hold their leash properly, make their dogs wait at doorways, avoid retractable leashes, and to pay attention to what they are doing at all times.

To potential adopters with whom I speak, I strongly recommend crate training for safety and structure. It's a "dogsend" for any dog going into a new situation, and it can avert serious accidents or problems with a dog you really don't know much about. This seems odd to many people, because they assume the dog they are adopting knows more than it does. But the bottom line is that this dog has never lived in your home. Keep him safe, and keep your other pets safe from his exuberance or lack of training, until you know each other better.

I'd never, ever leave a dog I don't know alone with other dogs (or kids, of course). But people do it. And because, like many things with the potential to cause harm, it usually works out, many people seem to think it always will. Until it doesn't.

I incorporate these messages into my classes and all my lessons. It takes a bit of extra time, but I know it's worth it.

I have horror stories from former students and potential clients, from friends and neighbors, from internet acquaintances and message board posters about What Could Go Wrong.

A woman adopts an adult dog with no known negative history from a shelter on Tuesday. On Thursday she is petsitting a friend's small dog, and leaves her new dog and that dog alone in the house while she runs errands. She comes home to find the small dog dead. Was the dog she adopted truly dog aggressive? Or did he simply see the small dog as prey?

The above story is not an isolated incident.

A student of mine called me in tears. She'd been working to wean her adolescent Shepherd mix out of the crate during the day (something I absolutely agree with, done in small bursts with well-trained dogs). She came home to find her dog had suffocated inside a potato chip bag he'd found in the kitchen.

I cannot imagine the horror and guilt she felt upon finding her precious companion this way. I know it tore her up. It was an accident. It was random. It was freakish. No one would ever think it could happen. But it did.

(Yes, I am aware that crates themselves can kill dogs. Collars get caught and dogs strangle, or they try to escape the crate and impale or horribly injure themselves in the process. I am not saying crating is 100% safe for all dogs, and I completely understand why someone would avoid it if the above had happened to them or someone they knew. I still say that properly crate-trained dogs are safest, overall.

As for collars, accidents abound there, as well. Chain training collars left on dogs can and do choke them. Pinch collars get caught on fencing, in other dog's teeth, and on other dog's collars. Even regular buckle collars can strangle dogs in some situations. I still collar my dogs, each and every one. For my dogs, the risks of collaring are miniscule when compared with the risks of not collaring. This is not true for everyone, but I believe it is true for most of my students and regular pet owners. If you are leery of collaring for the above reasons, you should try a breakaway collar.)

Some people simply do not understand that certain situations pose safety risks for ourselves and our pets. Many people suffer from the "it hasn't happened to me yet; therefore, it won't happen" syndrome. How often do you see dogs being carried loose in the beds of pickup trucks? Dogs on retractable leashes on busy streets straining at the end of the leash (at least 16 feet away from the handler, probably more) while the handler talks on a cell phone? Dogs off-leash on busy roadways? Small dogs left on balconies with very wide guard rails? Dogs left in closed (or partially open) cars on hot days? People bringing Chihuahua-sized dogs into dog parks (in the "large dog" section)? People leaving leashes and training collars on dogs at the dog park? People bringing their pets to fireworks celebrations? The list is endless.

And in addition to the "it hasn't happened so it can't happen" folks are the "bristlers." They are the ones who cannot handle any kind of criticism, who react immediately to other people "getting in their business" when it comes to pets or kids, even if they are doing something horribly unsafe. They scream, curse, yell, give you the finger, or attempt to harm you bodily if you even so much as suggest that what they are doing might pose a risk.

Haven't had this happen? The next time you see a dog in a hot car with the windows up, wait by the car for the owner to appear, and politely (and I mean, politely--be almost ingratiatingly polite) explain to them the risks they are placing on their dog. I can bet you $100 that they will not say, "Oh, thank you! I didn't know that. I won't do it again, and I really appreciate you bringing it to my attention." Well, at least not without dripping sarcasm, anyway. Be prepared to flee their unbridled wrath. (There's a blog post coming soon that talks about the inability to handle criticism. I've been "brewing" it for a while.)

I honestly don't think I look for safety risks; they just pop out at me. I notice them like lotharios notice buxom girls. And once I spot them, I can't "unsee" them, unfortunately. I see the potential for harm to happen to the pet or child in the scenario like a movie playing in my head. And it makes me angry.

Every day, we take risks. If we are smart and being rational, we calculate these risks instead of simply tossing caution to the wind. What has occurred in one's past will most definitely affect the risks one takes in the future. Often, critical thinking doesn't play a part in risk assessment in conjunction with events that have occurred to us before; we react in an emotional, non-rational way. It's all part of the human experience.

We also laugh derisively at the multitude of warnings now placed on everyday items that seem so ludicrously unnecessary, but let me tell you: if the warning is there, that means that someone, somewhere was injured by that product because they did the ridiculous thing. How does the saying go? Build an object that is 'idiot-proof' and they will simply build a bigger idiot."

What can we do to make our lives, and the lives of those who depend on us, such as our pets and our children, the best they can be? Calculated risk is an important part of life. Throwing caution to the wind in situations where mistakes cannot be undone is a recipe for sadness.

Be safe.

There are seconds between safety and sadness...a razor-thin line of them. ~Sarah Wilson

The Kindest Call

Have you ever been out for a walk in your neighborhood, or anywhere, with or without your dog, and had a loose dog menace or attack you? It's a terrifying experience, especially when you look around for an owner--or anyone to help as the dog is coming toward you with negative intent--and see no one. You feel helpless. Even if you are not normally afraid of dogs, or even consider yourself a dog lover, being menaced by a loose dog is an experience everyone wants to avoid.

Depending on where you live, this may be a common occurrence, sadly. I get calls on a weekly basis (and regular queries from my students) about how to handle it if a dog is approaching with intent. There is no one answer that works in every situation as the moment is unfolding; putting something between you and the dog is your best hope if you don't want to carry "doggy mace."

Once the incident is over, though (hopefully sans injuries, but take care of those first if they do happen), there is something important you simply must do. Call your local Animal Control (typically in your county or municipality) and report the incident, giving as much detail about the dog and the situation as you can. If you live in an area that is prone to this sort of unpleasantness, have Animal Control on speed dial so you won't forget to call them.

Many people have reservations about reporting loose dogs or inhumane circumstances with pets to Animal Control. Though no one appreciates being harassed by dangerous or potentially aggressive animals, and no one likes to see suffering, when told to “call Animal Control,” many people blanch at the thought. They don’t want to get their neighbors in trouble, and they worry about what will become of the animals that are picked up. But if you don’t call Animal Control, an agency that your tax dollars are funding to keep you and the animals in your community safe, then who will report the situation? Many people complain about roaming animals, and some are so worried that their own dog’s exercise needs suffer. They have been attacked or menaced before, and now can only walk their own dogs at certain times of day, if at all. Some wonder, “why doesn’t Animal Control do something?" Well, how will they know there is a problem if you don’t report it? Don't assume someone else has reported it. If they haven't, your call is vital. If it's already been reported, your call is more proof that Animal Control is needed urgently in that area.

What happens to the dog you report should not be more important to you than your own personal safety, the safety of your children and neighbors, and the safety of your own pets.

Dog owners are losing our rights on a daily basis, it seems. I see links to stories pretty frequently regarding breed bans, dangerous dog ordinances, crackdowns on leash laws (which are not necessarily a bad thing, but it's hard on dog owners when municipalities go from "no enforcement" to "strict enforcement"), and more. Many insurance companies have started dropping homeowners for simply owning a “suspect” breed, regardless of the dog’s temperament. Public places are not as open to dogs, even well-behaved ones. Law-abiding pet owners end up being demonized for doing nothing wrong because irresponsible people have given dog owners in general a bad name.

Reporting abuse and loose dogs to Animal Control is a civic duty. Pets that belong to irresponsible people are a hazard and a nuisance, and the owners need to be taken to task for it. One call might not get action, but 2, 3, or more calls will. How is it fair for irresponsible people to “get off the hook” when their actions jeopardize YOUR safety, and the safety of your pets? Animal Control has the police power to write citations and bring charges when needed. They are a valuable resource to the responsible pet owner. They are the ones who can go after the irresponsible pet owners in your area, and wth the right evidence, get convictions. You could provide that evidence.

(For those of you who will say that you regularly call A.C. and yet there are still dogs being abused and neglected in your area, I cannot defend this. I never said the agency works perfectly everywhere; it's often short-shrifted in budgets, unfortunately. What you need to know is this: in many places, without evidence, at least 2 witnesses, and a perpetrator, a case cannot be made for abuse. These safeguards exist to protect owners' legal rights, and that means you, too.

If an animal has access to shelter, food and water, even if you don't agree with its living conditions, A.C. may not be able to cite the owner or remove the animal. Check with your A.C. so that you know. And hold their feet to the fire if they are truly not doing their jobs.)

If you are not calling Animal Control because you don’t want the loose dog to be euthanized, I can sympathize with your large heart. I really can. But know this: in many cities, being picked up by Animal Control is not necessarily a “death sentence,” especially when the animal isn’t aggressive. Many Animal Control facilities have their own adoption programs, and some work with rescue groups to reduce the euthanasia rate. It isn't near perfect, but in many places, it is getting better.


(Yeah, I know about the pit bull problem: in some places any dog picked up that even remotely resembles a pit bull is euthanized immediately, regardless of temperament. Pit bull lovers hate this, and I can't say I blame them. I'll address this in a future post.)

However, a dog that bites, scratches, or attacks people or other pets (breed is irrelevant here) is a danger to your community. You can bet that you are not the only responsible pet owner or neighbor affected by him. He needs to be caught (safely, by professionals). If he turns out to be a placeable, adoptable animal, then he probably has a chance at a new home.

Regardless, why are you allowing the well-being of an unknown, potentially sick, aggressive or potentially-aggressive dog to trump your right to a safe neighborhood? Putting his well-being above your own (and the humans and other pets in your neighborhood) is misguided. I know, I know—“it’s not his fault; he shouldn’t have to pay with his life because some idiot didn’t take care of him.” He shouldn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that he is very likely a danger.

Which of the problems at hand (free-roaming dog is menacing/attacking people but he'll be put down if I have him picked up) gets to trump the other? In my book, safety wins. What happens to the dog you report once Animal Control picks it up should not be more important to you than your own personal safety, the safety of your children and neighbors, and the safety of your own pets.

Do you think that, if you don't call them, the problem will go away on its own? Maybe the dog will be taken in by a kindly stranger and suddenly become a nice house pet? The likelihood that it will be hit by a car, poisoned, or starve to death is greater.

If you have a run-in with a loose dog or an irresponsible owner, or you see abuse or neglect, report it. (In some cities, you can do this anonymously.) Do it more than once if you have to. Don’t automatically assume the worst of Animal Control, especially if you've never dealt with them. Your taxes pay them to keep you safe.

Sometimes, it is truly the kindest call you can make.

The Space Between the Notes

Most dog owners are pretty familiar with how to meet a dog’s basic needs. These include quality food, fresh water, proper shelter, proper grooming, and veterinary care. Dogs require the above primary needs to survive.

Many dog owners also understand that dogs have additional needs, as well. The ones they typically recognize are proper identification, exercise, affection, playtime, and training (house manners and obedience). These secondary needs enable dogs to not just survive, but thrive. Dogs are incredibly adaptable, and can survive without the above, but they will not be their best, or their happiest. Their humans will also be frustrated with their behavior, too, and may elect to relinquish them.

What many dog owners do not know is that dogs have additional secondary needs, also needed to thrive. These are:

· Confinement
· Structure
· Elimination of confusion
· Mental stimulation
· “Work”
· Passive bonding
· Stress reduction
· Leadership


Though all dogs benefit from the above, some need less of each, and some need more, and some need different tools to get there. Every dog has personality differences, and different breeds have different specific needs.

People are sometimes quite surprised to find that the Corgi (or German shepherd, or Dalmatian, or Lab, etc.) that they acquire in adulthood acts differently than the one they grew up with. Personalities vary within breeds, and even within individual litters. And let’s not forget the concept of “selective memory”: many people’s memories of their beloved, long-dead childhood pets are rosy and sentimental. They tend to forget the hardships (or the fact that Mom or Dad actually trained the dog) and mistakes.


That's me above, circa about 1977, with the dog we got when I was 5, a Springer spaniel named Hanna. I helped a little with her training, and she really was a friendly dog. But I'm sure my whole family whitewashes her; I can't recall a single bad thing she ever did. However, I would not own the breed again, so my whitewashed memories do not override what I've learned the last 30 years.
This "rose-colored glasses" syndrome isn't just associated with our pets, either. Neuroscientist blogger Patrick, on the blog veryevolved.com, writes

It’s not surprising to say nostalgia is all about memories. These recollections of our past are usually important events, people we care about, and places we’ve spent time at. What is perhaps a little surprising is that nostalgia is almost always associated with positive emotions – even when the trigger for recalling a nostalgic memory is something negative. In the study I’ve linked to [link is broken] the negative memory people reported was usually a bad situation that was eventually overcome – a bad memory tempered with a good outcome and association.

Sorry for the digression, but I talk to people on a daily basis who are dealing with this syndrome. I hope to write more about "the dog you have, not the dog you wanted to have" sometime in the future.

Anyway, let’s look at each of these additional secondary needs briefly:

CONFINEMENT enables the dog to make fewer mistakes in the home when he first arrives, until training “takes.” Crates are the most effective confinement tool, but other tools can work. All dogs in a new situation need confinement when they are not being directly supervised. And contrary to what some people believe, the majority of dogs appreciate confinement, especially during that somewhat stressful acclimation period but often throughout their entire lives, more than you’d think.

STRUCTURE is what helps dogs relax and understand boundaries. It involves consistency and predictable consequences. Dogs do not need or want to be completely “free” and unstructured. The vast majority of pet dogs value structure over pure freedom. It’s a lot less scary to know exactly what’s ahead, right? A shelter dog put into a new home situation and left to his own devices can suffer a mild meltdown. I've often written and said that shelter dogs are not in shelters because of too much structure--they are often there because they never received enough. For children and pets, proper structure is a gift of love.

ELIMINATION OF CONFUSION is training, done with lots of rewards for the right behavior and clear instruction to help the dog “get it.” Set him up for success so that mistakes are fewer, and correct dispassionately if you catch him “in the act,” or, ideally, just prior. (A correction can be anything from an attention-getting "EH-EH!" to a leash "pop", always followed by redirection and reward.) Do not punish after-the-fact. Nearly all dog misbehaviors are the human’s fault. It’s not fair to be confusing. If you ever find yourself saying, “But he KNOWS better!” it’s very likely that he actually doesn’t. So show him.

MENTAL STIMULATION keeps the brain from getting bored. Many destructive behaviors stem from lack of mental stimulation. Use interactive toys (such as the I.Qube at left), daily walks with obedience thrown in, car rides and outings, nosework, and mental games like hide-n-seek or “Find It.” Dogs with jobs are happier than dogs without. And one of the coolest things about mental stimulation is that it tires dogs out as well as (or sometimes better than) physical exercise. Most pet dogs are vastly understimulated mentally.

WORK is part of your dog’s heritage. All dogs were bred for a specific purpose, even the toy breeds. (Sitting on royal laps is a vocation!) Learn your dog’s tendencies, and give him appropriate jobs to do. There are tons of dog sports or activities you can become involved in, even as an amateur, but it need not necessarily be intensive—even obedience and “fetch” can be work for “less intense” breeds and mixes. Work provides mental stimulation, too.

And do not acquire a field-bred dog or high-drive breed if you aren’t going to actually work him in the sport or job to which he was bred, or as close a variation as you can. It’s unfair.

The Belgian Malinois is a beautiful, alert, high-drive dog bred for police work. The breed excels at bitework (pictured above). It does NOT make a good pet for the average (or even above-average) household.
Active bonding happens when you are your dog interact. When you play, cuddle, do obedience work, dog sports, or tricks, or walk your dog with purpose, that’s active bonding. You and your dog are in tandem, fulfilling each other’s needs actively and purposefully. But what about when you aren’t doing that stuff?

“Music is the space between the notes.” ~Claude Debussy

PASSIVE BONDING keeps the relationship humming. It is the space between the notes of activity. Passive bonding is watching TV/reading/knitting/working while your dog lies sleeping at your feet. It can be the dog sleeping in bed with you (if he’s earned it). It’s the dog gnawing a favorite chewy or toy while you hang out with your spouse, or even alone. For new puppy owners, passive bonding is taking place when your pup sleeps in his crate in the room with you (the sound of your breathing is comforting to him) as opposed to being crated in another room. Most dogs will fall asleep during this time, but that’s not a problem. What makes it passive bonding is that Fido is in the room with you, probably near you, maybe even touching you, but you are not actively interacting with him. Owners need self-control for this exercise (this is not “fondle time”), and some dogs are better at it than others. But all dogs can—and should—learn how to do it.

If you are constantly touching your dog, he is likely to become confused, neurotic, pushy, or even clingy, depending on his temperament. Our constant need to touch is more about what we want than what our dogs need. Ignoring the dog’s real needs increases stress and makes for an unhappy dog.

WHAT? Did I just tell you that you aren’t allowed to pet your dog? Absolutely not. That’s one of the main reasons people acquire dogs! Touch is important to both our species, but there is such a concept as “too much of a good thing.” Affection is necessary, soothing, lowers your blood pressure and releases a bonding hormone known as oxytocin, all positive things. But it should be (1) purposeful, (2) on your terms, and (3) not make up the bulk of your time with your pooch.

It's quite possible that you are, at this very moment, engaged in passive bonding with your dog as you read this; I was when I wrote it. (There's a cubby in my desk underneath my computer, and it's my terrier mix's favorite spot to be in as long as I'm working.)

STRESS REDUCTION helps your dog to feel safe in your world. The elimination of all stress is neither possible nor preferred, because in small amounts, stress aids the learning process. Without stress, we cannot grow. But our pets are subject to many types of unnecessary stress, and alleviating some of it makes a difference. Balanced training and structure are stress-relievers. Are you seeing a pattern here?

LEADERSHIP is the ultimate goal, the pinnacle, the summit. Dogs are born knowing they belong in a social group, and social groups always function more efficiently with a benevolent leader. Be the leader in your relationship with your dog, and he will be his very best. Leadership is about discipline, but not about force. Lack of leadership causes a host of behavioral problems, including many types of aggression. Want your pooch to worship you? Be a leader. Want him to “have your back”? Earn that respect by being clear, consistent, and following through.

Show Me

Last weekend I attended a dog training seminar/workshop with my two favorite dog professionals, Sarah Wilson and Brian Kilcommons. Titled “Dealing with Difficult Dogs” and put on with the help of the Longmont (Colorado) Humane Society’s amazing behavior department (headed by Aimee Sadler, a phenomenal trainer in her own right who has made Longmont’s program training and socializing shelter dogs the best in the country), the seminar used shelter dogs and focused on the husband-and-wife team’s separate strengths: Brian’s difficult dogs are pushy, confident, “dominant,” and aggressively reactive. Sarah’s specialty is with shy or timid dogs, and less-aggressive reactive dogs—what she calls “deficit dogs.” Both focus on communication and connection, and both, thank Dog, focus on helping pet owners train their own dogs.

I know many dog trainers who have great training chops. They can take just about any dog and work magic before your eyes. I’ve learned a lot from them. But when they try to explain what they do to the novice pet owner, or show owners how to get the same results, or even explain to the audience how what they do works, they often choke. They just don’t have the “people chops” to create lasting change. Brian, and especially Sarah, do. And that’s one reason I will travel long distances to see them in action whenever possible. I had seen this seminar before, last year. But I knew if I attended again it would be slightly different, and I’d learn more. I was not disappointed.

I probably attend 1-3 dog training seminars and workshops every year, though the number is fewer this year because of the poor economy. I will occasionally attend lecture-only seminars, but I’d love to not have to. I need to spend what little money I have for “continuing education” on workshops that give me the best bang for my buck. Going to hear a dog trainer lecture—with nary a dog in sight—is usually a waste of my time, though the better ones of these have video accompaniment showing lots of footage of the speaker “walking the walk,” and a presentation style that leaves you wanting more. The lamest ones, I’m sorry to say, are strictly Powerpoint or someone promoting his or her book. Really? I could have read the book and saved myself the travel expenses, thank you.

(Actually, the lamest presentation by a so-called dog expert I ever saw was a traditionally “hot” young woman with her “world-renowned trick dog.” She underestimated her audience, a diverse group of canine professionals, who have more skills than she did, and worse, her dog would do nothing if she wasn’t shoving treats in the dog’s face. She simply had no visible relationship with the dog. As she tried to talk in between tricks, the dog ignored her “stay” command and wandered around the room, urinating on the floor and sticking its head into people’s purses or bags, searching for food. At one point, it put its paws on a table and stole some treats that were there. The entire time this was happening, the presenter was halfheartedly asking the dog to “stay” and shrugging and smiling like it was funny.

It was excruciating to watch. She seemed like a perfectly nice person, but her shtick didn’t impress. At all. "Nice" and "hot" were not what we paid to see. Note to presenters: if the dog you bring—your supposedly well-trained dog you have a bond with and have spent years training-- won’t listen to you while you talk, the audience won’t either. Yes, crap happens, but it was obvious this woman had not prepared for her presentation, which is disrespectful to the audience.

To top it off, more than half of her presentation was self-promotion, though not of her work. I consider it an epic fail.)

Sadly, many more so-called “professionals” hold workshops and seminars around the country every year and never work a single dog, or only show their highly-trained dog in action. I understand why sometimes having multiple strange dogs to demonstrate on might not be feasible (venue won’t allow it; seminar or conference too large; shelter dogs not available; audience doesn’t expect it; time constraints; etc.). But those tend to be lame excuses. More often than not, I suspect, it is a lack of confidence on the speaker’s part that he or she can “walk the walk” in front of the audience. I personally feel that some of these speakers plan their presentations so that having dogs there is not feasible—on purpose.

Why would they do this? Why not work some dogs at your dog training seminar? For some, it’s the aforementioned anxiety. For others, it’s because they know their methods do not fit neatly into a seminar format (this is especially true for the “positive only” crowd, a large—and unfortunately—powerful group who will, to the detriment of most dogs, do just about anything to avoid dogs getting any unpleasant information), or will not “show well.” I can excuse a tiny portion of this nonsense because I do not organize seminars or workshops and realize I don’t know all the logistics. Like I said before, I do occasionally spring for presentations wherein dog trainers simply talk about training and don’t actually do any. But I am less and less inclined to do so than I was 5, or even 3, years ago.

Mostly, these days I don’t pay unless there’s going to be some play. Ideally, the speaker will work multiple dogs that he or she does not know—and it’s better still if they are not the audience members’ no-longer-green dogs. Even better, the professional will let audience members work dogs while they offer feedback. To me, the true test of a good canine and human teacher is one who can take heretofore unseen dogs and show you the process of training in a short amount of time.

This is what Brian and Sarah do. And I respect the hell out of them for it. And I pay to see them whenever possible, because not only do I always learn a little something new, I want to support their efforts to improve the quality of training dogs get. I also want to support their methodology, which combines clear instruction with appropriate feedback—both positive (lots) and negative (enough). In their hands, dogs have “light bulb moments” rather frequently. It’s a joy to watch. It’s as positive and fun as any training you’ll ever see—and it’s incredibly effective.

Bonus: Sarah has umpteen videos on YouTube of her—surprise!--training dogs that are not hers. Many can be found at her phenomenal website and forums for dog owners, MySmartPuppy.com, and a great many are free.

It’s time for those who make a living training dogs and people to “put up or shut up.” If your methods are superior, show me. And don’t just show me with your already-trained dog of a breed commonly owned by dog trainers. Show me with a timid Chihuahua, an adolescent Basenji, an out-of-control, pushy Shepherd mix from the shelter. My demand to be shown especially applies to trainers who believe that all dogs can be trained with one tool, or in one way, or who ignore the laws of Nature and go out of their way to completely eliminate stress for the dog.

Show me you working the dog and getting results. Show me how you’ll translate that instruction to a novice pet owner without confusing scientific terms, grandstanding regarding tools, cockiness, a holier-than-thou attitude, and the assumption that pet owners are unworthy. Show me how your way will start getting results for novice pet owners in MINUTES, not days or weeks, and without incredibly detailed rules that novice pet owners will never adhere to. Show me how you’ll make the owner exclaim, “Wow. I really CAN do this! And now I WANT to!”

Dog training is NEVER a “quick fix.” It takes time and effort to see results, though many pet owners want them to appear as if by magic. This is not reality, and it’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about fun, effective methods that are doable, start to work right away, and that inspire confidence in owners to keep at the business of training so that they can have the dog they deserve.

Because results matter. Show me.

Cogitate on it

How do you gestate?

There are many ways to do it. And there are many reasons to do it.

Eric Booth, in his book The Everyday Work of Art, defines gestation as a pause to "reflect, step back from action, to allow intuition and other wordless inner processes to perform their roles" and considers it a necessary part of decision-making and what he calls "world-making." It occurs mostly under the threshold of our attention, in our subconscious.

In dog training, we would put the dog in his crate after a working session to help him calm down and "ponder" what he'd learned. It seems odd that a dog would think about what just occurred, but many trainers find that this does seem to make a difference. It also serves to make training more interesting, as the dog sees it as a chance to be out of the crate and be with his humans.


In contrast, working the dog and then letting him play all the rest of the afternoon with his doggy pals won't allow him time to gestate his new knowledge. Plus, playing with other dogs often supersedes "boring" time with humans doing exercises, so a "green" dog who has not developed a full relationship with his owner or handler will prefer the playtime to the person, thereby making said person a little less relevant.

I have had prospective clients tell me that they take their dog to daycare 3, 4, or even 5 days per week. Usually, this is a daycare that does not meet my standards, and the dogs play all day long. The dog's owners tell me that the dog doesn't seem to give two squirts about them when he's home, and he doesn't listen.

Well, who can blame him? His owners are so far removed from his life that they have become irrelevant. The same thing can happen sans doggy daycare, with owners who won't confine their dogs, ever, and allow them to do whatever they want to do save for the few minutes a day they ask the dog to sit or lie down for some reason.

Having a dog should not be about simply perfunctorily going through the motions to satisfy his needs for food, shelter, and exercise. It should be about developing a relationship, and a bond. Owners who pass off Rover to daycare too often find that being less relevant is not very much fun. (And yes, there is a case to be made for a correlation to nannies raising the children of the rich, but I decided not to go there.)

Gestation doesn't only help dogs to learn. It helps us.

Regardless of what the situation is, I can almost always see the problem much better after I have put it away and ignored it (and I mean ignored it completely) for a while. Sometimes, gestation results in a "Eureka!" moment, and I realize I've just discovered some new way to look at it, which is great fun--even if that doesn't solve the problem.

Sometimes, sleeping on it is the answer. I have also meditated on it, taken a walk on it, written on it, read on it, lain on my back and looked at the sky on it, climbed a tree on it, watched a movie on it, gone to dinner with friends on it, or listened to a favorite orchestral piece of music on it (I think the fact that a symphony or a movie score comes full circle and resolves itself has a lot to do with that working). Every now and again, a bourbon on the rocks will do it, but I drink pretty infrequently, so that's not something I go to right off.

Booth says, "Dreams (of the day or night variety) do not travel the way the crow flies; they zigzag like a butterfly. These tools of gestation go to deep places our intuition would like to tap, to worlds we know, unbeknownst to ourselves."

What about you? When you are faced with a thorny conundrum, how do you gestate? And how long does it take? Is it different depending on the issue? Do you find that skipping gestation results in a degraded solution? Has it ever not worked?

What are you laughing at?

If you had told me 10 years ago I'd own Chihuahuas, I'd have laughed at you. I now own 3, plus 2 other small mutts. All are shelter adoptees.

"Real" dog trainers don't own "frou-frou" dogs. "Real" dog trainers own Belgian Malinois, German Shepherds, Dobermans, field-bred Labs, Australian shepherds, and Border collies. And if they own toy dogs, those are not their "main" dogs, those are ones they picked up along the way (because dog trainers tend to collect dogs like kids collect rubber bracelets).

I have nothing against the above breeds, but I am a real dog trainer, and I have small dogs. And I am hooked.

For one, my dogs are incredibly portable. I can fit all five easily in crates in my van, with room to spare. Many of my trainer friends have to car shop with specific prerequisites in mind for how crates will fit.

Small dogs are cheaper to own. Food and preventative medicine is cheaper. Dog beds, collars, leashes, and training aids are cheaper. Cheaper is good. Because when you have multiple dogs, things get expensive. And I am a cheapskate.

Smaller portions of food=smaller poops. I can take one newspaper bag on a walk with all 5 dogs and not fill it up.

Small dogs (with some notable exceptions like terriers) need less exercise. This is especially nice because I am lazy during my leisure time. Sure, I like to hike and do stuff, but I also like to do things without my dogs (which is another black mark on my dog trainer resume). And they are OK with that--they'll just nap.

Small dogs take up less space. My partner and I share a queen size bed with 4 of our dogs (the 5th is weird and prefers to sleep under the bed unless Jupiter is in retrograde on a Thursday night). They all sleep under the covers, and we still have room. Try that with 5 Malinois.

The "less space" thing is also handy around the house. It allows us to have more furniture. I never trip over sleeping dogs in the middle of the living room.

Part of the reason I don't is because small dogs get out of your way when they notice you are coming. Larger dogs that have been trained do, also, but it often takes them longer to get going, especially as they age. One of my cardinal rules when it comes to training is "never step over your dog; gently but firmly make him move." I never have to make my dogs move--they are on high alert to Get The Hell Out of the Way or get stepped on by clumsy humans.

Small dogs can get in your lap, and cuddle with you, without cutting off your air or causing your legs to fall asleep. And several of them can be in your lap at once. Your 2 Boxers both want to be in your lap at once, but there ain't much room for that.

And don't let some macho dog trainer tell you he doesn't ever cuddle with his dog. He does. Besides, most pet dog trainers are women, and we need the oxytocin dump as much as our dogs do. We don't overdo it, because we know that there is such a thing as "too much of a good thing." Petting and cuddling are an important part of having dogs, but they should not be the only part, or even the biggest part.

My dogs don't slobber. They love to eat, but they do it very neatly (and on a schedule, of course). When they lick you, it's not sloppy. My dogs never have strings of drool hanging from their mouths.

Chihuahuas are smart, and catch on quickly. I used to think they were all nasty ankle-biters, but that was before I was a trainer. Who knew they just needed rules to follow, and proper socialization, just like "real dogs"? Now I do. And I spend a fair amount of time convincing non-trainer small-dog-owners of this, so that their dogs do not become nasty ankle-biters.

Some people laugh off the idea that small dogs are every "truly" aggressive. They giggle when Poopsie the tiny Shih-tzu challenges Thor, the passing 90-lb Lab mix, snarling and lunging on the leash. "Isn't that cute?! Look, Myrtle, at the tough little guy! Give 'em hell, little guy!"

This irks me. Small-dog owners are just as liable for their dogs' behavior as large-dog owners are. Just because Poopsie is small and cute does not excuse that rude behavior, and if Thor decides to stop showing restraint, Poopsie will be in a world of hurt, or dead, and any onlookers will be horrified at the carnage. And both dog owners will share the blame: Poopsie's, for not teaching her manners on a walk, and Thor's, for not properly restraining their dog.

But Thor's owners will probably be held accountable, while Poopsie's will not. As I am a small dog owner, you'd think this would make me happy, but I'm a dog professional, so it absolutely does not. All dogs need training, period. Dog owners who refuse to train, and who keep dogs that are aggressive to people and other animals--regardless of size--are irresponsible.

Training provides dogs--a social species--with a blueprint of how to fit into human society. Without this blueprint, dogs do not thrive. Seeing toy dogs stuffed into purses and strollers annoys me in several ways, but mostly because I know that those dogs are not able to truly be dogs.

My dogs sometimes roll in stinky stuff. They have great noses and they use them. They keep squirrels out of the yard with great pride. They know lots of basic commands, including "heel," and lots of tricks--most of which they will happily do with or without treats. They frolic in the grass, get dirty after it rains, chase and fetch, and in every other way act like dogs much bigger than they. As long as conditions are safe for them to be on the ground, they are.

Sure, there are drawbacks--besides the snickers. I have to watch out for birds of prey, people's clumsy feet, crowds, large dogs. The Chihuahuas cannot run or even walk as long as I might like to, because they get tired. Their limbs are more fragile, and they don't deal well with cold weather. They can get nervous if people shriek and run towards them or try to pick them up (why anyone would assume it's OK to pick up a dog without asking and hold it up to her face I'll never know). Most people don't try that stunt with German shepherds.

(In high school and college, I had a Doberman. She was a lovely dog with a wonderful temperament, despite the fact that she was not formally trained. When I'd walk her in public, people would yank their children up and over to the opposite side of the street as we approached, even though she walked nicely at heel and paid them no mind at all. Naturally, I was offended, because I knew she'd never hurt anyone, and I wasn't wise enough to know what I now now about cynophobia. At any rate, I solved the problem by outfitting her with a bright, colorful bandanna. The change in people's reactions was almost immediate: my "vicious" dog now garnered appreciative looks and compliments, and parents actually allowed their children to approach for petting.)

They may be small, but their hearts hold as much love as any big dog's, which is really the important part. They are bona fide canine companions, albeit in smaller, more efficient, longer-living, smaller pooping, no-slobber packages that make great bedtime heating pads on cold days.

Scoff if you wish, but maybe one day you will know the joys of a good lap dog.

A Letter to My Father

Dear Dad,

I wanted to write you because it's been a long time since I had, and because you like getting letters, and because I like writing them. You've been on my mind lately, more than usual.

I'd like to start with a few simple "thank yous," if that's OK. These are in no particular order.

Thank you for pursuing Mom. In today's world it would be stalking, no doubt about it. But she admits she didn't mind it (except maybe when you followed her to Europe when she went on that trip with her cousin; she said that was a bit weird). And you were 16 years her senior, and, well, her boss.

Yeah, creepy. But it ultimately brought me into the world, and I'm enjoying myself here.

Thank you for buying a house where you did. It was a stroke of genius, which I know you didn't know then. But the location is perfect, and the neighborhood that was great to grow up in, where I rode my bike and played football and threw frisbees and lost myself in the woods behind the house for hours on end really just keeps getting better. I am so glad that my brothers didn't have interest in this place when it was going to be sold. I love it here, and I always have, and it is because of you. The tree in the front yard is beyond magnificent.

Thank you for agreeing to the divorce. I know that sounds weird to say, but it really was the best thing that could have happened. While you may have had happy times for a while, by the time I left 8th grade it was all shot to hell. We all knew it. I know it wasn't easy for you to admit defeat, and I'm sure it didn't make much sense to you at the time, or afterwards. Unknowingly, you gave up your own happiness for mine and Mom's. It's what a good father does.

Because you were much older than my friend's fathers, I didn't really connect with you until I was an adult. As a child I found you stodgy, but as I grew I matured, and I paid attention.

Thank you for imbuing me with your love of literature and music. I admit that I didn't like your Big Band sound, and I thought the tapes you made for your friends where you DJ'd were dumb at the time (though they loved them). I did grow weary of hearing Tommy Dorsey, Stan Kenton, Glenn Miller, and Anita O'Day (and I still don't enjoy that sound), but, and you might not know this, I was listening to you love it.

And in between the sounds I disliked were some serious gems. I remember being in my room studying and hearing, for the first time, the throaty awesomeness of Nina Simone. I didn't think much of it until I watched the Bridget Fonda/Gabriel Byrne remake of "Le Femme Nikita" called "Point of No Return." When the first Nina song came on, I started. I recognized it! It gave me chills.

And though I had become interested in classical music really for the first time my freshman year in college (thank you, Music Appreciation 101, J.B. Golden, and Paula Williams), I recall lying in the bathtub at home, long after that class, and hearing the strains of Ennio Morricone's spectacular score for "The Mission" coming out of the speakers in the living room, and thinking, "Wow." You were thrilled when I asked you about it, and thereafter you'd call me excitedly whenever you had other scores (or symphonies) you thought I'd like.

Thank you for not pushing me to major in something I hated just so I would be more employable; I'm convinced my English degree and Education M.Ed. have helped me way more than an MBA would have. I know you were just happy I was going to college, and later I know you were proud that I am the only one of your children to finish college at all.

Thank you for giving me a good economic sense. It has been a huge asset, and I am grateful. My brothers did not get it, and they have still not learned from their mistakes.

Speaking of that, thank you for allowing me to make mistakes, though I never made huge ones. I was conservative enough with money to make good decisions early on. I'm not rich by any monetary means, but I support myself just fine, thanks to your wisdom.

Thank you for letting us have dogs. They all taught me so much, and shaped my life immeasurably.

Your "hands-off" discipline style meant that Mom was the one wielding the switch when I needed it. Some of my friends told stories of the spankings their dads gave them, but I could say, "my dad has never laid a hand on me." I'm not angry at Mom, mind you--I am so thankful she helped me understand that behaviors had consequences, and I learned quickly. Just the thought of disappointing either of you meant that I didn't get spanked much.

Of course, the validity of spanking is now a hot topic, and I'm glad I have no children of my own causing me to have to deal with it. I was not abused. I was disciplined as necessary. There is a difference.

My childhood was a good one, Dad. It wasn't all sunshine and ponies, but it was sturdy and caring compared to the childhoods of some people I am friends with now. Knowing what I now know about how much one's childhood affects the rest of one's life, I am eternally thankful for both you and Mom. I am who I am today because of how I was raised.

Thank you for living your values, and for teaching them to me, and not hiding behind fundamentalist religion to do it. I know you couldn't afford to send me to Catholic school for 9 years, and now I know why you sacrificed and did it anyway: it wasn't because you honestly believed it was a superior education. It was because of your sister, and I can forgive you for that. You loved her in spite of her "crazy" immersion into belief.

I know now that you were agnostic, but "going with the flow" and raising your children in the church of your youth was expected of you. Trust me when I say that knowledge buoys me on a consistent basis. I wondered about it for years, until one day I got it. I had long left the church by then, but never really understood why you had believed it in the first place. You were too intellectual for it, Dad. (Yeah, I hate it when the obvious hits you right smack in the face.)

You worked hard at a job you grew to hate to provide for us. You retired, then started working again because you needed the money. You took care of the things that needed to be taken care of at the expense of doing things you wanted to do. You did the best you could, always.

None of this was lost on me. As I age, I see so much of you in me, where before I thought we had little in common. In your own quiet way, you loved me no matter what. That is the greatest gift a parent can give a child.

Thank you for the sacrifices you made, including the sacrifices to our country during the war, and the stories that came from them. Do you remember that interview I did of you for my Journalism class, the one where I told your story of bailing out of a plane and ending up in a POW camp (with a really wild twist of fate), and I didn't reveal until the end that you were my dad? I got an "A" on it, and I still have it.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of how you have affected my life and helped me along the way. (Mom did, too; she deserves a ton of credit that I will get to later.) You showed me it was good to love learning, and reading, and reciting poetry; the pleasures of a good hammock, a good fire, and a good mixed drink; the way a musical piece can lift you into another world. I had loved the beauty of Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana" as a symphonic/choral piece for years, and disliked ballet, but when you took me to the ballet performance, I was dumbstruck. I'll never forget it. I still do not care for ballet, but "Carmina" is one I will see again.

I'll never be able to properly thank you, Dad. There's more, but this is enough for now. It's been a philosophical day for me, as this day has been for 16 years now.

I have one more thing to tell you, Dad, besides the fact that the movie "Meet Joe Black" (and its beautiful score by Thomas Newman) makes me sob uncontrollably because Anthony Hopkins' character is not really like you but makes me think of you; besides the fact that I listen to the 2nd movement of Brahm's "Requiem" on this day every year and end up curled in a crying fetal position the rest of the day; besides the fact that Elton John's "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" makes me stop the car and weep no matter where I am. As I drove home from the hospital after you quietly left, your body spent and unable to continue, I was remembering the sound of your respirator ceasing, and my aunt, Mom, and brothers crying, and the nurse leaving us to our grief. And that song came on the radio.

I love you, and I miss you more than I ever, ever thought I would. I've got so many more movies and scores and songs and books to share with you.

My life is one of happiness and promise, Dad, in many ways because of you. And I have only one real regret: I'm not sure that I told you how much I loved you before you were gone on July 26th, 1994, at the age of 72. I was 28, and we hadn't been "close" for a while. Three days before you went into the hospital complaining of stomach pains, we all gathered at Lee's and had a Father's day cookout. You gave me my birthday present, which I recall was a pair of shorts and a shirt from Sears that I might have worn when I was 15. I know I thanked you for it, and I knew secretly I'd never wear it, but how could you have known? The thought absolutely counted.

I remember parts of that day in stark detail, and the rest none at all. It was hot, of course. You and Lee probably argued. At some point I'm sure I wanted to be doing anything else. But the thing I cannot remember, and believe me, I've tried: did I tell you "I love you" that day? Did I? If not, why not? I could kick myself for not knowing that.

I'm pretty sure I told you in the hospital before your body started shutting down slowly and you went into the coma. Yes, I'm sure I did. We all thought you'd be coming home; pancreatitis is rarely fatal, the doctors all said. But the days passed, and you didn't get better; you got worse. Surely, at some point before you were no longer lucid, I told you.

I'm trying to make up for it by living my best life, and I think you'd be proud of me, still. For weeks after you died, I dreamt of you, and in every single dream I spent so much time telling you how special you were to me, and how much I appreciated you. I woke up crying every morning for weeks after your funeral.

Though I do not believe in the concept of an afterlife, in those dreams, time had reverted back to when you were alive, and you heard me.

Despite my regret, what I did in those dreams has to be enough. I love you, Dad.

"It doesn't matter who my father was, it matters who I remember he was."
~Anne Sexton

Should I Get My Dog A Dog?

There is a tongue-in-cheek suggestion often given to Women Who Do Too Much (you know, the ones ferrying the kids everywhere, planning meals, shopping, working, doing laundry, and multiple other tasks while trying not to stress out).

Their friends, co-workers, and even family will jokingly suggest, "You need to get yourself a wife."

For some reason, I thought of that joke as I was writing this. Let's look at this scenario (minus the ferrying, shopping, planning, doing laundry, etc.) from the perspective of the "average" dog owner.

Many people who only have one dog often feel guilty, and worry that they are depriving their pet by not having a playmate for him. I am often asked if they should get a second dog to keep their dog company, and my answer is “it depends.”

Dogs are indeed social animals, and most enjoy the company of other dogs in addition to humans. Their innate sociability is why they make such great companions for us, and why they are relatively easy to train. But are we depriving them if we only have one in our home?

Before you rush out to get Rover a pal, ask yourself the following questions, and consult a qualified trainer if you are not sure.

Is Rover 8-9 months or older? Raising one puppy is hard enough; don’t make it harder by adding another dog before Rover is housebroken, at least somewhat trained, and bonded with you. This is one reason out of many why most canine professionals agree that adopting 2 puppies together is a bad idea. And adding a “non-puppy” may not be much better; any age dog that is new to your home will still need training and time to settle in.

Is Rover obedience trained? If he isn’t, you will have a much harder time training 2 at once. And dogs learn from other dogs, but not usually good habits. So fix Rover first, for best results. Otherwise, you may end up with twice the trouble.

Are you getting Rover a pal because you don’t spend enough time with him? This is a common mistake people make, and what you end up with is two dogs you now do not have time for. Dogs may love each others’ company, but they typically love us more, and dogs don’t raise other dogs—people do. If sociable dogs had their pick between “another dog” and “more quality time with owner,” most would pick option 2. Seriously.

Does Rover really like other dogs? This sounds like a no-brainer, but you’d be surprised how many people have dogs who really have little interest in other dogs who rush out to get Fido a friend. Does Fido go to the dog park, or to daycare? If so, does he play well with others (as opposed to just tolerating them, or worse)? Maybe he likes certain kinds (and breeds or sizes) of dogs, but not others. Not every dog loves every other dog he meets. We don’t expect that of humans, so why do we expect it of dogs?

Being a social species does not mean that one likes every other member of the species; I'm sure you know this from, like, life (do YOU like everyone you meet? Humans are a social species...if you answered no, then why not?) You might be amazed at how many people are truly troubled that their dogs are simply nonchalant about playing with other dogs. They get very offended when they go somewhere with dogs and their dog prefers to hang out with the owners instead of running around with the other dogs. Of course, there are plenty of reasons why, but the bottom line is that those dogs, as long as they are not aggressive or overly stressed, are perfectly happy that way, and there is nothing wrong with them!

Is Rover "protective" of you? Maybe you've noticed that Rover gets "weird" when other dogs approach you in the dog park. Maybe your friend's dog was visiting once and Rover "didn't like it" when that dog would come over to you for petting or attention. Sometimes this is mild, like
pushing in between you and the other dog, as if to push the dog away from you, or trying to grab treats or toys before the other dog can take them from you. (Both of these are annoying, but if they are the extent of the possessiveness, and do not turn into growling or fighting, you can fix them fairly easily.)

But if Rover's possessiveness is stronger, such as he growls, snaps, or bites when the other dog is close; lunges at or attacks the dog when it moves into your space, or attacks the dog over resources like toys or food, Rover will need some behavioral intervention before you bring another dog home. If you can't get a handle on this problem with professional help, you shouldn't add a dog to your household, and if it is pronounced in public, you should be very cautious when taking him to off-leash spaces where you have less control.

Some dogs are fine with other dogs in public situations like dog parks and daycare, or even in homes that are not yours, but definitely will NOT tolerate another dog living in their space. Technically, it's your decision to whether you will have another dog, not your dog's--but if you are constantly having to correct and separate them, or worse, break up fights, why put yourself and the dogs through that? It's a stressful way to live for both humans and canines, and someone is going to be hurt.

If your dog blatantly tells you that he wants to be the only dog in your home, your responsibility is to him first and foremost. Ignoring his temperament in this aspect could be costly, dangerous, and emotionally devastating. Enjoy him for who he is, and if he likes other dogs in public, give him that outlet if you can do so safely.

Are you really ready for a second dog? You know he won’t be as easy as Rover was, don’t you? The law of averages says that if your first dog (or child) was easy to raise and train, the second one will be just the opposite. Are you prepared to do the work? Whether you get a young puppy or an adolescent or an adult, all dogs need to learn the rules of your home when they come into it. Prepare for a lot of work, and be thankful if it isn’t as hard as you expected.

Adding a second dog also adds costs, from food to travel plans, to how big of a car do you have, and do you have room for another crate?

Ultimately, getting a second dog is a personal decision that must not be made lightly. For most people, after training, having a second dog isn’t much harder than having one (though adding a third definitely ups the stakes). Being left alone is not as lonely for Fido  (once they have both earned the privilege to be loose in the home), and watching 2 dogs who like each other interact can be very enjoyable. Plus, you are helping a dog that needs a home. So, the positives are definitely there.

The best short answer to the titular question is this: don’t get a dog for your dog. Get a second dog for yourself when you are ready (after it has met and gets along with your dog, of course), and chances are the dogs will also benefit from the arrangement.

If you are going to take the plunge, here are some suggestions.

Try to choose a dog of the opposite sex, and if your dog is 2 or older, go younger (it doesn’t have to be a baby, though). Know your dog's personality and try to get a dog that won't clash with it. Ultimately, though, get the dog you want to have--the one you are best suited to raise and train and live with for the next 10-15 years. Consult a trainer to accompany you to the shelter or breeders' place if you are not sure; there are no guarantees, but someone with a good eye for what "getting along" looks like can be immensely helpful in this process.

Take your time and make the right decision; there's no need to rush.

Establish rules and structure right away for the new dog ('cuz your existing dog already has them in place, right?) and be prepared to feed separately for best results. Of course, the new dog needs his own crate.

NOTE: just because your Fido and new Rover got along at the shelter, don't expect pure, unfettered harmony at home--at first. Space is a dog's primary language, and when a new dog comes into an existing dog's territory, there is bound to be a little friction (especially if your house or yard are small). Let them drag leashes at the first meetup, and later in the home until you are sure they understand what's expected of them. Tight leashes promote frustration and reactivity.

In the above photo, what do you see? A happy greeting? Notice the raised tails, the raised hackles on both dogs, and the way the brown dog is hovering above the black dog. Without a dog-savvy adult nearby, this could have turned ugly. The obvious positives of the above situation: outdoors, with plenty of room to move; the dogs are not squared off, but perpendicular; the dog with the most potential for problems is dragging a leash. Just after this was taken, I called the brown dog and he turned towards me, breaking the "stalemate." The black dog was relieved and trotted off. I had a close eye on the brown dog after that; there were other dogs in the yard, and he was wary of all of them, but he was never given a chance to posture that way again due to sharp human intervention. After he calmed down, he even played a bit.

Harmony between dogs in the home is always easier with good, clear leadership. There will be less squabbling if you have made it clear that you will not put up with fighting. If you are having a problem, keep them separated for safety, and consult a trainer who will approach the problem from multiple angles if need be (not with force, and not with only treats).

Initial training is easier with fewest distractions, so any training you do should be one dog at a time for now. Crate the other dog while you work, then switch them. As they get better, use the other dog as a controlled distraction.

Having multiple dogs can be, and more often than not, is, a fantastic experience. Just don't rush into it, as it is a 15-year commitment, and make sure your dog would love the idea.

"Old age means realizing you will never own all the dogs you wanted to." ~~Joe Gores