Creative Play in Dogs

Hands off my monkey.

Imaginative Play

When I was a child I would carry my stuffed animals one by one from my room to the couch to form a plush welcoming committee for my parents’ guests.  I recently learned from Amy McCracken, the Executive Director at Richmond Animal League, that her beloved dog Burg does a similar thing with his stuffed animals, carting each one along if he moves from room to room....and it’s a lot of stuffed animals so he has to make several trips.

Like Burg, I always wanted a thing with me.  Never human (because they are nothing but trouble) but having traces of humanity.  I would glue eyeballs onto a scrub brush and pretend it was a living being, a member of a tiny species of human-like critters who cleaned under toenails and in hard-to-reach places.

There’s a young chimp named Kakama who was observed picking up a log, cradling it like a baby, fixing up a little pretend bed and tucking it in as any good mother would do for its log baby.  This makes more sense than a scrub brush and I lay no claim to having been a brighter kid than Kakama, but the idea is the same.  Kakama and I were pretending.

Is Burg pretending as he diligently keeps track of his stuffed animals?  Or are they

A simple game of rugby is always a favorite.

simply his possessions?  Are dogs just incredibly good self-marketers and Burg knew that this particular habit would be adorable to the point of being both “awwwww!” inspiring and newsworthy?The jury is out. 

Jason G. Goldman, in his blog The Thoughtful Animal on scientificamerican.com, considered the story by Sheril Kirshenbaum, http://www.cultureofscience.com/2011/09/06/do-dogs-play-make-believe/   whose dog Happy placed a plush frog up against his food bowl so that the toy looked like it was feeding time for stuffed amphibians.  Kirshenbaum explains that “The frog continues to sit like this (20 minutes later) as Happy arranges other toys nearby. Now I admit I may be anthropomorphizing, but her behavior sure reminds me of a child playing ‘make believe’ with stuffed animals.”

Shamelessly dismembered a
Cabbage Patch doll.

The ensuing comments support the idea that some of our fuzzy babies are treating themselves to unbearably adorable flights of fancy with stuffed animals...or pieces of stuffed animals, which indicates that like humans, dogs and cats are a fickle lot at times.

Creative Play
A bull terrier with a ball obsession can find countless ways to incorporate ball 

into her everyday life.  There is no vessel that is off limits: Sink, handbag, toilet, shoe, plate of food.  It’s one thing to fetch, to catch and roll a ball, another all together to line up a shot from the second floor balcony, pulling your 

doggie toe back slowly, eyeballing the angle and poke – tennis ball driven directly into my cupped hands below.  In another version she lay in wait patiently for minutes until my wheelchair-bound mom rolled herself into the sweet-spot under the dog’s second story lookout point.  With a toy clenched between her teeth, she opens her mouth and smack, a rubber bone directly to my mother's noggin, eliciting both curses and laughter from her hapless victim.  Wheelchair or not, the dog knew that woman was hard-headed.  Or placing the ball on the floor or coffee table and pushing it with your nose in a canine mockery of ping pong or air hockey.  Catch with mouth, push with nose, score and run

gloating up the stairs, stealing the game ball and basking in your athletic prowesswhile I wipe drool off my hands in defeat.  And when no one is there to play with, the stairs will do fine.  The ball bounces down only to be quickly snatched up, and off again she runs to the top to repeat this grueling game of solo-fetch.  Each game she created on her own.  Each used a different strategy and method of propelling the ball.  My dog really is smarter than your honor student.  Meanwhile we more “advanced” beings are tucking logs and scrub brushes into makeshift beds.  To each his own.

Dreams

Kiko & Daisy, talented nappers, take their positions.

Most people agree that dogs dream.  The Pedigree.com article Do Dogs Dream? (author unnamed) suggests they dream much as we do, about their regular activities: eating, running, playing.  If they dream of Electric Sheep or Blue Turtles they spare us the details, unlike their human counterparts, who regale us with every detail of their dreams with the mistaken idea that one's existential angst shrouded in obscure metaphor is scintillating for the listener. 

Jeremy keeps busy in his dreams.

In a study done on rats, Goldman states that the rodents' brain activity while they slept and dreamed matched that of their waking brain activity.  It is presumed they were reliving their work running a maze in their dreams (much like corporate America). 

Perhaps the funny little noises your dog makes in his sleep; the pumping legs, the rolled back eyes and spastic paw movements, are his dream's physical manifestations of the fabulous day you both had together.  Such better time spent in sleep than reliving anxiety from the office or showing up naked for final exams or eating your own teeth.  

Gracie (Impawsible Pups, Richmond, VA) 
is a dog's best friend.

Imaginary Friends

To date there seems to be no hard evidence that dogs create imaginary friends. At Who Rescued Who? we hope for a day when every dog has a home, each paired with a loving family or individual.  Then there would be no need to create imaginary friends of any species, because he who has a friend in dog, has a friend indeed.  

-Kiki Nusbaumer

Links:

http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20130207-can-animals-imagine

http://blogs.scientificamerican.com/thoughtful-animal/2011/09/07/animal-imagination-the-dog-that-pretended-to-feed-a-frog-and-other-tales/

http://www.pedigree.com/all-things-dog/article-library/do-dogs-dream.aspx

A Beagle Named Cash by Brianna Merrill

Blaze and Cash

It’s a cold day outside, and the sunlight shining through the window is welcomed warmth. It’s just before noon and I am only now lying down in my bed, I’m exhausted. It was a long night at the hospital and an even longer and draining past 4 days.  I rotate onto my shoulder so I can see my 10 year old son clearly. He’s lying on a make-shift bed on the floor of my bedroom because he can’t be alone, not right now; we have to watch him all the time. He’s in pain, like usual, and he’s weak but he’s home and that’s where he likes to be, he hates hospitals and Dr’s offices and I don’t blame him, he’s been there way too many times in his life. The events of the past few days begin flooding my mind and I have to look away so he doesn’t see my tears, the knowledge of the high maintenance care my son is going to need from me these next  few months is overwhelming, physically, mentally and emotionally.

The humble beagle is known for its gentle spirit.
Cash's nurturing nature and empathy have healing properties.

Just as I think I may lose control and sob I see Cash, our 9 year old beagle waiting in the doorway. This is the one room in the house he’s not permitted to enter freely and he knows it, but he also has a sixth sense and knows when he’s needed.  I nod my head and wave my hand beckoning him in and he immediately comes to my bedside.  He tilts his head up and lays it against my mattress; he’s not quite tall enough so all that’s visible to me is the tip of his nose. I throw my hand over the side of the bed and rub his head a few times to let him know I’m okay.  As soon as he gets my reassuring pats he turns his attention to my son, he knows this is who really needs him and he also knows this is where I want him to focus his attention.  My son sleepily lifts his arm and Cash positions himself beneath it and then lies down beside him.  My 10 year old begins methodically stroking Cash’s fur and I can see the physical change happen. My son’s shoulders relax, the tightness and scrunching of his face releases and he begins to breathe deeply, he’s able to block out the pain and instead is feeling peaceful and I am grateful. 

Easing the pain.

It’s hard for me to imagine life without Cash’s calming presence in my home. We’ve only had him for 11 months but the way he fits into our family makes it feel like we have been lifelong friends.  I remember I had my doubts when we visited Richmond Animal League almost a year ago. Our neighborhood friend had just adopted a sweet and beautiful beagle from  RAL and it only took a few visits with my kids at the bus stop for them to be smitten. It also reminded me just how sweet natured this particular breed was. Unlike my children I grew up with dogs, usually two sometimes three. They were always adopted or a rescue my parents had helped with so I knew that if we ever got a dog we would adopt, but so far our life just didn’t seem to have room for anything more. My husband and I have five children ages 5 to 11 so to say we are plenty busy is an understatement. My two oldest had been asking for a dog since they could say the word but it was just too overwhelming to think of taking on more responsibility in those early years of raising our family. Even now with them barley reaching an age of genuine responsibility and accountability I kept asking myself if I truly wanted the burden of a family dog. But I could not ignore the nagging feeling that it was time to consider adopting a dog and our interactions with the friendly little beagle down the street only confirmed it.

We went to RAL and upon arrival my only request was that we not be shown any puppies. 

Amy McCRacken and Cricket (From the
RAL Website). Amy is the Executive Director
of RAL and knows firsthand about being
rescued by a rescue dog.

I knew the cuteness factor would cloud the kid’s judgment and who are we kidding, mine as well.  I also requested to first see their beagles. We were shown a few and even took one very anxious hound mix for a short walk. Then we were brought to see one beagle named Johnny Cash. The volunteer opened up his kennel and pulled him out declaring that he was one of her favorites. All I saw was the tag on his door declaring him to be nine years old, positive for heart worm and currently undergoing treatment for pneumonia. On top of that if I were to rank him on the cute scale he was less than a 5 for sure. Not that being cute was a major factor in our decision but when a dog looks as homely as he did at that time all I see is dollar signs in terms of healthcare and I had the list of ailments as evidence. But with some gentle persuasion the volunteer brought him and us out to the yard. It may not have been love at first sight with Cash but it was certainly love at first touch. He was an old and tender soul and he instinctively knew exactly how to interact with my kids. His temperament was amazing and by the time we were done it was hard to say goodbye.

www.ral.org

We went home with plans to think it over and have a family council to determine if we all understood what would be required of everyone. When it came time to decide which dog we wanted to adopt it was a unanimous vote for the homely and medically complicated dog. Johnny Cash had stolen our hearts and felt like the perfect fit which seemed odd given all the issues and what it was going to take to overcome them. I had wanted to avoid excess chaos, didn’t I?  Against any worries I was developing we put in our papers to adopt Mr. Cash, but over the next four weeks he would need to remain at RAL and finish his pneumonia treatment and then begin his heart worm treatment. We were starting our journey down the adoption trail on fairly rocky terrain as there was no guarantee Johhny Cash would survive the treatments due to his age and possible complications from his recent battle with pneumonia. During his heart worm treatment I would visit the shelter as many days as possible just to hold and comfort him and whisper that we would not leave him there much longer. It became torture to visit and hold his frail little body just to put him back in the kennel with only a promise of returning the next day.  But it was during these consecutive one on one visits I made to RAL when I began to see more of what made him so special. Before we ever brought him home I was looking into therapy dog programs and the requirements to certify him. There was a quiet energy he carried and compassion seemed to be his middle name. I knew he could do great things for not only our family but others as well.

Now here we are almost 11 months later and he has far exceeded my earliest expectations.  He has proven himself to be a devoted and tender companion for each person in the family, especially my oldest son who battles an incurable disease. There is little therapy and relief for his unique illness and before Cash came into our lives I often just had to hold my son and tell him things would be okay and the pain would go away, knowing my words were of little help. Now Cash holds him close to his body with matched breathing and helps him forget the pain until it passes. He does the same for some of the elderly we visit in assisted living facilities. He gently places his paws in their laps and raises his nose to theirs and in those moments he brings a temporary relief from the emotional pain and loneliness many of the resident’s experience. Many tears of joy have been shed as we make our scheduled visits always ending with promises to return because of the palpable love and tenderness he brings with him.

This last fall I thought we’d have to break those promises when Cash was bitten by a

A copperhead snake.

copperhead snake. We had been enjoying the last few hours of the day playing with the kids outside when Cash and I retired to the hammock, a favorite spot of ours when the weather permits.  As dusk approached I began mustering the strength to get up and call it a day when Cash raised his head from off my chest and with a growl leaped from the hammock. He has never growled, he doesn’t even bark so I knew something was wrong. As soon as I turned my head and body over to see what caused such an unusual reaction I saw Cash struck in the face by a large copperhead just 2 feet from my own head. The following moments were sheer panic. My husband drove us to the nearest emergency vet while I held him and just cried, terrified he wouldn’t make it as his breathing became more labored and he struggled to get air through his grotesquely swollen snout and throat. By the time we got there only 15 minutes from the time he was bitten his entire body was swollen beyond recognition and he was gasping for breath. I felt so guilty, I knew he was protecting me in that moment he jumped down off the hammock and seeing his swollen body I knew it could have so easily been mine. I whispered again for him to hold on, he had so much more to offer, so much more to do, more people who needed him and most of all we needed him. He had proven to be a fighter once before and I begged him to do it again. Well he didn’t disappoint and pulled through just like we prayed he would. Only three weeks later he was back to doing what he does best, helping people. With him fully recovered we went on a camping trip with friends where he managed to help a young boy overcome his extreme fear of dogs. Our friend who could hardly look at a dog without screaming in fear ended the 2 day trip, walking, feeding, petting and hugging Cash with a vow and a new found excitement  to do it all again next  year.  Cash was his new “best friend”.

Cash, right where he belongs.

They’re asleep now, Cash and my son, and as I look over the two of them I am so grateful not only for our sweet dog’s larger acts of devotion and sacrifice but all of the small ones he manages to accomplish every day.  The laughter he brings when the kids command him to “be cute” and he drops his face to the floor while wagging his butt in the air. Or the squeals of excitement when he finds the kids hiding spot during their unique version of hide and seek which is formatted to include Cash. Some days he’s the exact remedy I need to help get all five kids in the car to go to school. Usually someone has complaints about not wanting to go but as soon as I open the front door Cash rushes out to the car, excited and anxious to go for a ride. Tears and “I don’t want to’s” are immediately forgotten as everyone wants the coveted seat beside Cash. Even in the winter months when it’s cold and he rolls down the car window to stick his head out, we can’t help but laugh through our chattering teeth at him as my five year old exclaims “silly Cash!” It’s when he knows I’m over whelmed or annoyed and instead of leaving me alone or avoiding me he bugs me all the more until I pause and return the affection he is giving me. He puts his face next to mine, looks me directly in the eye and just like that, my crazed pace slows and he reminds me to take it easy and stop and smell the roses, or sometimes stop and smell every single mailbox along our walking route and then my daughters words “silly Cash” echo through my mind. During the day when the house is quiet and the kids are in school he is my shadow and even when he is in mid slumber if I leave the room he immediately wakes and follows without any command or noise from me. Yes it’s the little moments when he truly shines, little moments like now as he cuddles up against my sick boy. It’s a cold day outside but it’s warm here beside Cash, it’s warm here because of him.

Seeking the Perfect Diet for Your Dog

Here at the offices of Who Rescued Who?® we are beginning the confusing, hazardous, fraught-with-danger journey of trying to develop a dog food.  Our focus is on rescue dogs and their special nutritional needs.  All dogs are different, some with allergies and sensitivities, but our experience with dogs rescued from homelessness presents us with something more than just a big windmill at which to shake our lance.  Malnutrition from abuse, neglect or homelessness is our white whale.  All the while we search desperately for a 12 step group to help us with these overburdened and mixed literary allusions.

Lady Stetson was a mess when Diamonds In the Ruff
rescued her (photo by Stephanie Capps).

My personal experience adopting two pit mixes with skin conditions inspires me.  The stress of homelessness and even the shelter, as loving and warm as it may be, is often an insurmountable barrier to alleviating irritating skin problems.  These maladies magically disappeared once my dogs were in their forever home, finally secure and relaxed.  But what of the pup who languishes in the shelter for months or years?  Can a dog food help?  

I remember sitting at a table in Tucson, AZ some years ago and my lovely host telling me, as our pups frolicked in her desert-landscaped backyard, that the food I was feeding my darling adopted children was made with the rubber from car tires.  Like my diet at the time, which consisted of a great deal of

Tires taste bad and are not nutritious.

generic cheese puffs and cola, I had been purchasing inexpensive food for Joey and Elli because I was A) Broke and 2) Young, lacking knowledge, and trusting in dog food manufacturers.  It was the kibble equivalent of cheese puffs, I decided, and cheese puffs are of dubious origins and seem to skirt the lines of being actually edible.  I was clearly too young to have hairy children.

Her words resonated with me and I immediately switched their food to a more expensive brand that made a lot of claims that were hard to resist.  I noticed an improvement in the sheen of their fur fairly quickly and stuck with that brand for many years. 

My dogs lived until they were 14 years old, which seems to be the average; much too short but full of joy.  On the other hand, my family had a standard poodle in the seventies that ate the cheapest brand dog food available and supplemented it on her own with garbage, poo and yard trimmings she’d find when she escaped from our yard.  She’d feign deafness and run several yards ahead of us screaming kids in frantic pursuit as she ran along plucking little goodies from the neighbors’ yards and garbage cans and rolling in the leavings of other animals until her poodle curls glistened with an olfactory buffet of unspeakable horror, until we finally caught up with her.  She lived until the ripe (I use that term intentionally) old age of 18.  

Today as I peruse the internet I am more confused than ever.  The websites contradict one another.  Two articles were particularly striking and seemed reasonable:  The Dog Food Project (www.betterdogcare.com), written by Sabine Contreras, a canine care and nutrition consultant, and the Wysong website (www.wysong.net), written by R. Wysong, DVM.  Dr. Wysong is selling pet products and thus is motivated to steer you toward his own philosophies, but as I read through the article The Pet Food Ingredient Game, the information seems sensible.  The two authors disagree in their philosophies regarding non-human grade ingredients such as roadkill and 4D ingredients (just learned this nugget: 4D meaning dead, dying, downed or diseased).  It may seem like a trivial concern, and selfish, but my mind went straight to the fact that I have a super kissy pit bull and I just don’t want those things in her mouth.

Puerto Rican strays on the beach.  Some were so
malnourished it was hard to determine their breed.

Dr. Wysong reminds us of our dogs’ roots; running wild, hunting and scavenging, ingesting “prey, carrion and incidental fresh plant materials and even some fur and feathers.”  Meat that is not human grade, according to Wysong, is not necessarily lacking in nutrition.  It may be gross, but it’s healthy.  He reasonably states that a variety of fresh, whole natural foods for a carnivore is ideal, as well as fresh air, clean water, exercise and a whole lotta love.  Sound advice.

Contreras points out that dogs don’t live that way anymore and that in the wild they had the option of eating a whole chunk of carrion; nutritious bits and not-so-good bits like feet (or cheese powder) and that the key is investigating whether the ingredient called chicken has nutritional value or is just a ground-up beak.  She states that dogs live longer and suffer from fewer health problems in their domesticated environments in which we do the hunting and gathering at the pet store.

Turbo thinks a whole lotta love is the best ingredient.

Ultimately their points of view aligned.  Rationality and reason must steer us as we choose a dog food for our companions.  Variety seems to be key, supplementing kibble with fresh, natural, truly human grade ingredients (not to be confused with Soylent Green) can make up for any nutrients your base food may lack.  Be wary of trendy, hyped ingredients and fads.  Research.  When in doubt, call the manufacturer.

Kiki Nusbaumer

Who Rescued Who?®