The plumber did it. After three weeks being almost mute, one sight of the little white van outside our gates was all it took for our adopted dog Lou to join Blanche, our Great Pyrenees, in alerting us to the threat - or workmen, as we call them. The voice is mid-range, a little rusty and hoarse, and music to our ears. It means that Lou knows he's home, not just on holiday. Having found his voice, he showed us the full range when a police siren passed by. Some dogs respond to the siren tone by howling and we now have two of them who throw their heads back and audition for 'The Jungle Book'.
Another sign that Lou is settling in is that he sometimes prefers to lie peacefully in the hall in the evening rather than watch gruesome murders and CSI investigations; each to his own. Choosing his place, distancing himself a little from us now and then shows confidence, and there's no lack of attention to us all day. So where have we got to with our adoption?
Neither condition has stopped him bouncing through life like Tigger but I'm hoping to clear up both. It's part of the settling-in period to face whatever health problems my new dog brings with him.
The experts all disagree about neutering male dogs. Vets and many behavioural trainers want male pet dogs neutered; they say it prevents unwanted puppies (true) and unwanted behaviour (debatable). Breeders and some dog-trainers are against neutering male pet dogs unless there are medical grounds; they say neutering can change the dog's character and even induce unwanted behaviour (debatable), and there are other ways of preventing sexual activity. I don't know what's best for other people but I'm happy with full-blooded males, including dogs. I've never had a dog trying to mount the furniture or me (thank God, given that my last male, a Great Pyrenees, weighed in at 70kg) and I'm convinced that such behaviour is about dominance not about sex, so requires training, not a surgeon's knife. Dogs are not people and if there's no scent of bitch-on- heat, there are no sexual fantasies.
All the experts agree that neutering a female has big health advantages. The disagreements are about when to neuter. Vets advise, 'early'; breeders advise, 'after the first season'. Having made our personal choice with Blanche, which was to trust the vet who would have to perform the surgery, we felt comfortable leaving Lou entire. If we had decided otherwise, or been so compelled by the shelter, we'd have had the complication of convalescence to add to the settling-down period of an adopted dog - not something I'd have enjoyed.
I'm lucky in being able to afford the time and the money required. I'm also lucky in that Lou accepts handling from me and from the vet but I have had a dog who wanted to kill vets. He had good reasons for this but that didn't help me at all with 70kg of angry dog and a vet who didn't want anything to do with him - also understandable. What did help me was a) the training I'd done with him since puppyhood so he did accept me handling him and b) a Shellclip muzzle. So I dealt with it. Better than that, thanks to a co-operative vet, we gradually brought back my dog's willingness to be touched by a stranger.
However, I wonder whether I could handle 70kg of adopted dog, who hadn't known me from puppyhood, who wouldn't let me touch him and who hated vets. There are plenty such dogs in shelters. If I fell in love with a giant shelter dog who was really difficult to handle, would I cope? Loving giant dogs as I do, this is a consideration if I adopt again in the future. Maybe starting with a puppy would be wiser if I choose a giant breed? Or at least choosing a dog I can literally handle, like Lou in temperament.
In my part of France, vets are not like they were in the UK. The dog's behaviour is my responsibility. If the vet can't get the vaccine up the dog's nose because the mutt is behaving like a kangaroo, I'm given the phial in a little take-away bag to 'do at home when she's calmer'. This involves sneaking up on said mutt when she's asleep and assaulting her like the Pink Panther's manservant, trying to inject her nose. It is not easy! And I miss the Welsh vet, who brought in a vet's nurse and a fellow-vet to assist in pinning 50kg of dog to the floor while stitches were removed. In Wales, vets' nurses were part of the team. Here, with Blanche, it's just me, the vet and a kangaroo. And while Lou might be perfect during treatment, he has expressed how he really feels by cocking a leg on the way out of the pristine consultation room.Maybe keeping him entire has its drawbacks after all.
“Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young.” Henry Ford
This goes for dogs too and you can teach an old dog new tricks. Lou is seven years old, has spent the last two years in a shelter cage and he is a great student. Of course it is possible that he was winning Crufts obedience trials in the five years before he was dumped by a divorcing couple but somehow I doubt it. I don't doubt that he could win obedience trials with the right training but that's not what I do. In formal training, this is what I do with my dogs:-
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| Lou's story |
Health Costs
It doesn't matter whether a dog is seven years or seven months, the outlay on vet's bills is an expensive lottery. Big dogs cost more and living in a shelter does no favours for a dog's health. So far we've spent 140 euros to get Lou from the shelter; and a further 200 euros on three visits to the vet and medication. The routine medication includes worm tablets, 6 months' flea and tick treatment (our region of France is tick-infested), and a solution for rinsing ears. The non-routine medication has been for an ear infection (complicated by an insect sting) and for a cough.Neither condition has stopped him bouncing through life like Tigger but I'm hoping to clear up both. It's part of the settling-in period to face whatever health problems my new dog brings with him.
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| Lou laying low in one of the holes the dogs have dug |
The unkindest cut - whether to neuter or not
Most shelters require a new owner to neuter an entire dog as a practical measure to prevent unwanted puppies (likely to become the next generation of inmates). We had Blanche sterilised young, to minimise her risk of mammary cancer and because we didn't want to breed from her. We have a fenced garden and haven't had a problem with dogs escaping so, when the shelter left us the choice, we left Lou's bits entire.The experts all disagree about neutering male dogs. Vets and many behavioural trainers want male pet dogs neutered; they say it prevents unwanted puppies (true) and unwanted behaviour (debatable). Breeders and some dog-trainers are against neutering male pet dogs unless there are medical grounds; they say neutering can change the dog's character and even induce unwanted behaviour (debatable), and there are other ways of preventing sexual activity. I don't know what's best for other people but I'm happy with full-blooded males, including dogs. I've never had a dog trying to mount the furniture or me (thank God, given that my last male, a Great Pyrenees, weighed in at 70kg) and I'm convinced that such behaviour is about dominance not about sex, so requires training, not a surgeon's knife. Dogs are not people and if there's no scent of bitch-on- heat, there are no sexual fantasies.
All the experts agree that neutering a female has big health advantages. The disagreements are about when to neuter. Vets advise, 'early'; breeders advise, 'after the first season'. Having made our personal choice with Blanche, which was to trust the vet who would have to perform the surgery, we felt comfortable leaving Lou entire. If we had decided otherwise, or been so compelled by the shelter, we'd have had the complication of convalescence to add to the settling-down period of an adopted dog - not something I'd have enjoyed.
I'm lucky in being able to afford the time and the money required. I'm also lucky in that Lou accepts handling from me and from the vet but I have had a dog who wanted to kill vets. He had good reasons for this but that didn't help me at all with 70kg of angry dog and a vet who didn't want anything to do with him - also understandable. What did help me was a) the training I'd done with him since puppyhood so he did accept me handling him and b) a Shellclip muzzle. So I dealt with it. Better than that, thanks to a co-operative vet, we gradually brought back my dog's willingness to be touched by a stranger.
However, I wonder whether I could handle 70kg of adopted dog, who hadn't known me from puppyhood, who wouldn't let me touch him and who hated vets. There are plenty such dogs in shelters. If I fell in love with a giant shelter dog who was really difficult to handle, would I cope? Loving giant dogs as I do, this is a consideration if I adopt again in the future. Maybe starting with a puppy would be wiser if I choose a giant breed? Or at least choosing a dog I can literally handle, like Lou in temperament.
In my part of France, vets are not like they were in the UK. The dog's behaviour is my responsibility. If the vet can't get the vaccine up the dog's nose because the mutt is behaving like a kangaroo, I'm given the phial in a little take-away bag to 'do at home when she's calmer'. This involves sneaking up on said mutt when she's asleep and assaulting her like the Pink Panther's manservant, trying to inject her nose. It is not easy! And I miss the Welsh vet, who brought in a vet's nurse and a fellow-vet to assist in pinning 50kg of dog to the floor while stitches were removed. In Wales, vets' nurses were part of the team. Here, with Blanche, it's just me, the vet and a kangaroo. And while Lou might be perfect during treatment, he has expressed how he really feels by cocking a leg on the way out of the pristine consultation room.Maybe keeping him entire has its drawbacks after all.
An old dog learns new tricks
“Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young.” Henry Ford
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| Perfect recall |
This goes for dogs too and you can teach an old dog new tricks. Lou is seven years old, has spent the last two years in a shelter cage and he is a great student. Of course it is possible that he was winning Crufts obedience trials in the five years before he was dumped by a divorcing couple but somehow I doubt it. I don't doubt that he could win obedience trials with the right training but that's not what I do. In formal training, this is what I do with my dogs:-
The 5 Pillars of Dog Wisdom:-
Leadwork, Recall, Downstay, Turn-taking and Aperitifs
Sarcasm aside, I'm sure that Lou did have plenty of people-experience and some training when he lived with his previous family but whatever commands were used were definitely in French and ex-Balou has switched language as easily as changing his name. He reads body language, listens to the tone of voice and uses his knowledge of how people behave to figure out he's expected to jump in the car, go outside for a pee or come into the house.
From the way he behaves now, my guess is that Lou used to come when called. It's possible that he walked nicely on a lead but if so he lost the habit in the shelter and has regained it. He was definitely never taught a long downstay but one long, determined (on both our parts!) formal session taught him and he will now lie down for half an hour or more when he is told, where he is told, until he is released from the command. Thank you, Michel Hasbrouck for training me! These three pillars of training will let me take Lou into the market, out to friends' houses, for a coffee in the village ... in a word, freedom. That is the essential paradox of dog-training and of my life too; self-control (the dog's, and mine) gives greater freedom.
You'll have noticed five tenets in the training sub-heading, not just the big three. That's because Lou added two more. Turn-taking was entirely Lou's idea and started with his enthusiasm for doing a 'sit' (something that's fun but not important to me). Once a day, Blanche sits on command, waits and, when given the OK (literally, as that's our release word) chases after a Dentastix, then plays cat-and-mouse with it before eating it. I wanted both of them to have their Dentastix and Blanche still to have her fun so I just hung on to Lou's collar to stop him going after Blanche's chew. He didn't just wait patiently; he sat, watched and moved when told 'OK'. So the next day, I told them both to sit - two bums hit the ground. I released Blanche; Lou waited, still sitting. I gave him the OK, throwing his Dentastix at the same time and he was off like a bullet. That is now our routine and I am so proud of him for training me so well.
And then there's the aperitifs. As we live in Provence, we have thedaily occasional aperitif. Since Blanche was a puppy, she and her then partner-in-crime were in the habit of rushing to the kitchen on the magic word 'Aperos!' where they received ice cubes from the big American fridge. The first time the call 'Aperos' went out, Lou rushed to the kitchen with Blanche, only to be sadly disappointed at getting an ice-cube, which he spat on the floor. However, convinced that anything the big blonde likes has to be worth trying, he has now become addicted to crunching up aperos and is first there at the very sound of a Martini being poured. Speaking of which, I think it's time... 'APEROS!'
From the way he behaves now, my guess is that Lou used to come when called. It's possible that he walked nicely on a lead but if so he lost the habit in the shelter and has regained it. He was definitely never taught a long downstay but one long, determined (on both our parts!) formal session taught him and he will now lie down for half an hour or more when he is told, where he is told, until he is released from the command. Thank you, Michel Hasbrouck for training me! These three pillars of training will let me take Lou into the market, out to friends' houses, for a coffee in the village ... in a word, freedom. That is the essential paradox of dog-training and of my life too; self-control (the dog's, and mine) gives greater freedom.
You'll have noticed five tenets in the training sub-heading, not just the big three. That's because Lou added two more. Turn-taking was entirely Lou's idea and started with his enthusiasm for doing a 'sit' (something that's fun but not important to me). Once a day, Blanche sits on command, waits and, when given the OK (literally, as that's our release word) chases after a Dentastix, then plays cat-and-mouse with it before eating it. I wanted both of them to have their Dentastix and Blanche still to have her fun so I just hung on to Lou's collar to stop him going after Blanche's chew. He didn't just wait patiently; he sat, watched and moved when told 'OK'. So the next day, I told them both to sit - two bums hit the ground. I released Blanche; Lou waited, still sitting. I gave him the OK, throwing his Dentastix at the same time and he was off like a bullet. That is now our routine and I am so proud of him for training me so well.
And then there's the aperitifs. As we live in Provence, we have the
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| Blanche on a mission |
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| Lou |
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