During the winter of 2008, my Shepherd/Lab mix, Ginger, began to experience bouts of diarrhea which I attributed to a change I had made in her diet. I went back to her old food, but the diarrhea persisted with accidents in the house – something that hadn’t happened since she was a puppy. I brought her to the vet, and she was put on antibiotics as the vet felt that perhaps the original bout of diarrhea had upset the natural balance of bacteria in her bowel. It seemed to work for a few weeks. By spring, I was alarmed by the sheer volume of poop in the yard as the snow melted and noticed that Ginger was losing weight very quickly. She began to do things that were very out of character for her – namely stealing food off the counters and getting into the garbage can with a little help from one of the cats. I brought her back to the vet clinic and the vet I saw that day – the clinic owner – thought it was wonderful she had lost 15 pounds in two months with no change in activity, persistent foul smelling diarrhea and an out of control appetite! I felt I had no where to turn. The first vet we saw during the winter mentioned a rare disorder that affected Shepherds, but said it was so rare and with Ginger being a mix breed it would be the last thing she would consider.

I got online and found an article from the University of Prince Edward Island’s Veterinary School about Exocrine Pancreatic Insufficiency – EPI. Most of us are quite familiar with the endocrine function of the pancreas – it produces insulin that it releases into the bloodstream that allows the cells of the body to use glucose. Lack of insulin causes diabetes. EPI is not diabetes. The pancreas also secretes digestive enzymes that it releases into the digestive tract. These digestive enzymes break down starches, fats and protein & without them, anything ingested simply goes roaring through the digestive tract undigested causing foul smelling diarrhea that actually looks oily from the undigested fat. Without pancreatic enzymes, a dog, cat or human would simply die of starvation no matter how much food they consumed.

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This story was sent in by a reader. Lisa Warden is the Canadian woman who saved Pete in India. Before Pete she had rescued and adopted a paralyzed dog that got hit by a car and left to die. Tragically, Piccolo died a few weeks ago and this is a tribute she wrote about him and her grief and how to try to move on.

Lisa’s story:

To my friends around the globe who love dogs and know how much they mean to me…

Pickles, formally known as Piccolo Pachiavelli Chatterjee del Jagatpur, passed away very unexpectedly on May 20, 2010, at our home in Ahmedabad.

I saw him first in the spring of 2009, lying on the road in the hot, dusty, village of Jagatpur outside Ahmedabad. In fact, what I thought I was looking at was a dead dog, lying as he was in a crumpled, emaciated, twisted heap. As fate would have it, I had to pass through the village on a regular basis to get to a class I was attending. The next day, I saw the carcass again, but further down the road. I thought some dogs had dragged it down there to eat it.

On my way through Jagatpur the following week, I came across a scrawny puppy near the village tea stall. I asked the driver to stop so I could feed him some biscuits. As I was doing so, I heard a dragging sound off to my right. I looked up and couldn’t believe it. It was the crumpled canine heap I had taken for dead, straining to pull himself over to me — or, rather, to the biscuits I was feeding the pup. I could see that he had been run over. His back was broken, as were his hind legs. He was bone-jarringly thin and caked all over with mud and filth. I was shocked to see a creature in such a condition. The top sides of his back legs were raw and bloody. They had no skin left on them as a result of dragging himself around. I couldn’t believe he was still alive, let alone able to make it over to me. He devoured the biscuits and whatever else edible I could find in the car.

For the next two weeks I brought him a full meal each time I passed through Jagatpur. “Crumplestiltskin”, as I initially called him, didn’t seem to be friendly. It wasn’t that he was aggressive towards me — it’s just that he didn’t display any overt signs of warmth or appreciation, other than scarfing down the food I brought him as quickly and desperately as possible.

When my class was finished, I was terribly worried about what would become of Crumplestiltskin. How would he possibly survive? We had just moved out of a hotel in the city and into a house with a big walled garden. I decided that if he would let me pick him up and put him in the car without biting me, I would bring him home to our garden and give him somewhere comfortable to live — or die — with dignity. I would have the vet examine him; she could euthanize him there if she decided there was no hope for him.

My heart was pounding on d-day as I approached Jagatpur. First of all, I didn’t know if Crumplestiltskin would allow me to pick him up and put him in the vehicle. Secondly, I knew I would have to do it fast. Unusually for India, the locals had not exactly been friendly during the previous two weeks whenever I stopped to feed the dog. Remarkable only for its bleakness, the village appeared deserted until I showed up. Then, out of nowhere the villagers would instantly emerge and converge, forming an intimidating circle around me while I fed the dog. They were pushy and curious in an aggressive, almost hostile manner. It didn’t feel good. My plan felt like some kind of commando hostage rescue operation. I prayed my socks off all the way there and choreographed the whole thing in advance with the driver. We rehearsed in our heads: stop, jump out, driver opens back door, I grab dog. If dog bites me or tries too hard to fight, we abort the mission. If he doesn’t, I throw him in the vehicle, driver slams door, we jump back in the van and wheel it out of there.

Amazingly and miraculously, it all went according to plan. When we got to Jagatpur, Crumplestiltskin was waiting for us in his usual spot down from the tea stall. We pulled over, jumped out of the van, and moved into position. I went straight to the dog, took a deep breath, and took him by the scruff with my left hand. To my immense and immediate relief, he looked at me with his deep, dark, beautiful eyes and offered not a shred of resistance. I then scooped up his hind end with my other arm, walked over to the van, and placed him on the quilt in the back of the car. The driver shut the door, we hopped backed in, and tore out of there before anyone knew what was going on. Wow, mission accomplished. Spent adrenaline flooded my veins and made me wobbly.

When I got Crumplestiltskin home, I put a folded quilt out in the shade in the garden on which I placed his emaciated body. He collapsed into an exhausted, relieved sleep.

Over the next two days I realized it was not that Crumplestiltskin was unfriendly; it was just that he hadn’t a shred of strength left with which to do anything other than cling to life. The vet advised deworming, feeding and rest. As for the prognosis, we would just have to wait and see. What I also began to learn shortly after getting him home was that in this crumpled, broken heap of a skeletal dog was a well of love, devotion, gratitude and personality the depths of which I would be lucky ever to experience again.

As for his name, we knew “Crumplestiltskin” was only temporary. We were committed to “uncrumpling” him and blessing him with as good a life as we could, for as long as he was with us. On his second day at home, as he looked at me with those incredibly beautiful, dark, expressive eyes, it jumped out and practically screamed at me: “Piccolo!!!” I don’t know why, but it was just perfect.

Over time, as perfection inevitably gets worn and tattered, “Piccolo” became “Pickles”, which eventually became “Pickles the Incontinent of the Subcontinent” as we realized his bladder control was sporadic at best.

Within a matter of weeks we took in two adorable small puppies we found on a construction site near our home. Not to be outdone by the little charmers, Pickles made sure they knew he was top dog, and took pleasure in bossing them around. As they grew bigger, he grew stronger. In retrospect, getting our pups Button and Penelope when we did worked to renew Pickles’ zest for life. He had a new pack to manage, and a new reason to live.

When Hugo, the skinny little pup who was eventually triumphantly adopted by Sarah and Ryan in Canada, joined the mix last fall, Pickles did a great job babysitting and playing with the little cutie. He adored little Hugo (now “Pete”) and was so happy to have him in the pack:

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This is a fabulous, fun mental exercise; it’s great for bonding and to build confidence in dogs that lack it. This game is especially good if your dog feels uncomfortable with a specific family member.

• Start hiding a ball or favorite toy in plain view (behind you) while sitting on the floor and telling the dog to “find it”.
• Then put on a jacket or a sweater with a hood and hide the toy on you while the dog is watching, put the dog’s favorite item it in your pockets, in the hood, up the back, get him excited and then tell him to find it.
• You can use a treat as well if the dog is not interested in toys presently.
• Once he knows the game, tell him “stay”, and then leave the room, hide it on you and return to sit and let the dog go at it.

The main reason for hiding it on you in the beginning, is that it makes the dog eager to interact with you physically (he will sniff you from head to toe, shove his nose in your pockets, down your neck, push up the back hood to get the toy).

With a shy or fearful dog you don’t need to make a move to touch the dog, allow the dog to do all the contact.

Before you know it, the dog can find several toys by name in difficult hiding places- upstairs on top of a door frame, on top of dressers or tables, under quilts and pillows, in the laundry basket, under the bed, or anywhere!

Go try it out!

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You need to invest a fair amount of time and energy to train a really reliable recall. One reason why owners are having problems with recalls is because dogs learn contextually, also called” place learning”. Lack of generalization is acutely evident in the recall. The park is a very different context than the home environment where most training sessions take place. Another explanation is that the dog does not associate the word “Come” with the act of returning to his owner. Remember, dogs do not learn words as cues very easily and are most likely responding to context and visual body cues when they follow your requests. It is possible to teach your dog to respond reliably to a verbal request, but it must be done in a specific sequence for the dog to learn.

Another reason is that the bar is simply set too high. Maybe you have practiced coming when called in your quiet, fenced back yard but nowhere else. A recall in a small, familiar space with little or no distraction is the equivalent of a Kindergarten recall while a recall at a public park or in the woods is the doggy equivalent of a Ph. D. There are many “grades” in between that must be mastered before attempting a higher level recall. The most common reason a dog may not return when called is that it’s never been rewarded. Worse coming may have led to punishment in the past. It doesn’t matter whether this punishment was intentional, such as yelling at your dog for coming too slowly, or unintentional, such as only calling your dog at the end of a play session, clipping on the leash and leaving the park or calling your dog and throwing him right in the bathtub, the result is the same. The dog has learned that coming to you when you call for him generally means bad news for him or at the very least, the end of fun. If your dog does not like to come to you when called it is a sign there is something amiss in your relationship or that your dog does not know what you would like him to do when you call him.

The good news is the solution is the same regardless of the reason your dog doesn’t come when called. Thoroughly teach him and then reward him for doing it. Reward him by letting go play again. It can take up to the age of 18 to 24 months to achieve a really reliable recall.

I integrate my recall training with every pleasant thing I care to offer my dogs. Dinner is a good one, handing out fresh bones to chew on. I set myself up so the dogs are away from me and interested in something, then I call and they fly to me. I have to actually work at trying to sneak away from them in the forest. I call them for a game, for a walk, for a car ride or for a cookie. Take advantage of all the opportunities right at your fingertips. You will be amazed how many recalls you can do in just one day.

Play come games, – dog games helps to create a good association to form a reliable recall, which is one of the things every dog needs to know. Every person in the family takes turns calling the dog and rewards when she comes. Rewards vary from person to person, and can include enthusiastic attention, a ball toss, food, and a toy and so on. The dog has to go to the person who called her, otherwise he’ll be ignored and no rewards happen. The dog learns to come to every family member and the game tires her out. Engage in chase games where your dog chases you.

Never call your dog to come if you can’t enforce it. Manage with a long leash, but avoid reeling your dog in as much as possible. Instead, step on the leash to prevent him from going where he wants to, wait until he gets bored, looks at you and (hopefully) comes when you call with an upbeat voice.

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It’s a journey that almost didn’t get started.

In November of 2009, 97 huskies were rescued from horrible conditions. With little food or water, the dogs lived in filth and inhumane conditions. They inevitably had to feed off their fallen brothers and the young to survive. No animal should live like that.

Of the 97 that were rescued, all of them were saved. And since that day in early November, 127 puppies have been born into welcoming arms. As of mid-January, all the puppies that were old enough have found loving families. It’s a sad story with a happy ending.

The owner of the huskies was once a respected breeder who was recommended by the local SPCA. He had 12 huskies that he took excellent care of. It’s unclear what happened, but most newspaper articles go out of their way not to criticize him. This suggests that he may have fallen ill or for whatever reason, was not able to care for them.

If he were a puppy-mill operator, his hide would have been pasted to the barn door and we would have known what he had for breakfast by the end of the day. The public hates puppy mills. Even worse, they hate the people who operate them.

So why does it happen so often in Quebec? The answer is simple: anyone can call themselves a breeder. There are no rules and regulations saying that you must provide this or limit your dogs to that or house them in this type of structure. No, in Quebec, anyone can buy a couple of animals and start breeding them.

Of course puppy mills wouldn’t exist without the many pet shops who grab up the healthy dogs. There are no regulations for pet shops either. Most of them turn a blind eye to the ways the animals might have been treated because they just see the healthy ones that are offered to them. But they know what goes on behind the scenes.

So in the end, the 97 huskies were rescued and all will find a home. And 13 of them already made their way to the suburbs of Ottawa in late November. Plenty of people with big hearts have stepped forward to open their homes and their hearts.

And as for the 127 newborn puppies, they are off to an excellent start.

Denton Fowler wrote this article for petpellbeing.com which offers prevention and treatment products for cancer in cats and Cushings Disease in dogs.

To learn more about the Huskies still available for adoption through BARK rescue, visit their website.

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Communication and pack structure problems manifest themselves in many ways.

Communication

What we humans interpret as behaviour problems in our dogs can accurately be defined as communication problems – humans to dog and vice versa.

Dogs communicate using hundreds of different signals they have inherited from their ancestors. We don’t speak their language, so problems arise.

Example: You command ‘down’ in a stern voice. The dog detects that you are angry and sends a signal of submission in an attempt to calm you. That signal is the dog going down very slowly. But you interpret the slow movement as defiance. You correct the dog for going very slowly, now he’s really confused.

Pack Structure

Dogs by nature are pack animals, seeking to find their place in the social structure. If a clear leader is not evident to the dog, he will often seek this role himself. Many common problems are symptoms of an underlying problem with the dog’s perception of his place in the family.

Example: One of the responsibilities of the leader of the pack is the protection of the pack. When the dog thinks it outranks the person at the other end of the leash, it may feel compelled to protect that person when coming in contact with another dog by behaving with aggression toward the other dog.

Same thing with the dog who constantly barks in the back yard, it’s exhibiting the stress of it’s perceived leadership. From his perspective he is the one who must shoulder the burden of protecting the pack.

Types of behavior problems linked with communication and pack structure problems are as follows:

• Pulling on leash
• Destructive chewing
• Housebreaking problems
• Aggression to family members
• Excessive barking
• Jumping on people
• Hyperactivity
• Mounting
• Crying out when crated
• Yard escaping
• Submissive urination, marking and other inappropriate elimination
• Darting out of doorways
• Climbing on furniture and stealing food, not coming when called

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