Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Are Domestic Dogs Truly Carnivores?


Whether or not domestic dogs should be considered carnivores or omnivores has been a point of controversy for years and years.

Many people argue that because dogs can and have survived on a diet of plant matter, the label of "omnivore" is more apt. After all, vegan kibbles exist, and occasionally you hear mention of a dog with meat intolerances that has to be plant based in order to soothe allergic reactions.

Homemade vegan dog food by @fitlauraxo.

Anecdotes aside, studies suggest that the ability to efficiently digest plant matter played a big part in the domestication process. Unlike wolves, domestic dogs produce amylase not only in their pancreas, but also in their saliva. It is speculated that this occurred during the early days of the dog, when they were subsisting on a diet of food scraps and human feces.

A pair of village dogs.

I must admit that the evidence is compelling, but then...

There is no denying that fresh food diets are better for anyone, human or animal, and I've seen many dogs not only survive but thrive on diets of fresh meat, bone, and offal. They have teeth built for tearing flesh, not for grinding like ours.

Homemade raw dog food by @rawfed365.

I watch my dog run down a rat, shake it, and break its neck so fast it doesn't have the chance to squeal. I hear her break bones with her teeth, and I see her rip intestines from the abdomen of a hare. I think to myself, "this is it, this is what she was designed to do. She is a predator."

Cinder eating a whole prey hare.

So, where does that leave me? Well... on the fence. My own answer to the question I present is "inconclusive."

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Saturday, May 5, 2018

It's NOT All in How They're Raised


A Labrador Retriever throws himself in to churning waters to fetch his owner's quarry. His paws fight the current and he swims strongly, holding its head above the water. Several times, the waves threaten to pull him under, yet he perseveres until he is close enough to close his jaws, softly but firmly, around the prize.

Painting by Karl Edwards

A Hungarian Vizsla sniffs the air, gazing at the horizon with keen, watchful eyes. Once she finds what she is looking for, she raises her petite, russet paw, tucking it toward her chest: this is a sign her handlers know well. She is still as can be, the puff of her breath in the crisp air the only thing betraying her from a statue.

Painting by Ross B Young

A sharp eyed Border Collie slinks down the fell. His paws barely make a sound as he moves, ghost-like, across the ground. At the sharp sound of a whistle, he veers to the left, circling the sheep and crowding them together before they move as one toward an open gap in the fence.

Painting by Sue Deutscher

We find it easy to conjure up these images in our heads. They are accepted, even expected traits within their breeds. When a Cattle Dog nips the neighbour's heels, or a Terrier digs holes in the yard, we are more inclined to disregard these behaviours. It's just who they are!

So why, then, is it that the American Pit Bull Terrier, a breed which was created decades ago for dog on dog combat, is marketed as misunderstood? When a Pit Bull acts on its natural predisposition and shows aggression toward other animals, society cries that it must have been mistreated, the owners did something to make it that way.

Painting by Edwin Henry Landseer

Nature and nurture work side by side, you can not train or love the genetics out of a dog. This blatant lie, that it is "all in how they're raised," is the reason for the increased number of attacks perpetuated for pit bull type dogs, for the hordes of people petitioning for breed specific legislation.

If only we were transparent about what these dogs were built for, perhaps we could prevent them from falling in to the hands of amateur owners who can not handle them, who are told the dog is sweet as pie and are then blindsided when he rips in to the neighbour's Chihuahua.


Friday, May 4, 2018

How it all Began


When I first laid eyes on Cinder, my heart melted.


She was one of nine wriggly potatoes, barely coordinated enough to wobble around the closet in which they were kept. Pitch black but a stripe on her chest and a spot on her chin, the first thing she did was hobble over to me, squat down, and pee on my shoe. I loved her then and there.

I had chosen to get a puppy on a whim. After years of struggling with mental illness, and with several suicide attempts under my belt, I felt that something had to give and so I set out to find and train a service dog. Spoiler alert: she never did become a service dog, but she saved me all the same.

I cradled her in my arms on the car ride home. She was tiny and sickly, and she threw up on me more times than I can count, but I just wiped her mouth and stroked her head, whispering sweet words in her ears. I looked in to her eyes, still puppy blue, and knew that this was my reason to keep on going.

There were ups and downs... oh, there were a lot of downs... but we tackled them head on, and even when I felt like throwing in the towel, we made it work. She grew to be lean and beautiful, with the build of a Whippet and the heart of a Retriever. A sight to behold.



I look at this dog, and I see the trust in her eyes. I know deep down I would move mountains for her, and she would do the same for me. I can't wait to share our adventures, new and old, with the world.