Saturday, May 14, 2011

Country dogs: born to be wild -- and smell that way


When it comes to chew toys for dogs, some last for years but others … well, they’re much easier to swallow. Consider the coyote – we dubbed him Crunchy Calvin -- that showed up at our farmhouse recently.

“Calvin” had obviously had a rough winter. By the time our black lab dragged him home, he was little more than a scruffy pelt with a few crunchy parts attached. During their first dog/coyote play date, Calvin literally lost his head. Within three days, his feet, tail and other bits of anonymous fluff were likewise detached and most likely eaten.

So: would you let your dog eat a dead coyote? Or browse on the spoils of a compost pile? Or eat a baby rabbit that it just dug – still squeaking -- from a grassy burrow?

If you answered “yes” to at least two of these questions then chances are you’ve got a country dog – or at least, a city dog that lives by country dog rules. By that, I mean a dog that’s left as free as possible to pursue its own doggish nature. Country dogs enjoy plenty of freedom, with all the adventure and hardship that a life lived out-of-doors entails. Country dogs are loved, but never smothered; they’re cared for, but rarely pampered; they’re well-trained, but not expected to act like a miniature human being.

When I was a kid in the 60s and 70s, dogs occupied a much lower rung on the social ladder. Even in town, they lived in backyard dog houses where they chewed real bones and survived on table scraps or cheap pet food. They had dog names like Sport, Dixie, Buddy and Sarge. They were friendly enough, but your hand always smelled a little funky after you petted one. Except for the occasional rabies or distemper shot, they rarely saw the inside of a vet’s office.

Nowadays, millions of Americans have elevated their dogs to the status of life partner or surrogate child. In his book “One Nation Under Dog,” author Michael Schaffer writes that eighty-five percent of pet owners now refer to themselves as the Mommy or Daddy of their companion animals. Forty-seven percent of dog owners say their pet sleeps in bed with them at night.

Across the United States, spending on pets mushroomed from $15 billion in 1995 to $45 billion in 2009. There are now pet-food nutritionists, veterinary dermatologists, dog kennels with TVs, and – inevitably -- lawyers who specialize in pet custody cases.

The sad paradox, animal experts say, is that dogs get confused and misbehave when we treat them too much like people. They still expect us to be leaders of the pack. Consequently, thousands of “pet parents” now medicate their animals for doggie A.D.D, anxiety, depression and other suspiciously human-like disorders. But what if we’re trying to make a simple, fur-bearing mammal serve a social purpose that it’s biologically unsuited to fill? Furthermore, what if it’s not the dog that needs therapy? As Edward Abbey once said, "When a dog is a man's best friend, then that dog has a problem."

With a country dog, you try to balance reasonable safety with the canine need for self-directed exploration. This means that sometimes they’ll kill little live things that you wish they hadn’t. And that other times they’ll roll in something dead, flat and stinky that you wish they’d left on the road. Yet these are dogs after all … must we micromanage their every instinct and pleasure?

It’s been about 10,000 years since dogs first consented to live with humans. So in truth, they’re no longer born to be wild. But every so often, it doesn’t hurt to unhook the leash, cry havoc and let them live that way

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