Things you may not have tried - Tracking

On Saturday mornings, at 5:30, three normally markedly more nocturnal creatures rise from their slumber, and head for a congregation of like minded people in one field or another. 

Mornings are simply the most beautiful part of a day. The world is fresh and new, seemingly sparkling with delight in the soft sunshine. 

But we are not out here to admire the beautiful morning, no. Well, not entirely. We are here to plant a pole in the ground, and armed with a chunk of raw animal, walk away from that pole in strange patterns, carefully counting out steps as we go. 

Look carefully, and you can spot the human walking in a straight line away from the pole, laying a track.
Tip: She's in front of the mine dump.

At the end of your particular pattern, which, for those just starting out is a straight line, but for those quite advanced can be an 'R' shape, an 'h' shape, or even the infamous 'B', you commit your chunk of animal to the care of the grassy field, step over it, and carefully walk back to where the cars are parked and the dogs are waiting eagerly. Beginner dogs will set out nearly straight away, but more experienced dogs can wait for a long time, sometimes several hours, or even a day, before they are asked to follow their track.

Kira is not one for overt shows of excitement. Sure, she likes treats, and she loves belly rubs, but aside from the most wonderful dance for her daily walk and the occasional bone, she maintains an air of stoic dignity. Not so at the tracking fields. Impatiently she barks at you from her crate as soon as she becomes aware of your approach. She can barely stand still for her harness to come on, can barely contain herself as you clip the ten meter long line to it. 

C'mon Nina!

Impatiently she jumps up at me, prompting me to get to the starting pole faster, faster.

When we reach the pole, magic happens. You approach the pole you planted and touched, and Kira changes. Her whole self awareness shrinks down to her nose, and after what seems like the briefest of sniffs at the base of the pole, we're off. I let the line play out until she's about seven meters away from me, enough distance to let her work on her own, but close enough that I am there, performing my duty of marking the last known point where she was correctly on the track. Mine are small dogs, Kira nearly disappears into the summer grass.

#smalldogproblems

Following an invisible path through a field, one consisting of your scent only, that your human eyes cannot see, that you have only the barest of remembrance of exactly where you stepped, is a humbling experience. Kira tracks well over 300 meters, and while I definitely have the general gist of where I went, she can tell me where I stepped and how long I lingered there. Halfway along, her track veers sharply to the right - we are teaching her to do corners, is the official reason. This seems absurd, though, when Kira takes the corner without stopping, without hesitation. She just smoothly turns right and continues. Teach her this, this skill that is as basic to her as breathing? We are fooling ourselves. 

Om nom nom!

Of course, this whole adventure is hardly humbling for Kira, who delights in forging ahead at great speed, occasionally looking back with a grin as if to laugh at me and my inadequate senses. 

Sooner than you think, Kira is upon her prize, and while I sing her praises she eats it.

Where Kira is just amazing at tracking, unstoppable, unflappable, and with a confidence and accuracy that belies her short career, Talos is not. Compared to Kira, to me, Talos seems downright slow, but in all fairness, she is about average at this tracking game. Slow, methodical, and insisting upon dead silence while she works, where Kira could not care less if you were to pull out a marching band and dance a can-can, as long as you walk faster, already. 

Talos also nearly disappears into the lushness of summer.

Talos tracks a hundred meters, despite having been at this for much longer. But I am proud of every step, because malicious rumour has it that pugs cannot do this. I can truthfully say rumour is false, that while Talos is average, she is as good as any other average dog. I am quite sure there are pugs that are better at this, with more focus for this kind of task, as I am quite sure that there are fairy-headed basset hounds that will be quite inept, though I suspect both cases are about equally rare. Either way, learning independent working, and learning to both use, and trust their nose, is a great skill we must encourage in our dogs - most especially those who tend to ignore it!

Good pug. That will most definitely do.

This does not take away from the fact that my little pug sniffs her starter pole, and sets out on her invisible path into the field, leading me to the prize. We are developing her confidence, as you can see, we crossed a footpath this morning - difficult for many dogs, they tend to follow along the path in stead of sniffing out the fainter scent of their own human leading back into the brush. But no problems here, slowly, carefully my puggy lady sniffed my trail, and slowly, carefully she sniffed the path, before moving right over it and back into the tall grass.

Hers was a very well earned reward at the end, today.

Talos is never one to let an opportunity to have fun pass her by. 

Afterwards, what would a good morning be without some frolicking in the grass?

At tracking, the silly side of Kira comes out, and she happily bounds through the tall grass, chasing fairies that only she can see. Undoubtedly the star of the morning, her normally reserved self just can't help it. Whee!

With this in mind, do consider giving tracking a go. Unlike many dog sports, you need next to no equipment, and while handling a long line and learning to read your dog's body language take a bit of finesse, both are easily learnt with a bit of practice. 

You will need a long line, which is quickly made out of some rope and a clip, a harness, which you likely have already, and a chunk of meat from the butchery. These are easy and useful things to have anyway, and while you can often borrow one, the pole is little more than a broomstick with a spike on one end. In our experience, the trainers gently, slowly, encouragingly coax your dog over time - you cannot force a dog to track.

The activity is suitable even for physically less strong dogs, like Talos, they merely need to be able to move forwards (though, if like my two, you will track through tall grass, some fitness may be required for them to keep bunny hopping for 300 meters, like Kira tries to do). 

It's really hard work for the dogs, despite the relatively physically undemanding nature. Both of them sag down into their crates when we head home afterwards and are completely out for the whole drive and for most of the rest of the day. Well earned sleep, I say!

To recap, the good and bad of tracking:

Good:

The sheer magic of 'seeing' through a dog's nose

Really easy to get started

Little to no equipment needed

Physically relatively undemanding for both dog and human - both must be able to walk for moderate distances

Encourages independent thought and confidence in a dog

Safe even for dog/human reactive dogs - dogs are on lead, and widely spaced in a large area

Bad:

Early mornings

Involves some travel to get to large open spaces

Can be very slow paced

Lots of exposure to ticks

Dating site profile: Bane (or, am I your dog?)

Introducing Bane, a sleek, glossy black boy with so much love to give.

Am I your dog? 

Bane is two years old, male, neutered and has gorgeous brown eyes with short, black fur with a white patch on his chin, chest and tiny bit of white on his toes. He weighs about 40 kilograms.

Bane is everything you could want in a big, bouncy dog. He loves to swim and he loves to play games. He would love long walks and play sessions in the park, but sadly, right now, he can't get those. Bane and his house mate, a female dog, do not get on very well, and with only one human between them there simply is not enough time or energy to give both dogs what they need.

Bane is very, very excited about new doggy friends, so much so that his enthusiasm can be a bit scary to other dogs, landing him in trouble. Taking a bit of time to slowly introduce him to many friends should help with this, though - he's not a bad boy, just a bouncy boy!

Bounce is not all this hunky hound has to offer. He is a champion cuddler, and would like nothing more than to curl up with you and watch a movie or a game. Even better if you would share your popcorn - that's right, this boy loves treats!

Bane has been very well cared for, he has all of his vaccines and has been regularly seen by a good vet. He has eaten only good quality dog food. He lives in Johannesburg, but he can easily get to anywhere within an hour or two's drive.

Could this be just the dog you were looking for? Comment below, drop me an email, send a smoke signal... This boy needs a home!

Hiking with dogs - some important stuff to think about

I love taking my dogs and going for a hike. It's unlike a walk in two ways, it usually allows me to let them run off lead, and it is often 'out in nature' as much as I can get in a big city. I imagine that many people would enjoy this, and I always encourage people to get out there and walk more often, especially with dogs in tow. They need more exercise than we think, and more mental stimulation too, and a good hike meets both of those demands.

Plus, you get to take wonderful pictures.

Isn't she just beautiful? It was a cloudy day, that one, which makes for the most marvelous soft light.

I digress.

Picking up a lead and a collar, some poopie bags, and heading off on a neigbourhood walk is easy. There's very little preparation to be done. A hike, however, needs a little more thought. Let's look at some of those things:

1. Good dog kit.
A collar is mostly ok for neighbourhood walks, given that your dog is not much of a puller or not a type of dog susceptible to tracheal collapse. For a hike, though, you may need to hoist your dog bodily up a cliff, rapidly pick them up out of harm's way, or rescue them from a river. A good harness, one that is study, lightweight and neither chafes nor interferes with your dog's natural movement is the way to go. The Julius K9 harnesses are really neat (Talos is wearing one in the picture above), having a handle and space for some doggie back packs, but any sturdy H-harness works well too, though they do tend to wear away some hair at the very base of their rib cage. I've found, for the terrain we tend to hike through, that fabric harnesses pick up too many burrs and seeds and get scratchy very quickly (poor dogs!). This may well differ in your area. I don't much like step-in harnesses, they tend to catch my dog in the armpit which affects their gait.

In the picture above, you can see my preferred hiking kit - collar and leather h-harness. Having clearly marked and readable tags on your dog is a very, very good idea, and forms part of what I would consider good dog kit.
In colder climates, good dog kit may extend to include a coat or booties. Even mid winter it's never cold enough to warrant clothing on a dog while active, so I know pretty much nothing about what makes good active cold weather gear.

2. Good human kit.
Don't underestimate the value of a good, comfortable backpack that has enough space for all your things (in my case, this would include my camera) and a little spare, in case you need to pop a dog in there. Well, if you have bigger dogs, maybe not that last one. Additionally, take some time to think about your leads. You will want something that does not cause rope burn if you end up walking with dogs on lead for hours (you just might). Leather or soft rope leads are best, in my experience. A good hat, and some good, comfortable hiking boots with proper ankle support are good ideas too!

3. A good emergency plan.
If something happens in the suburbs or on a city block, you have many people around you that could help, and often, veterinary care nearby too. If something happens on a hill somewhere, though, it's not so easy. This teeny tiny emergency kit is a super idea:
Be Prepared: A Tiny First Aid Kit for Hiking With Dogs
Another thing to think about is what you'll do if your dog is so badly injured it needs carrying. Mostly this won't be an issue, unless you have a 50 kilogram plus big dog, or are physically unable to carry a pet. Having a working phone and someone to call for help is a very good idea, as is knowing where you are (or, more relevant, how others can get to your location).

4. Enough water.
This is perhaps less of an issue if you hike in an area with abundant clean water sources to drink from. In SA, though, it's hot and it's dry, and what water is available is usually not drinkable. Pack enough water for you and your dogs. In my case, an hour's walk in hot weather on a dry, dusty hillside sees me carrying about three liters of water. Half of that will go to me, and half to the dogs, more or less. I have a light plastic bowl for them to drink out of - collapsible silicone bowls are awesome for drinking water.
As an aside, knowing the signs of impending heatstroke is a good idea too.

This here pug is too hot, and needs to cool down. Shade, and water both to drink and to wet her with is called for. Look at that tongue - the bright pink, cup-shaped tongue is the key.

5. Pest control.
Where we walk, we encounter lots of ticks. Where you walk, it might be mosquitoes bearing heartworm, or snails bearing bilharzia, or leeches. Either way, you need to be ready. I apply some bug repellant to my legs, and both my dogs are treated with a topical spot-on treatment every four weeks.

6. A good recall.
Perhaps that's phrasing it a bit lightly. A really, really solid recall that will not let you down when your dog sees a zebra or a fieldmouse over there and wants to go eat it, but is likely to get killed if they try. This is the dealbreaker of off-lead hiking, if your dog does not come back, you will be without your dog very quickly, and very few dogs could survive on their own in the wilderness.
So practice, practice, practice. :)

Now go! Explore the wild places with your pooches!

Treats: Bacon, liver and cheese, oh my!

I, Talos, do not aprove of this message. I
am not getting too many treats! Outrageous!

I train with treats. Especially when we're learning new things, or practicing something in a new location, or working on short behaviours, or practicing good manners near people, or... well, I train with treats a lot. There's pretty much always a something something in my pocket.

I also have teeny, tiny little dogs. Itty bitty pooches that both of them, really, really love food.

Here we have the crux of the matter. Treats are easy. Anything your dog likes is a good treat. My list is long and varied, for the one it's mostly meat, for the other, fruits, some veggies and cheese is definitely also there.

Also easy is making your treats tiny. It's necessary to have them teeny tiny, because it's so easy to feed a small dog into rotundness.

But even so, I've noticed a distinct softness about the waistline of my pug. She's up 500 grams from where she was.

We have been training a lot, mind you. But I need to be careful! 500 grams on her is a 10 % weight gain.

So, some ideas for ways to stretch your daily treat allowance:

1. Use their food for treats.
Easier said than done, sometimes, but this is the best way to get more training bang for less calories. You can absolutely cut kibble into smaller bits. If you feed a canned food or a minced raw, it's slightly less gross if you have the food a bit frozen. If you feed prey model raw... well, I guess you could still chop it up, but that kinda defeats the purpose?

2. Pick low calorie treats.
Sometimes this is bad - paper is low calorie, but is definitely not good for you. That said, there are great low calorie treat options. Bits of fresh apple, dried lung of any animal and carrot cubes are three low calorie suggestions that most dogs will like. Putting a tiny bit of 'bad stuff' into lots of low calorie stuff also works - a tiny bit of peanut butter in apple puree makes a tempting treat for dogs who don't like apple, but do like peanut butter (it even gets my two eating cucumber, which is pretty much water in terms of calories!).

3. Use different kinds of rewards.
Throwing a ball or offering a tug is a great alternative reward, building motivation and a relationship with you also. Plus, it's exercise, which your doggy can do with more of, I promise. The downside - not all dogs are toy motivated (not all are food motivated either, but then a discussion of treats is not relevant in the first place). You can build toy drive, but it takes time. It also takes time to reward with a toy. I can feed a treat a second (or more) during some training. You cannot play a game of fetch in that amount of time. So, this is great for rewarding behaviour chains, but not so good for rewarding a quick "101 things to do with a box".

4. Cut the treats even smaller.
If you're like me, then you prefer breakable treats that you tear pieces of as you go (chicken, both boiled or dried, is just super for this!). This means your treat sizes are already pretty small. But make an effort to give smaller treats, the reward is the same for your dog, and you are less likely to stray, like me, into feeding your dog too much.

Whatever you do, remember that treats are food too, and that it's all too easy to feed a tiny dog too much. Plan your treats like you plan their meals - weigh them, and know how much you give them.

Your dog is fat

I need to get something off my chest.

It's not something we like to talk about. But it's time.

Your dog, it's fat.

It's not 'just a Bulldog', if you cannot feel the ribs, if there is no waist and no tuck up from the side. It's fat. It can't breathe, it overheats faster... your dog is fat.

It's not a snuggly Labrador if it has a giant pocket of fat over its shoulders and in front by its chest. It puts strain on its joints, leading to faster hip degeneration and earlier old age problems. Your dog is fat.

It's not a cute Pug with puggy rolls if it is cylindrical. I don't care what the breed standard says, or what your expectations are. I don't care if the vet tells you your dog is healthy, trust me, they've either gotten used to seeing fat, fat, fat walk through their door so much so that they only really note horrible obesity, or they're too scared to tell you. Your dog is fat.

There's a secret behind all of this. You control all their food. Absolutely every bite that goes into that dog's mouth  -  it's on you. Your dog is fat... because you made it fat.

And the health problems that goes with a fat dog? It's on you too. Sore hips, faster arthritis, heart problems, overheating ... It's on you.

I'm sick of seeing dogs that are fat. Because it's on you. Because you're hurting your dog.

Food is not love. It's part of an expression of love, sure. But so much that you hurt them? That's not love.

I'll let you in on a secret - those images? I just googled 'bulldog', 'labrador' and 'pug'. No qualifier. These are what we think these dogs should look like. And you know what? They're all too fat.

Enough with this.

Put your hands on your dog. Can you feel their ribs, easily, like you can feel the bones on the back of your hand? Good - your dog is not fat. But you can't, can you?

Look at your dog. Can you see a waist? A nice tuck up from the side? Good, your dog is not fat... but again, this is not what you see, is it?

Your dog is fat... and it's on you.

On rituals and familiarity

whee... anthropology post time. If you're looking for doggy things, move along.

Rituals are peculiar things. On the one hand, they can be extremely mundane. Brushing your teeth, for example, is a thing that, aside from a practical function, for many persons serve as the preparation for sleep, or relaxation, or make them ready for the start of their day. I'm oversimplifying, but yeah, brushing your teeth is pretty much as mundane as it gets, yet it can be considered a ritual. On the other hand, you get the large, society-organising, mind shifting, world altering rituals. This is the inauguration of a president, or the human sacrifice that marks the end of one era and the beginning of the next in many South American societies. The removal of a heart and the resulting death of a person is considered pretty foreign to our understanding of the world, and is seriously overdramatised and made into a spectacle by Hollywood (Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, anyone?).

Yet, just this morning, I attended such a ritual. It was a brain, and not a heart, but I feel like I'm splitting hairs in this case. Let me describe it to you:

Before the brain-ritual can begin, the ceremonial priests undergo extensive preparation. They are ritually clothed in garb that is never present outside of these rituals. The garb is loose, unflattering clothing that would be closest to sleepwear, and would accordingly be considered inappropriate to wear anywhere else. The garb is usually all of one colour, green, blue or white being typical, though brown is not unheard of. They cover their feet in special coverings in order to keep the outside world and all of its contaminating elements out of the ritual space, and also to keep the ritual space separate from the everyday, outside world. These are not shoes, and would not provide any protection to their feet from physical dangers like thorns or stones - they serve no purpose aside from maintaining and isolating the purity of the ritual space in this society. They also cover their heads in a similar manner to the way they cover their feet. This masks any hairstyle they may be wearing. In fact, the ceremonial garb seems to deliberately depersonalise the ceremonial priest - he or she is merely a symbol of being someone with the knowledge and necessary training to carry out this ritual, and his or her individuality is entirely irrelevant to the situation.

Once appropriately garbed and hooded, they proceed to clense their hands. They have special liquids that they apply and a strictly ritualised manner in which they apply this liquid. This is considered so important that even though the ritual is very harmful to their skin, over time resulting in very dry, cracked skin that can be fairly painful to live with, they do this every time and with great precision. Special circular motions and interlocking of finger digits are concluded by a long and careful rinsing process. Once done, these hands may now not touch anything in the ordinary, everyday world. They are carefully covered in purpose made gloves, gloves which are typically also worn only during rituals such as these.

I, as an observer occupying that peculiar space between a knowledgeable person and a layperson, was allowed to observe this process through a special screen. My knowledge comes from my experience as an anthropologist, but does not grant me the privileges of a fully fledged initiate into the ceremonial priesthood - something which takes roughly ten years to achieve, though initiates start practicing this ceremony from their second or third year. 

The priest enters the ceremonial area, and finds a human brain laid out on an altar for him. Priests are often male, though women are not excluded from becoming such priests. The brain has been carefully prepared by initiates. The skull was carefully sawed open, the brain stem severed, and the brain itself anointed, oiled and perfumed to make it into a ceremonial object. On special side-tables alongside the altar are various implements. A long bladed knife, various hooks and pins, and an assortment of what looks to be tweezers are laid out in neat rows. These implements, like the tables and altar, have all been ritually heated and anointed with alcoholic substances in preparation.

The brain is ritually sourced. Sometimes, a person willingly donates their body for this kind of ritual dismemberment. This is quite rare, though, and is socially a little frowned upon. More usually, the brain is taken from someone killed violently, often by the rapid impact of a big object to their body at high speed. This body is then not claimed or identified by anyone, which signals its availability for use in this ritual. Often, these bodies come from the least of society, the poorest, those with few social connections, people who will not be missed.

For the next hour or more, I truly lost track of time, the priest spoke a special language as he carefully cut the brain into ever smaller pieces, sometimes following along with the curved grey matter, at other times cutting through it. The special language is never spoken outside of the ritual context or the training therefore, lest it lose its power. It is made up of ancient languages of people that the priests consider their forebears, even though it is nearly impossible that they are actually genetically related to people who spoke those languages thousands of years ago. As he speaks, he names each piece of the brain with a word of power, that imbues that section with meaning and power that is only meaningful and powerful to the initiates of the priesthood, but that nonetheless leave the audience with a sense of awe and power.

The ritual is repeated, again and again, with no purpose outside of naming the parts and practicing the skills needed to perform the ritual itself. 

Finally, the ritual concludes with clapping of hands as a show of appreciation for the work done by the priest, and much admiration is expressed for the straightness of his cuts and his ability to remember and recite the ceremonial names of each part. 

What I was in fact watching was not some obscure tribal ritual, but a dissection of a brain by an anatomy expert. This ritual, that I have made seem somewhat strange, is in fact a perfectly ordinary teaching tool for making doctors and neuro-scientists - highly valued and powerful experts in their own context. 

Why did I make this seem so strange? Anthropology typically seeks to make the strange seem normal. In that way, it is a very powerful tool with which to fight prejudice (witchcraft is not foolish or superstition, in fact, it explains unfortunate events quite well, and even gives you some sense of control over them - see this PDF article by Evans Pritchard). But in an interesting twist of fighting prejudice, anthropology can also make the normal seem strange, by couching it in the narrative style usually reserved for practices we would find abnormal, worthy of condemnation. I'm not trying to say that dissections are worthy of condemnation, definitely not. I am trying to point out how very weird our medical science is. How very powerful our doctors and other medical people are, that they can take body parts from people and display them, anonymously and with great ceremony, to other experts. 

These body parts, depersonalised, unnamed, disconnected from a person, is entirely foreign to nearly anyone's experience after dying - most are carefully placed in caskets, celebrated and buried, with a marker indicating who they were and how long they lived. If the cadaver was donated, there may well be such a marker for the person, but donations are rare (and no wonder). Part of the reason for this rarity, is of course, a culturally-mediated conviction that bodies must be whole to be able to be resurrected upon the return of the messiah, but part of it is also that few people want to be made into such a specimen after death. Mostly, it's an unnamed and unclaimed corpse as a result of a road accident (which we have way too many of). The end of that corpse is being burned up with medical waste in a fire, or at best, remaining forever more in a jar of formaldehyde. 

Looking away from this spectacle once you've been invited in is frowned upon as unscientific (I am such a charlatan, this sort of thing makes me very queasy). Being a person of science makes you one of the most powerful people in today's world - like the priests of the Christian medieval world, they literally decide what is true and what is not, what can, and cannot, be known, or acted upon, or changed. 

I'm not trying to condemn. I'm trying to ask a question. Is this right? Is this fair? Is this, really, how we want to decide what is real, what is worth knowing and acting upon? 

Person whose brain I saw dissected today, I'll remember you. If nothing else, I can do that much. I'll remember you as a human, who lived, laughed, cried, spoke and made a difference to those around you. You were more than an amygdala oblongata and a pons, more valuable than a list of terms. Your contribution to medical science may be questionable, but I hope you teach students what they need to learn to practice medicine, and that in their practice they heal people.

Chronic pain and what you can do about it.

It's one of those things that most doggy people will have to deal with eventually: chronic pain. Either from arthritis, or hip dysplasia, or simply weary old dog bodies, or, as is the case here, from an accident that left lasting damage.

Chronic pain in dogs, like in humans, can either be a constant factor or it can come and go, be better and worse over time. Sadly, just like in humans once again, there are things you can do to make it better, but rarely things you can do to fix it completely. You can manage it, though, and by taking an active role in pain management, you can improve your dogs quality of life quite a bit.

With that in mind, here is a list of things you can do to help manage pain:

1. See your vet.

Dogs are stoic creatures, and especially old dogs often have their quiet, reserved habits attributed to being old, in stead of to being in pain. This puts the onus on us to make sure what we're seeing is in fact old dog (or calm dog) behaviour, and not behaviour that signals "I'm in pain". It's like the vet joke about tooth and gum disease in dogs - the main symptom is none at all.

In Talos's case, times when she is in more pain are marked by her disappearing for stretches of time. Not exactly the easiest marker to spot, since she alternates being out of sight with being on my lap, very close to me. She also sleeps more, is less playful, and is much quieter. Our vet (and other professionals) recommended we keep a journal, this has been absolutely crucial in figuring out a pain scale, with which I can assess when we're at crisis level and need to go see the vet, when I can just medicate at home, and when she's sore, but it's not yet time to medicate.

When you suspect you're dealing with pain, go see your vet.

2. Medication

This is, for many reasons, a tricky one. You don't want to dope your dog. Many painkillers over time cause liver damage, or stomach upset. That said, having a supply of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medications (or whatever is most relevant to your dogs type of pain) that your dog both tolerates well, and is effective, is worth its weight in gold. Some dogs will need a pill every day, especially if they have the kind of chronic pain that stays constant throughout. Others, like Talos, will need a pill during a bad spell.

We use Rimadyl  - not necessarily the best choice. But, since we only need it infrequently, it is readily available and reasonably inexpensive, Talos tolerates it well and it relieves her pain, this is our choice. It is well worth reading your medication's information leaflet. Here is the one for Rimadyl:
https://www.rimadyl.com/other-links

3. Exercise

It may sound weird to recommend exercise for pain, since usually the advice is to rest. However, especially joint pain from joints that are surrounded by muscle can be kept at bay by having exactly those muscles strong and capable of supporting the joint. This is not as easy as it sounds, however, given that your pooch is likely to be compensating for pain by avoiding the use of that (or those) joints. Also, given that your dog is in pain, and that your dog is compensating for this in various ways, the injury risk is actually quite high. If you have one available, I encourage you too consult with a doggy physiotherapist or other doggy exercise specialist to help you make, stick to and frequently evaluate an exercise plan. We have a three pronged approach, using swimming, slow, controlled leash walks, and specific exercises that if you blink, you'd think are tricks.

For swimming, we go to a fantastic hydrotherapy place where we both swim in the conventional way (into the pool you go, little pug) and walk in an underwater treadmill. As a first line of defense against muscle atrophy, this is perfect. Her weight is supported, so she can safely use the full range of motion in her limbs against a resisting force (water) that really gets those muscles working. Swimming works all her muscles, especially the core (they actually have to use their core muscles to keep their bums from sinking - good swimmers have good core muscle strength, and one of the things that makes many pugs such poor swimmers are just plain old weak muscles).  In both cases, the dogs are closely supervised and their progress is tracked and recorded.

At first, Talos did not swim very well. She's gotten much better, considerably less splashing!

Slow, controlled leash walks we do in the neighbourhood in the mornings. 30 minutes of slow, close heelwork. It can be very boring, but it can also be a lot of fun if you put some energy into it. We criss cross the roads, turning every which way, weaving around decorative lawn boulders, turning both with us in sync, or with me and dog turning in opposite directions. I add in spins (see below) and various sits/downs/stands. I heel with her on the left and right of me. Generally, I do my best to keep her engaged and happy, and generally, I succeed. Half her breakfast she earns on these walks. The benefit of slow walking is that it makes them use all four of their limbs more evenly than they do if they're at a faster pace, plus it encourages good use of the entire range of motion available to them. It really builds muscle and muscle control where those have been lost. In the interest of full disclosure, this is also the thing we cut out when Talos is having a more sore period.

Lastly, the 'tricks' we do. Some of these are stretches. Leg tucked up against her body, in full extension forward, down and back. A 'bow' stretch. A 'reach up as high as you can' stretch, for her core. We do some balance work, on a balance ball or, at hydrotherapy, on a boogie board in the pool. Both of those she enjoys. We do 'doggy pushups' sit-down-sit-down-sit-down repeat (if they keep their bum stable, this exercises their forelegs). You can do 'doggy butt-ups' too, bow-down-bow-down-bow repeat, but we're still learning bow, so we're not there yet. Give paw is a great way to get your dog weight shifting, as long as you include all four paws. Our front-right paw is super good at targeting all sorts of things... our front left paw is getting there (my girl is rather right-pawed). Our back paws... yeah. Once she realises they exist and can move independently we'll get to working on her picking them up. Lastly, we do slow, controlled spins. 'Sit pretty' or 'beg' (whatever you call the meerkat sit, where they sit on their haunches) is another really great core muscle workout, but we cannot do this one. These things are done under the recommendation of a physio - I am not suggesting a workout for anyone else.

4. Alternative therapies

We make use of a few alternative therapies to help with pain. I say 'alternative' therapy in the sense that some vets (or doctors) would only consider medication or surgery true therapies. Many of these have good research backing up their efficacy, some have hearsay only. But heck, my dog is sore, if it actually helps, onwards!

Massage, cold laser, acupuncture, chiropractics, and hot and cold therapies are what is available in our area. We have good experience with all of them aside from chiropractics, which I have not yet been able to overcome my skepticism of and actually try. A lot of research shows chiropractics does more harm than good, especially over time, and there is little support for their 'alignment' ideas of bodies, but I have to immediately veto this with the hundreds upon hundreds of dogs who have  gotten help from chiropractors. Massage is something you can learn to do at home, it stimulates blood flow and makes everything loose. Cold laser helps with pain. Acupuncture (or more accurately, dry needle, my skepticism is with me always) has seriously helped us. Talos lies down on the mat, and relaxes as the needles go in. Afterwards, there's a spring in her step and a lightness to her bearing that we only see otherwise on really good days. She's also more active, and the improvement lasts for a few days at least.

Talos at the vet, getting acupuncture. 

Hot and cold is another thing we do nearly daily. An ice pack in the morning, a hot pack in the evening. They numb pain, stimulate blood flow, and are easy to do (and can do no harm).

5. Supplements

This is another grey area. We give a joint supplement, chondroitin, glucosamine, MSM. Research here is dodgy. Some say it works, others say under double blind tests no difference can be seen in comparison with a placebo. We take this supplement because our specialists say we should, and I have not seen a difference on it (but maybe there would be one if I stopped it and found out). I've put our older dog on this same supplement, hoping that it might help with arthritis down the line  -  she currently has no issues. I am not ashamed to say that while I try my best to research these things, I also succumb to my fair share of 'try and hope'.

Another supplement often recommended is coconut oil  -  it has anti-inflammatory properties and is good for the skin/coat. And it feels nice. And tastes nice. Much love for coconut oil here.

 Spirulina has shown some promise as an alternative protein and as a supplement too.

Then there's the great mess of quackery that is also variously expensive, like 'stempets' (which we're finishing a bottle of, because some people swear it's miraculous... I've seen none of that, but I've also seen none of the bad side effects other people have ... and there's perhaps some case to be made for cyanobacteria as a supplement ... maybe). Of these, there are hundreds. I'm trying to keep an open mind. So many of my doggy friends have had results with some of these, but if you look online, so many have had bad side effects... most therapy people have some types that they prefer. That's probably the place to start.

There's also joint soup, which is rich in glucosamine/chondroitin too:
http://www.cookevet.com/2012/02/10/make-your-own-glucosaminechondroitin-tendonligament-soup-for-dogs-cats-people/

All that said, a good multi-vitamin, the best diet you can manage (which is probably not for sale at your vet's office... just saying) and nutritious treats (not the flour-and-flavourant biscuits that some people seem to think is a good idea, and probably not spray cheese or peanut butter either) will all make a difference to quality of life, if not to pain management directly.