For Meg, Jess, and too many others.

Today your dog died.  You didn’t know, you weren’t there.  She died broken and sad.

But she didn’t die alone.  Someone else took your place, provided that last kind word, last stroke, last touch.  Someone else held her close, talked to her as she slipped away, felt her muscles relax for the last time, heard her last breath, shed a tear on her soft fur.  Someone else made sure your dog died with dignity, with care, and told her it would be ok now, all her worries were over.

Today your dog died.  You didn’t know, you weren’t there.  You couldn’t have known, you never asked.  You opted out, let her down, walked away.  After all those faithful years you passed her on, out of sight out of mind.  You signed a form, handed over a few pounds to silence your conscience, and it was done, no longer your dog, someone else would take responsibility now.

You had a dog, once.

Did you tell us the whole truth, when you brought her into the rescue centre?  Should we give you the benefit of the doubt?  Did you really think she was ok, and we could find her a new home?  Or did you just want to push the uncomfortable decisions to one side, let someone else deal with it?  Did you not see?  Did you know she was struggling, and you couldn’t face it?  Did you really not know she needed you then more than ever?

We would have tried anything we could for your dog.  But she was too broken.  In the end we were all she had, but it wasn’t enough, we were strangers and she wanted her best friend.  We set her free, and she looked for you, but you never came.

Today your dog died, and you will never know.

Passengers

I have found people often express surprise that out of the five or six dogs in our van only a couple actually compete - what are they all for, if they do not all compete?  After all, if our hobby is agility, surely we only need agility dogs?

If we didn't have so many non-agility passengers we wouldn't need a van, we could drive a normal car like normal people.  But is it really the agility that is the reason we have six dogs?  Are we, in fact, normal?

None of our dogs are acquired just for agility.  I walk, feed, brush, talk to, stroke, laugh at, play with all of my dogs multiple times during the week for every tiny bit of agility I do with my "agility dogs".  If I didn't like living with multiple dogs it wouldn't make any difference how much I enjoyed agility, I wouldn't have dogs I didn't want just for a few minutes of agility each week

I have also been told we should have normal holidays, that don't involve agility, or even that don't involve the dogs.  Wierd idea.

Camping at a show is like a little mini-holiday with my dogs.  No tv, no computer, we spend a lot of time sat around together in the caravan or garden.  We also do lovely long walks in new places and meet lots of friends and their dogs - things the passengers enjoy just as much as the competing dogs.

The retired dogs are the history, teachers, happy memories, companions and comfort.

The youngsters are the future, hopes, the potential of good things to come, challenges and entertainment. 

The passengers are the oldies that are retired, the injured, the youngsters in training, the puppy.  They may be past agility dogs or future agility dogs, or just not suitable for agility dogs, but they are still my dogs.  

Mum?

What are you to your dog?

It seems many otherwise apparently rational people are defining themselves as "mum" in this dog-human relationship. Can we just think about that for a second?

I am not a parent. Nor am I a "dog parent". I have utmost respect for those who are parents, and I would never presume to compare the responsibility of owning a dog with the responsibility of having a child. I would never say the relationship I have with one of my dogs is comparable to the relationship between me and my parents - I think that concept is fairly insulting whichever way you look at it.

Any parent who routinely left their child home alone for several hours, put a tag on their neck in case they got lost, refused to let them on furniture, hosed them off after running naked in the mud, fed them off the floor, and made them travel in cages in the car would have some pretty serious questions to answer.

I confess I cringe when I hear trainers say "go to mummy" or "listen to your dad". The other day someone told me my training advice was not relevant as my lifestyle was "different to Benji's mum". Well I should darn well hope so, as Benji's mum was a dog.

I am not my dogs' mother, I did not give birth to them and I do not expect them to grow up to carry on the family name or organise family birthday parties. I do not expect them go to university, vote, get jobs or National Insurance numbers. They are dogs. I expect them to act like dogs, look like dogs, think like dogs, play like dogs, sound and smell like dogs. Do I even need to start listing the ways your children should not act, look, think, play, sound or smell like dogs?

So what am I? What are my dogs to me?

Legally I am an owner. My dogs are possessions, chattels; I can sell, give or will them to whoever I choose. Legally I am responsible for their behaviour, and I am not permitted to let them out alone - does that make me their keeper?

Legally and morally I am also responsible for their welfare and wellbeing - a concept that cannot be applied to your car, even if you give it a name and insist it has a personality.

Dogs are capable of their own thoughts, feelings and decisions, and capable of responding to my emotions. Ethically I could never view something that interacts in a two way relationship as merely a possession. They know if I am happy, sad, disappointed, tired, excited, nervous, and in turn their emotions can influence mine. I let them run free, and they choose to return home with me, they like being with me, they feel safe with me.

I am not a pack leader, as my dogs are not a pack, but I must be some kind of a leader. I control access to resources - the freezer, walks, toys. I decide where and when we walk or play, when and what we eat, and what we watch on TV. But I am a benevolent leader, I think; I certainly aim to respect my dogs' preferences and feelings wherever possible. I aim for them to trust me and to cooperate without force, I negotiate not dictate.

I am also a playmate. Long before we get anywhere near agility my dogs play with me. We invent our own rules, each dog plays differently, they have their own quirks, but so do I, they learn to share toys, they learn there are boundaries, and I love to see them having fun.

In agility, well that is just another game, but when it goes well, we are a team. The level of communication in getting a dog accurately around a tricky course at full speed is an amazing feeling, it does not happen overnight, and it certainly doesn't happen every time I step into the ring.

What else is my relationship with my dogs? I hope, most of all, a friend. When Alf leans on my legs and tips his head back to gaze at me, when Basil curls up in the non-existent gap between me and the chair arm just to be close, I think it is because they love me, and they know I love them.

My dogs, my friends.

Alan Titchmarsh

I don't make a habit of watching Alan Titchmarsh's afternoon show - apart from anything else I am normally at work - but even as an ambivalent non-viewer I was sorry to hear he was having the notorious Cesar Millan as a guest on his show.

As someone who finds Cesar Millan's programmes, methods and influence an ongoing and depressing problem in both my work rehoming rescue dogs and my hobby teaching pet dogs, I was disappointed to hear that another TV show was giving him airtime.  I assumed he would use this time to blind us with his white teeth (certainly not with science), and to promote his upcoming arena tour.

That may well have been Cesar's intention, but what happened was something quite different, and quite unexpected.

If it hadn't been for the heads up on various dog forums I would not have watched it at all.  But from the comments I was seeing from people I know and trust, I knew I had to see it and finally at 7pm I got onto Youtube to see what all the fuss was about.

I sat through the first few minutes unimpressed, this was standard Cesar, his humble beginnings, his journey to the USA, his belief that he has a natural understanding of dogs, his psychology centre.  He is charming, he has a(n allegedly) cute accent, he smiles a lot.  Usually I would have switched off by now.

Then fluffy, cuddly, mild little Alan Titchmarsh surprised me, surprised a nation of dog lovers, and quietly stood up for dogs everywhere.  When Alan described what he had seen in videos, dogs being punched and kicked, he mentioned spike and electric collars, and from his actions and body language I could tell he had watched the footage and watched the dogs, and he had felt for those dogs being hurt.

Alan came across as very genuine, very sincere, and that is what worked.  He is not an expert on dogs or dog training, he spoke as "normal bloke" who likes dogs, has a pet dog, he found what he saw to be "unacceptable" and the methods "barbaric".  He hardly raised his voice, he used no jargon, and he asked some very straightforward questions.

Cesar failed to give any meaningful answers.  My favourite part was when asked why he didn't use food rewards, he offered a totally random anecdote about a parrot.

By the end I was tearful, choked up, something totally unlike me.  I went and posted a thank you on the show's facebook page - again something totally unlike me.

Thank you on behalf of my dogs?  What kind of soppy bunnyhugging nonsense is that? 

When you have personally worked with so many dogs who flinch away from hands, who are scared of having any collar on, who run away from the sight of a clicker thinking it is a shock collar remote control, when you see a puppy pinned for hanging on to a toy, dogs who have been taught not to growl, taught that no-one listens when they are scared, who have been labelled aggressive, unrehomable, and when you have seen how hard it is to rebuild their trust, and still years down the line there is a memory and a fear, and you know it was all absolutely avoidable, then you might understand. 

People who copy Cesar's methods damage dogs.  I know this first hand.  I have never met a dog Cesar himself has worked with, but I know that despite what it says on the screen people do try the things they see him do, they try their own interpretations, and their relationship with their dog suffers.  I have met plenty of dogs damaged by his methods.

Often the owners damage themselves too, as they do not have his quick reactions and instinct to protect themselves - often they get bitten.

This is not a hate campaign, this is not personal, and unlike the vocal minority on certain newspaper websites today, I certainly don't want to torture Cesar Millan or even shout at him.  I want to educate him.  This is about making a choice to use humane, scientifically proven, kind, effective training.  In conjunction with good management, it works. 

Yesterday could be the turning of the tide, it is time society saw through these outdated ways of training dogs, not just the scientists, the trainers, the experts, but all of us, dog owners and non-dog owners alike.

Well done, Alan, very well done!