New Dog

Introduction So you're getting a new dog, are you? Do you realize what you're in for, and how much precious time you'll have to invest in the hairy monster? More likely, you've already done the deed. As the rambunctious creature disrupts your life, are you wondering how on earth you'll ever get your sanity back? Some of you know I've written quite a few books about dogs their history, variety, health and nutrition; about how they think; and why, when training one, it's vital to understand how its mind works. These books are published around the world, so some of the information in them must seem useful, but when (for the first time ever) I found myself e-mailing chapters of New Dog to clients, before I'd even sent what I'd written to my editor, I knew this would be a really practical book, especially for people who think they're getting a new dog but are, in fact, getting a new puppy, which is an utterly different species. New Dog could equally be called New Dog Owner because what follows is as much about us as it is about dogs. I did my seven years of veterinary training but realized the blindingly obvious only after I'd entered clinical practice: that almost everything about a dog, especially its health and behavior, is intertwined with us. The luckiest dogs end up in homes with people who understand that they have to invest time, up front, to earn the extraordinarily wonderful rewards that come from living with a canine companion. That's why I've devoted the start of the book to decision-making. Are you sure that a dog can fit into your present or anticipated lifestyle? If your life can accommodate a dog, are you thinking about the right type for you and your family? Rather than just winging it, when getting a new pup or a recycled, rescued dog, have you done your homework, prepared your home and planned how to integrate your new dog into your home, your family, your neighborhood, your life? I'm not bashful about admitting that I love dogs. I've been a clinical vet for almost 40 years, so I'm a bit of a silverback male. I've got a warm, close family and all the rewards that go with that good luck, but even so, dogs wondrously augment life. There's something about the immutable constancy and fidelity of a dog that's deeply reassuring. Dogs are honest -- sometimes painfully so -- with their emotions. You can trust their integrity, and believe what you see in their expressive eyes. I guess I'm a true dogaholic because, to me, even a smelly, wrinkled, stiff-legged old-timer has a natural dignity, even beauty, about him. During the time I've been a vet I've watched the intensity of our relationship with dogs heighten. The reasons for our increasing dependency upon the rewards that dogs give us are another story, but if you think this bond of friendship is a product of modern Western affluence, think again. It's an integral part of human nature that all people are suckers for puppies. In 1828, a major in the British Army visiting Stradbroke Island off the coast of Queensland, Australia, saw a dingo pup he admired for its unusual dark color, and he tried to buy it from its Aborigine owner. Major Lockyer wrote in his diary: "I was very anxious to get one of the wild native breed of black colour, a very handsome puppy, which one of the men had in his arms. I offered him a small axe for it; his companions urged him to take it, and he was about to do so, when he looked at the dog and the animal licked his face, which settled the business. He shook his head and determined to keep him." We're all suckers for the lick on the face. That's a puppy behavior we've intentionally perpetuated into adulthood in many dogs. My own Golden Retriever, Macy, was never much of a face-licker but filled our lives in other ways. Indoors she was a quiet and reassuring preseFogle, Bruce is the author of 'New Dog', published 2008 under ISBN 9781554073566 and ISBN 1554073561.