| Main Feature Story - Friday, June 22, 2007
Feature: Our K9 kids
Are Marinites taking the man's-best-friend concept too far?
by Jacob Shafer
Little Russ is having problems fitting in. He's running around with his peers in an open field trying his best to keep up, but the bigger ones keep shoving him aside. His mother, Daphne Aldridge, looks on from the sidelines with a pained expression, resisting the urge to get involved.
"He's got to learn to work it out on his own," she says, her voice shaking slightly.
Even as the words escape her lips, things start to look up for Russ—he finds a friend his own size and the two frolic off together. In no time, they're contentedly sniffing each other's backsides.
Daphne smiles. "Good boy!"
Russ is a Jack Russell terrier mix. Aldridge—who lives in Mill Valley, not far from the dog park where she takes Russ every afternoon—adopted him three years ago from the Marin Humane Society, and the two have been inseparable ever since.
"I got Russ during a rough period in my life," remembers Aldridge. "As soon as I saw him, it was like this light went on. He understands me; we do everything together; he's always there. I think we comfort each other. Maybe it sounds weird, but he gets me more than most humans."
For many people in Marin, there's nothing weird about the bond Russ and Daphne share. Take a trip to any of the county's myriad dog parks and you'll see scores of adoring owners and their groomed, well-fed companions. Lots of these animals aren't looked at merely as pets, but rather as valued members of the family—and they're treated accordingly.
The same is true nationwide. Figures indicate that in the U.S., household spending on pets has increased nearly 20 percent after inflation over the last five years. And not all of that money is going toward kibble and leashes. New products aimed at four-legged consumers—or, more accurately, their willing masters—pop up all the time: gourmet treats, clothing, specialty toys. Last year, a company called PetCell introduced the first cell phone for dogs.
Some see this uptick in pet spending as a direct result of the "empty nest" syndrome. As the children of Baby Boomers head off to college and the workforce, a void is created. Some fill it with travel and hobbies, while others may channel their nurturing instincts onto their pets.
"Parenting isn't something you can just turn on and off like a faucet," says Clara Hall, a psychologist and family counselor whose forthcoming book is focused on the ways people integrate animals into their emotional lives. "It's a deep-seated drive that stays with people, even after their kids have left home. So when baby grows up, we look for another outlet and pets can provide this. They require our love and care and are, in a lot of ways, helpless without us—just like a child."
And, Hall says, it isn't only parents with grown-up kids who gravitate toward pets. "Childless adults, those who've lost a loved one and, obviously, everyday people wanting companionship—there are all kinds who turn to pets to meet a need, or occupy a role."
Hall, like other psychologists who study the phenomenon, emphasizes that there's nothing inherently negative about this emotional transference. In fact, it can be a very healthy thing. They don't call dogs "man's best friend" for no reason.
At the same time, the way some people treat their furry friends may seem a bit odd to the outsider. Activist groups like PETA have gone so far as to label the most extreme forms of pet personification animal cruelty.
"Paris Hilton puts her Chihuahua in a tutu and puts it in her handbag and it becomes a fashion statement," says Hall. "We have dogs being made into accessories rather than living creatures, and that's a problem—for the people and even more so for the dogs. But there are also people who lavish goodies on their animals or pay for expensive medical treatments, say, who are great pet owners and well-adjusted individuals."
Sarah Mullen, a certified behavior consultant who operates the Marin-based training center Lily's Legacy, agrees that there's nothing wrong with spending on your pet, so long as it's channeled in the right direction. "Some people invest money and energy into things that aren't meaningful to the dog," she says, citing doggie birthday parties as an example, "and then don't spend where it would be helpful." At the same time, she adds, the majority of dog owners are well-meaning and have mostly healthy attitudes toward their pets, even if they need a little guidance.
But where is the line between healthy and unhealthy? Is it possible to pamper your pooch rotten? And, if so, where is the balance struck between wanting to love and care for Fido and yet not going over the top? There may be no better place than Marin to find out.
• • • •
A CURSORY GLANCE through the Yellow Pages or a drive down any main drag in the county quickly reveals the wide array of services that cater to dogs and their owners. There are the "normal" stores that deal in the basics—food, beds, chew toys, anti-flea and tick medicine. Then there are the more specialized shops that offer grooming and hard-to-find, generally very expensive products, plus services like walking and pet-sitting. At least one business promises pet portraits that will serve as "a loving tribute to your best friend."
And then there's the far end of the spectrum, things that may leave non-dog owners scratching their heads, but that a segment of pet owners swear by. One example is Pilates for Pooches, a DVD put out by Andrew Sams and Sarah Johnson of the Andrew Sams Clinic in Mill Valley, which provides orthopedic care for canines.
Johnson, a canine rehab specialist, was at the forefront of the Pilates movement in California in the early '90s. She worked exclusively with people for a time, but eventually got the idea to transfer the technique to dogs. After acquiring the proper training, she joined up with Sams about two-and-a-half years ago, offering canine Pilates and core training as well as therapeutic massage.
"Most owners are amazed at what I can get their dogs to do using positive reinforcement," says Johnson, adding that "a good trainer never forces a dog to do anything it doesn't want to do."
Johnson says she treats all kinds of dogs—from pups injured during rough play at the park to fine-tuned canine athletes. In all cases, she points out, a total understanding of the way dogs work both mentally and physically is necessary. "Good communication is the key. I can't just say to a dog, 'Here's what we're going to do,' the way I could with a person, so I have to understand the way they think."
Johnson says she realizes the idea of Pilates for Pooches might seem a bit odd at first but that the service she provides is "so different from the places where they paint the dog's toenails."
Donnie Smith of San Rafael used to run a dog grooming service in San Francisco. He's since moved away from what he calls the "doggie doodling business," though he still owns a pair of toy poodles, Max and Allie. He says he loves working with dogs, but gave it up because of the intolerable owners he sometimes encountered.
"Most people are great," he qualifies, before launching into a semi-tirade against what he has dubbed "the NPAs"—Neurotic, Pampering, [expletives].
"There are some people who have this insanely inflated sense of their own worth and so that transfers to their dog," he says with an audible sigh. "I would get clients who were convinced I'd emotionally scarred little Froo Froo because I used a brand of shampoo she wasn't used to. Dogs aren't that complicated, which is why I love them. It's people who are [screwed] up."
Even as he says this, Smith freely admits he's thrown parties for his dogs and loves to dress them up. But he sees a clear line between that kind of behavior and actually thinking of—and treating—your dog as a human being.
"I know they're dogs," he says with a wave of the hand. "When I do these things, I understand it's as much or more for my amusement. But [my dogs] are also well-trained, well-behaved, mellow—because most of the time we do things like dog and master, and I keep those boundaries defined. That's the difference between those of us who enjoy some fun and the people that wind up [messing] these poor animals up beyond repair."
• • • •
THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN humans and dogs traces back at least to the Mesolithic period, some 12,000 years ago. Man had begun to band together in tribes, and a natural symbiotic relationship with roving canines developed. Dogs enjoyed the scraps of food humans left behind, while the dogs' tendency to bark and bare their teeth at intruders no doubt proved a valuable asset in the ancient wilds.
Over the years, the man-canine bond continued to strengthen. Humans moved out of caves and took up agriculture and animal husbandry. Fossils uncovered in parts of the European subcontinent show that dogs had become fully domesticated by the Neolithic period. Once people realized the value of domesticated dogs and began catching wild puppies, they no doubt sought out animals with favorable physical and behavioral characteristics, suited to various tasks.
As the centuries passed, man-made modifications became more and more specific. Some breeds—like shepherds and retrievers—served an obvious, practical purpose. Others were created and perpetuated for their appearance, to serve less as helpful servants and more as adorable accouterments for the well-heeled.
Today, there are somewhere around 500 distinct dog breeds, each with its own set of highly specific standards. Lineage and history, appearance, temperament, use and gait are all taken into consideration when classifying breeds—and when judging them at the numerous competitions and shows staged worldwide.
People and their dogs—it's a relationship that's been honed down through the centuries, making it easy to see why many owners take their role so seriously, and why the line between two- and four-legged creature is sometimes blurred.
Tim Stein and his wife Janice, former professional dog breeders who now live in West Marin with their three German shepherds—poetically dubbed Ginsberg, Whitman and Yeats—understand this as well as anyone.
"We first became interested in dogs because of the history," says Tim. "This is a friendship that goes all the way back to the beginning, in an unprecedented way for two species that are so different. When we got our first two pups—they were collies—we did research on the breed and how it developed and what its purpose used to be and all that. Once we got into breeding it opened things up even more and we just fell in love with this whole process. Dogs can really teach you a terrific amount about yourself."
Asked if she thinks people in Marin and elsewhere spoil their pets, Janice expresses mostly sympathy toward what some might call overindulgent owners.
"Dogs aren't people, but they're special for a different set of reasons," she says. "Personally, I don't put my dogs in sweaters or take them to get their nails done or anything like that, but I wouldn't say that people who do are crazy or that it's always bad for the dog. Dogs thrive on affection as long as [it's coupled with] consistent discipline and a healthy environment. So I think 90 percent of people who indulge their dogs are just fine."
Tim takes things a step further. "There's however many millions of dogs getting euthanized every year [about 2 million annually in the U.S., according to the ASPCA]. So no, I'm not going to come down on someone who feeds and loves their dog and then puts a party hat on him and gives him a meat cake with trick candles or something."
Asked if he's ever thrown a birthday bash for any of his dogs, Tim chuckles. "Can't say I have." Then, after a thoughtful pause, "But Whitman's got the big one-oh coming up, so maybe this is the year."
• • • •
LITTLE RUSS HAS finished up with play time. His new friend, a pug named Ollie, has already gone home and Russ and Daphne are preparing to do the same. As she puts on his collar, Daphne reflects on her relationship with Russ even as he looks up and gently licks her cheek.
"I've had people tell me that I see Russ too much like a kid," she says. "I don't think of him as a person. I love him as a dog, but maybe as much as some people love other people." And, Daphne adds emphatically, she doesn't think that's abnormal.
Neither do many dog experts. Sarah Mullen says there's nothing wrong with loving a dog as much as you might love a person, so long as you understand how best to treat them. And, contrary to what some trainers and behaviorists preach, Mullen says the key isn't to "become a dog" or adopt a "pack leader" persona. Dogs are smart enough to see right through this; they know we're not the same as them. Rather, Mullen says, owners should "treat [dogs] like another species that needs to learn to live with our species."
Dogs aren't wolves roaming free through the wild. They live in human society, with all the uniquely modern perils that entails. Given this, Mullen says, it's an oversimplification to state the choice as "treating a dog like a human" and "treating a dog like a dog," insofar as that means treating them like an untamed creature.
Mullen also points out that it's a misconception to think of dogs as "simple," preferring instead the term "straightforward."
"They are most likely not thinking about things like quantum physics or what someone else thinks of their haircut," she says. "In some ways, however, they've been scientifically proven to be much more complex than most people have any idea of." For those wishing to learn more about the inner workings of the doggie mind, Mullen recommends For the Love of a Dog by Patricia McConnell, Ph.D.
"Humans and dogs both come domesticated, but not civilized," says Mullen. "What I hear that drives me crazy almost every time I go somewhere like a dog park are the same mistaken and over-simplified ideas about dog behavior. People impose all kinds of ridiculous and often counterproductive stuff onto dogs. The [biggest] problem from my point of view is people buying into ways of looking at dogs that, while completely 'non-human,' are just as completely off-base."
Adds Clara Hall, "People who take dogs in for various reasons can let their emotions swing them too far in either direction—trying too hard to make a dog into a person, or alternately not accepting that this animal is a part of their life and they have to find ways to integrate it so everyone is emotionally content."
Asked if she ever worries she may not really understand Russ as well as she thinks, Daphne shakes her head. "I love him and I know he loves me."
As with any relationship, that's a pretty good start.
Canines vs. Kiddies
Baby Boomers with empty nests, single adults, couples who have, for one reason or another, not had children—there are all kinds of people who cohabit with dogs instead of kids. But what are the advantages—and disadvantages—of this arrangement?
Let's take a look at a few of the pros and cons:
Pros: 1. Dogs can be trained to always go—and stay—where you tell them
2. Dogs won't hit you up for cash and the car keys on a Friday night
3. Dogs will still be seen in public with you when they reach the teen years
4. You can put a dog on a leash without getting weird looks
5. No awkward birds and bees discussion
Cons: 1. Unpredictable poop and constant gnawing: kids outgrow this
2. Dogs don't do chores
3. Unless he becomes a Kibbles 'n Bits model, your dog will never grow up to support you financially
4. Your dog will never understand when you say, "When I was your age..." (for that matter, neither will your kid)
5. You'll miss out on that wonderful birds and bees discussion
—Jacob Shafer
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