Dog Service Network, LLC

In the wild, a lone dog has little chance of survival. It is in increased danger from other predators; it has little chance of success at the hunt. It’s a wonder that a species as dependent on the pack as the dog can adapt to being alone at all!

It has been observed in wild dogs that the mother dog will periodically move from one den to another. She will move the pups one at a time, choosing a different one each time to be left alone in the new den or in the previous den. In so doing, she is teaching her pups to have a tolerance to being alone.

Read the rest of this entry »

Some dogs can’t resist a tasty morsel of feces. These dogs will eat their own excrement or that of another dog. Some prefer horse feces, others cat feces. Frozen feces are popular in the winter time. Why do dogs do this?

In the past it was believed that feces eating, also known as coprophagia, was caused by either poor diet or poor health. However, this theory is not supported by current research. “Behavioral research has discounted the idea that it is a dietary deficiency or a pancreatic enzyme deficiency,” says Dr. Jo Ann Eurell, a veterinarian and animal behavior specialist at the University of Illinois College of Veterinary Medicine. “Dogs are historically scavengers, and this is believed to be a scavenger behavior.

Read the rest of this entry »

The slapping water against the hull of your boat, as you rock back and forth in the bay, lulls your mind to a quiet, peaceful place. You’ve anchored down for the night, the kids are all snuggled safely in their bunks and your spouse is snoring softly beside you. Your mind drifts off with dreams of the big fish you and the kids will be catching come sunrise, the way the salt air will stimulate your senses and renew your love for the outdoors. You doze off peacefully…suddenly, you hear a small, insistent whine somewhere off the starboard side of your bunk. “What is it, Boy? Did Timmy fall down the well?” you ask in a dream-like state. That whine is replaced by a more insistent cold, wet pointy object now jabbing at your shoulder. Somewhere between Dreamland and Reality, you realize your son’s name isn’t Timmy and you don’t have a well. “Uh-Mmmm,” you mutter, “Is someone breaking into the house?” Determined to rouse you, your faithful friend emits a sharp and urgent, “Rarrff!” and jumping up, lands two paws and 20 pounds right in the middle of your abdomen.

Read the rest of this entry »