Jennifer Arnold - In a Dogs Heart: What Our Dogs Need, Want, and Deserve—and the Gifts We Can Expect in Return

PROLOGUE:
In Their Heart of Hearts

CHAPTER ONE
What Dogs Want

CHAPTER TWO
The Gift of Good Health

CHAPTER THREE
Keeping Our Dogs Healthy

CHAPTER FOUR
Veterinary Health

CHAPTER FIVE
Safe Havens

CHAPTER SIX
Worldly Dangers

CHAPTER SEVEN
Inner Dangers

CHAPTER EIGHT
Teaming Up

CHAPTER NINE
Pick of the Litter

CHAPTER TEN
Adopting an Adult Dog

CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Ties That Bind

CHAPTER TWELVE
Better Together

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Canine Contentment

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Reason Enough

APPENDIX A:
Veterinary Emergencies

APPENDIX B:
Common Household Toxins

APPENDIX C:
Desensitization and Counterconditioning for Dogs Exhibiting Specific-Object Guarding

APPENDIX D:
Teaching the Gentle Mouth to an Adult Dog

APPENDIX E:
The Super Dog Protocol

APPENDIX F:
Socialization Checklist

APPENDIX G:
Teaching the Tug and Retrieve

APPENDIX H:
Desensitization Schedule for Mild Separation Anxiety

Id first noticed the anxious mother when my dog Butch and I arrived at our departure gate at the massive Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. She was near the boarding area, jiggling a crying baby and holding the hand of a beautiful little girl who appeared to be about three years old. Looking at the sea of people crowded around the entrance to the jetway, I decided to give Butch a drink of water and a few treats before attempting to board the plane. After filling his bowl, I glanced back at the young mother. She was trying to get the busy gate agents attention, undoubtedly to ask if she and her children could preboard to get settled, but the crowd was blocking her from his view. The baby was now quiet, still in her mothers arms, but I could no longer see the little girl. Just at that moment, Butch pulled away from me, weaving through the sea of legs surrounding the boarding area. I scrambled along in his wake.

When I finally caught up, I found him nuzzling the little girl whod gone missing. The mom and I had reached the pair simultaneously, and upon seeing her mother, the child pitifully wailed, Mommy, I got lost but this saver dog came to help me. Then she wrapped her arms around Butchs neck and started crying. After a few deep sobs, she snuffled out a little giggle and said, He has a really big head. As the mom watched Butch tenderly snuggle with her little girl, a look of understanding came over her face. In that instant, she recognized the profound impact Butch was having on her daughter. In a very quiet and serious tone, she said, I suspect this dog has an even bigger heart.

She was absolutely correct. Butch has a huge heart. I was fortunate enough to tour for my first book, Through a Dogs Eyes, with Butch beside me every step of the way. He might be the kindest, most patient creature I have ever known. He graciously greeted hundreds of people, even though there were times when he was so tired hed fall asleep standing up, between greetings. Bigger than all of Texas is my Butchs heart. But then, I suspect that most dogs have big hearts.

After the airport incident, I couldnt stop thinking about the heart of a dog. Not the actual heart that pumps blood, but the metaphoric heart: the very essence of the individual. I thought about the fact that my mom used the expression in my heart of hearts when she wanted to convey her seriousness about a particular matter. I was amazed when, at my very next book signing, a lovely older woman asked me, What do you think dogs really want, in their heart of hearts? Before I could tell her that Id been thinking about that for days, her husband asked, And why should I pay for it? We all laughed, but the more I thought about it, the more I recognized that these were valid questions.

What do dogs want and need in their heart of hearts, and why does it behoove us to give it to them? My short answer to the womans question is, Dogs simply want to be happy, and they want us to be happy with them. My answer to her husbands question is, Their value to our world far exceeds whatever they might cost us!

Hes just a baby, the woman told me. But he seems so withdrawn. A rescue group had taken in the mixed-breed dog and requested that I evaluate his potential for rehabilitation and rehoming. The dog, Otter, had gotten himself into trouble by growling at the people who owned him. As Otter climbed out of a big SUV, I could see that he was young, and despite the fact that he was wearing a basket muzzle, he hardly looked aggressive. His paws and head were entirely too big for his bony body, and he seemed to have difficulty coordinating all four of his lanky legs. However, when I looked into his eyes, any resemblance to a puppy quickly disappeared. They belonged to a much older soul, one that was not so much angry as it was weary.

I knelt sideways in front of Otter, my gaze averted, allowing him to determine whether it was safe to approach me. We stayed motionless for several long minutes. Finally, he took two small steps toward me, lowering his head, resigned to whatever fate awaited him. I did not want Otter to approach in fear, so I slowly inched away.

Maybe we can get Otter to follow another dog into the building, I suggested to the woman holding the puppys long leash. I knew from the rescue groups intake form that his owners, an older couple, had used a trainer to help teach Otter his house manners. The trainer had advised the couple to squirt hot sauce in the dogs face when he jumped up to greet them. She also provided a remote shock collar, to be used when he did something they considered inappropriate. So it was clear that Otter was scared to death of people. As we stood in the driveway at Canine Assistants, the nonprofit I founded that provides service dogs to people with disabilities, I knew the only comfort I could offer him was the companionship of another dog.