Ask Dog Lady

Dear Dog Lady,
I work hard as a mutual fund manager and must hire a dog walker to take care of my dog, Swiffer, during the day and sometimes at night when I work late. Swiffer is really easy-going and seems to like whoever gives him a walk and feeds him. But I'm having a hard time holding on to a reliable dog walker. Seems whenever I find somebody who is good and shows up, he or she quits. What's the deal with dog walkers? How can I find a reliable one? It seems a shiftless profession.
—Scott, Santa Monica, CA

Scott, dog babysitting is more thankless than shiftless— unless somebody really does it for love, not money. Dog Lady has had a terrible time holding on to dependable dog walkers. The problem? It's one of those jobs that looks good from afar but doesn't deliver up close. For a recent graduate or a laid-off middle manager who likes animals, the thought of opening a dog walking service conjures images of owning a small business, getting out into nature, and snuggling up to warm-fuzzies instead of battling the coldhearted pinheads of Dilbert's world. Alas, the fantasy is much rosier than the reality.

To make money, a walker must walk a lot of dogs, either as a pack or one by one. Walkers on city streets hold tightly onto leashes like chariot drivers from Ben Hur as they wrangle a herd of dogs. Unless these multi-mutt walkers are supremely skilled in maintaining control, the dogs can become skittish or aggressive and the small dogs can get lost in a thicket of legs. If the dogs are walked one by one, the minder inevitably cuts corners to squeeze in more clients. Often, the center does not hold and burnout occurs. Dogs pay for the impatience. Human patrons become disgruntled, fearing for the safety of their beloved animals.

Dog Lady employed Korean sisters to take Darling out for his afternoon walk. In the beginning, they ferried him to his favourite park. They left behind charming haiku-ish notes with exclamation points: "He went into water today and ran a lot! He was like little hunter without gun!" The sisters charged very little and always seemed so cheerful.

In the Dog Lady household, we wagered such a walking wonderland probably wouldn't last. And it hasn't. The haiku dropped off to simple "yes" or "no" if Darling pooped and peed. Finally, one sister got a full-time job; the other sister announced she could only walk the dog once a week.

It's a pain to keep hiring dog sitters but there will always be a fresh supply, advertising their services on bulletin boards at the vet's office, neighbourhood pet stores or in the "pets" section on Craigslist.com. Remember to do thorough interviews. Have each candidate meet your dog. Ask for references. Do not hire anyone over the phone. Each time a new dog walker makes a fresh start, you can enjoy a few weeks of enthusiastic work, which means Swiffer will get his money's worth.

Dear Dog Lady,
My husband and I recently brought home a three-year-old Pomeranian, Wrigley, from a rescue shelter. She is a sweet girl and loves people, yet we have a burning question. Sometimes our Pom will get up next to us on the couch and just stare at us with her ears down. We pet her and kiss her but she just continues to stare. What's wrong? Are we doing something to make her nervous?
—Kerry, Chicago, IL

Kerry, you exist. This makes Wrigley nervous. But don't take it personally. Dogs' stares can sometimes be eerie and unsettling. It's as if they peer into our souls and illuminate insecurities and doubts—as Wrigley sets you and your husband on edge.

Dogs stare at us when they want something. Try chewing filet mignon with a dog in your face. They also stare to tell us what they need: "Take me out!" Or, "I'm gonna be sick!" In all likelihood, Wrigley stares at you because she's getting to know you and still figuring out the relationship. She flattens her ears in submission or insecurity because she's confused and humbled. Imagine she's thinking: "Who are these people and what do they want from me?"

The best thing you can do is have a staring contest with her. Stare back and hold your gaze until Wrigley averts her eyes. This is the silent sign of respect your dog gives you, which means she accepts you as her leader. Once she looks away, rub her tummy to let her know you're a very nice boss. (Kisses really don't do it for dogs. It's all about the belly rub).

Dear Dog Lady,
About a year and a half before I moved to San Francisco, I adopted Maltball, a short, squat, brown-haired mix from a shelter in Nevada. All I knew about her was that she'd been surrendered by someone who had moved out of state and she'd probably do best in a home without children. Maltball has turned out to be a total sweetheart. She's very well behaved and friendly. When I recently went back to Nevada to visit my sister, I dropped by the shelter where I got Maltball. We were chatting and one of the staffers dropped the bomb that Maltball had been given to the shelter by an attorney after the owner was convicted of murder.

My Maltball was raised and named by a murderer. I wonder if she witnessed the crime itself. This shouldn't make a difference, right? I can't help being shaken by the news.
—Mary, San Francisco, CA

Mary: nope, shouldn't make a difference at all, although Dog Lady completely understands your tremors. Silent, sad-eyed dogs are not transparent. They reflect back to us all our fears and joys. Looking into Maltball's face and wondering what she knows has probably become more laden with mystery. Please understand your dog is not tainted. She's Mary's angel with a sugary name. And who knows? The murderer's softest spot might have been his or her care for Maltball.

Dog Lady chides the gossipy shelter worker who spilled this juicy but irrelevant tidbit. Ideally, shelter staffers should relay only cogent behavioural information from the history of an adoptee animal to better guide a new caretaker. Forget about your dog's past. You've saved Maltball from death row and given her a new life sentence. This satisfaction alone should overwhelm any creepiness.

Dear Dog Lady,
My eight-month-old Border Terrier, Fenway, has recently taken to short bursts of extreme energy, running frantically around my house and chasing his tail. The rest of the day he lounges and sleeps. He gets a three-mile walk four times a week, and spends 30 to 45 minutes of play time outside on the other days, in addition to his normal bathroom walks. Should I be concerned that the frantic running and the tail chasing indicate a mental issue?
—Rebecca, Boston, MA

Rebecca, should Dog Lady be concerned about her dear dog's mental state when he runs frantically around the house grappling a tattered stuffed animal before attempting to bury the rag baby in the couch cushion? Probably—if he had two legs. But he's of the four-legged variety and this crazy stuff is what they do. Fenway's tail chasing is harmless provided he doesn't display any aggression such as snarling or tail biting. If he exhibits such ferocities, you should take him to a veterinarian.

Congratulations on giving Fenway such a rich outdoor life. Threemile walks and lots of play time are a puppy's delight. You tire him out enough so he sleeps contentedly through most of the day, except, of course, for that frantic tail chase. Chalk it up to exuberant puppy loopiness.

Dear Dog Lady,
I have a nine-year-old son. We have had our dog for 18 months. I am going through a divorce and my soon-to-be ex hates the dog. I have him at my new house but we are never home. I hate leaving the dog, Blue, kenneled up all day and sometimes till late in the evening. I have tried to get my son to give up the dog but he loves the dog. My son is only with me every other week. I am losing an income with the divorce and don't feel I can handle the expense. I also don't have the time for the dog. How do I break the news to my son without him hating me? Do I say the dog ran away?
—Jenni, Vancouver, BC

Jenni, please do your research and find a very good home for Blue. Put an ad in the local newspaper, post on petfinder.com, and/or contact your local no-kill (important) animal shelter for assistance.

You are not providing a good life for this dog, even if your son is attached to it every other week. Dog Lady gives you this advice reluctantly because she knows the dog may represent the only warm and stable creature in your son's life right now since you and his father (who hates the dog) are divorcing. However, for the dog's health and future happiness, separation from your unstable family is probably the best course.

Blue is young and will be fine. Your son is young and he will be fine too—as long as you talk over this situation with him as sensitively as you can. Lead him to the conclusion that a constantly caged-up dog—one who only has fun with your son every other week—is not a happy animal. Involve your son in finding a new good home for Blue. Telling him the dog ran away or was sent to the proverbial "farm in the country" is too easy. If your child finds out the truth, he could be even more traumatized. You want him to learn how to care responsibly for dependent creatures, not sleaze out of situations. Deal with this situation soon so as not to prolong the pain.

Visit askdoglady.com to ask a question or make a comment.