Andrew Lupton
National Post
Saturday, April 26, 2003
Consider for a moment what could be the greatest threat to your young dog's life. Rabies? Being hit by a car? Retired veterinarian Dr. Don McKeown suggests bad behaviour, as opposed to failing health or an accident, is just as likely to spell an early end to your dog.
"Behaviour problems are the number-one reason dogs under two years old are euthanized or abandoned," says Dr. McKeown, who taught small animal surgery and later specialized in animal behaviour at the Ontario Veterinary College at the University of Guelph.
These days, busy people who want a dog often expect the animal will automatically obey every command. If the dog is poorly behaved, it can shatter an otherwise positive dog-owning experience and force families to face that awful decision.
The Lesser family of London, Ont., learned this the hard way. In 1988, they bought Cleo, a female Dalmatian puppy.
"She was a bad dog from day one," Jack Lesser says. "She did awful things. She was a real terror."
For the Lessers and their unfortunate neighbours, Cleo's rap sheet is now the stuff of legend.
She was a habitual and accomplished door-dasher. Once free, she was impossible to corral and ran rampant through the neighbourhood, howling, getting into garbage and chasing other dogs.
Inside the house, she climbed furniture, chased the cat and sniffed crotches with such alacrity, visitors often quickly found excuses to leave.
Of all her bad acts, stealing food was Cleo's forte. She snatched entire chickens from counters and while running at top speed in a nearby park, picked hot dogs from the hands of unsuspecting picnickers.
At the family's cottage, she jumped through the neighbour's screen door to steal a raw steak from the kitchen table.
There were early attempts to train Cleo. All ended in failure.
"She was one of two dogs who failed her obedience class," Mr. Lesser says. "The other dog bit the instructor."
The Lessers hoped Cleo's behaviour would improve once she passed the puppy stage. Five years later in 1993, as the family hosted a holiday party, Cleo escaped from confinement in the laundry room and, in seconds, devoured an entire plate of chocolates. She fell unconscious with chocolate poisoning; a late-night stomach pumping at the animal emergency room saved her life. "That one cost me $500," Mr. Lesser says.
Shortly after this and other incidents, Mr. Lesser, his wife, Jan, and daughter, Lila, found themselves in the kitchen taking a vote on whether or not to have Cleo euthanized. Cleo lost the vote, 2-1, with Mr. Lesser casting the lone vote against. Despite Cleo's bad behaviour, Mr. Lesser, a retired lawyer, had grown to appreciate her independent mind, however criminal. There were tears at the table and he begged the family to give Cleo another chance.
Dr. McKeown says the Lessers' difficult decision is one many distraught dog owners find themselves facing.
"It's a very hard thing for a family, having to put a dog down," he says.
Dr. McKeown and his partner, Jack Halip, helps families improve their problem dogs' behaviour. Dr. McKeown claims a 50% success rate with a "partial success rate" of 30%. In 20% of the cases, the animals' behaviour could not be improved.
If this sounds discouraging, Dr. McKeown explains dogs are driven by either learned behaviours or inherited ones. Learned behaviours, such as jumping up on guests, can generally be unlearned quickly. Inherited behaviours, however, are more difficult to correct.
It is not hopeless, though. Dog training is relatively simple and almost all dogs learn quickly. Dr. McKeown advocates a simple correction method: Distract them from the bad behaviour and reward them with a treat when they respond correctly. They soon learn it pays more to do right.
However, sometimes, despite even the best training methods, some dogs may fail to improve.
What became of Cleo?
Despite losing the kitchen vote, Mr. Lesser demanded the family give her one last chance. Desperate, he took her to Mr. Halip for "behaviour modification" in 1993.
Cleo's misbehaviour, as outlined in Mr. Halip's 14-page report, was diagnosed as being mostly dominance-related to family members. She had claimed pack leadership. Mr. Halip helped the Lessers re-establish leadership and control over Cleo using lure/reward techniques.
Did the training cure Cleo completely? Mr. Lesser admits her case would fall under the "partial success" category. For the first time, she responded to simple commands, (sit, stay, come) but did, on occasion, break out of the house. In one instance, she ate a neighbour's pet rabbit after chewing her way into its outdoor cage.
"Hey, nobody's perfect," he jokes.
Most important, Cleo learned it was the family, and not she, who was in charge.
In January, the severe arthritis that had plagued Cleo for the past two years became so severe she could no longer stand up on her own. Not wanting Cleo to suffer, and with the advice of their vet, the Lessers decided to have her euthanized. She was 14, an old age for a Dalmatian.
Mr. Lesser is glad he ignored the results of the kitchen-table vote and allowed Cleo to live. Without the training, he admits her behaviour would have been too much for the family to bear. Instead, she lived a long life as a much-loved member of the family.
"She was an incredible pain, but we'll miss Cleo. I'll always say that she's the dog we'll never forget.''