The Piper Mutt is a big black-and-tan mutt who wouldn’t be out of place on a farm. Nonetheless, I’ve ended up with him.
We have a morning ritual. I let him out, he comes bounding back in a bit later. I toss a chew stick for him and he goes chasing after it, zips to his mat, and chews it up. Because he’s a big guy, I then toss another chew stick, he runs after it, takes it to his mat and chews it up.
Except - there is a supply chain issue. I normally get the chew stick for a “Large breed”, which he certainly is. But on the weekend grocery excursion, I accidentally got the “Medium breed” size stix, which are, of course, somewhat smaller.
A few times this week, as he’s been gobbling down his stix, I’ve caught him glancing at me with a suspicious “wait a minute” look.
I think he’s caught on to the shrinkflation. “I’m getting my two stix, but there’s something not quite right here …”
Simply explain to the Mutt that his normal size chew sticks were not available, though you did your best, and he’ll be getting the normal size again as soon as possible. He’ll understand, and meanwhile, give him three or four instead of two!
Uh, I see a potential problem with that. Canine math capacities are better at understanding the concept of “expected number of treat items” than the concept of “equivalent quantity in disparate numbers of differently sized treat items”.
Get the Mutt used to receiving three or four treats in the Medium breed size, and then when the Large breed size comes back, there will be an expectation of getting three or four of those too.
Though tbh I think I might have been whooshed and that’s what wolfpup meant to imply all along. (Username checks out as far as understanding of canine math capacities is concerned.)
Note that my advice was premised on having a quiet conversation with the Mutt regarding supply problems and the reason for the extra but smaller portions, and proceeding with this plan only after the pup nods his head to indicate understanding!
My Jack Russell Terrier gets 10 milk-bone minis every night as a reward for taking his medicine, which he doesn’t like. I give them to him in two increments of five. When I start to run low, I try to stretch out the last few and will give him four instead of five. He will eat the four and then begin whimpering until I come up with a fifth before continuing on with our nightly routine. Once I give him the fifth, everything is good again. It’s funny, though, if I give him six instead of five he just gobbles it up without a second thought. He must think I forgot how to count.
Dogs are just so amazing. My Bernese seemed to know instinctively when it was dinner time. He’d come and lie down in front of his dinner and water bowls. If dinner wasn’t served after a while because I was busy with something else, he’s go off into his room – it was hard to tell if he was sulking. He might come out after a while, and would certainly come when called for dinner. (To be fair, his dinner was usually on time, and that’s why he came to expect it.)
According to his personal trainer, I was advised that it was important for me to maintain alpha-dog status, and part of that was to make him sit while the appropriate mix of kibble and hot dinner (stew, roast chicken, roast beef, or whatever) was assembled. If the dinner was aromatic, as it usually was, it was charming to see him literally drool as he sat there. It broke my heart to make him sit and wait, but he would have been in the way as stuff was dished out, and it really was an important part of training discipline.
The trick is to start them out with the “training treats” (small treats that are the size of a good sized bean), and not work up from there unless there’s some exceptional circumstance.
While I acknowledge a certain canine prejudice, I myself wouldn’t hire a Golden Retriever as a lawyer. Too soft. I’d look for a Rottweiler or Pit Bull.
Sounds like a co-counsel situation: a golden for direct examination of friendly witnesses and to interact with the jury, and a rotty or a bulldog for cross-examination.
Yeah. But crap happens. Like that one special day when I felt really bad they had to get shots and gave extra.
After that they’d limp to where the treats were being passed out. Expecting the big bite.
Cats are just as good. Mine grazed on kibbles from their bowls all day; there was no set dinner time. But it was uncanny: every day, at about 5:30 pm, they would gather in the kitchen and meow. Why? It was treat time. Whiskas Temptations. And they would meow until they got them.
When I had to go out of town, I always had to inform my cat sitter that the best time to come daily was around 5:30 pm. Otherwise, I’d hear about it when I got back.
Canine math capacities are better at understanding the concept of “expected number of treat items” than the concept of “equivalent quantity in disparate numbers of differently sized treat items”.
