You might think someone got into the catnip here, no, but you read that right…A Maryland newspaper reported that forty-five-year-old Debbie Parkhurst was enjoying an apple at home when a piece got lodged in her throat. She attempted the Heimlich maneuver on herself to no avail. Luckily, as Debbie frantically beat on her chest, Toby, her two-year-old Golden Retriever, leaped into action. Like any self-respecting young retriever, Toby jumped up, put his front paws on Debbie’s shoulders, knocked her to the ground, then began to jump up and down on her chest.

Dog Food Ads: Hope or Hype?

Have you ever seen that dog food commercial where the puppy scampers up the wooden porch steps to the adoring child? Thanks to the magic of television, the dog is then an adult, walking up those same stairs to the now-teenager. Fast-forward another few years and the dog is a senior, climbing slowly toward his loving adult owner. Do the math, and you know what comes next—reaching for the Kleenex.

Mojo is my baby. Sure, he’s a 120-pound, fur-covered baby, but my baby nevertheless. He’s a gorgeous combination of malamute, german shepherd, rottweiler and wolf. Long, thick black hair with sparse tan markings, tall and long-bodied. Amber eyes and a thick, bushy tail, just a bit wolfy-looking. When he stands on his hind legs, he is taller than I am—okay, with me being 5’2” that’s not saying much, but still. Mojo doesn’t stand on his hind legs much these days; today is his 13th birthday.

I am blown away. I have just come from visiting a web site that showed videos of very young puppies being trained. You’re probably thinking “young” means four months old, maybe even three. But nooo! These puppies started their training at the age of 20 days. For those of you just waking up and not wanting to do the math, that’s just under three weeks!

I’m headed back to L.A. on a cross-country flight after presenting a seminar in New Jersey. It was great fun, and featured two other speakers as well, one of whom was Dog Star Daily’s own “International Roving Reporter,” Roger Abrantes. The audience was mostly made up of trainers, but also included shelter and rescue workers, petsitters, a few owners, and a veterinarian. We all had one thing in common—a love of dogs and a desire to help them.

As a dog trainer, enthusiast and dog-mom, I try to keep up on the latest developments in canine behavior and health. In fact, I’m a bit of a geek when it comes to researching the latest findings. So imagine my surprise when I learned that what I and so many others had believed about older dogs needing less protein in their diets is untrue.

I just returned from a training appointment with one of my favorite clients. Cory and Carol are a forty-something couple who have a twelve-year-old son and a Golden Retriever named Vinnie. Perhaps it’s my Brooklyn roots, but the dog’s name strikes me as funny and adorable. The dog is both.

I have a confession: Soko, my German Shepherd who passed away last April at the age of 13, was an addict. Yes, friends, if she could have stood on a dog house in a yard filled with her canine peers, she would have barked out, “My name is Soko and I am a tennis ball addict.” No doubt the malamutes would have woo-woo’d a warm, “Welcome, Soko!” The other Shepherds would have nodded knowingly. The Border Collies, of course, would simply have stared.

In the 90s, I spent many hours each week at the Los Angeles city shelters. I began as a volunteer and eventually became a volunteer coordinator, training other volunteers. One comment I heard over and over from the visiting public was, “How can you stand to be here day after day? It’s so depressing!” Well, it’s true that there are aspects of shelter work that can be upsetting and even depressing. But I cannot express how fulfilling volunteering at a shelter can be, on so many levels.

See Spot. See Spot run. See Spot run out of steam as a popular dog name, along with Fido, Rex and Lassie. Today’s muttly monikers are creative, humorous, and sometimes downright odd. Consider the following categories:

Playing Against Body Type: At a rescue center I worked with, we had an enormous white German shepherd/wolf mix. His name was Tiny. At the other end of the spectrum, a training client’s teacup Chihuahua was named Goliath. And a perfectly proportioned, pert and cute teacup yorkie I trained is named Quasi Modo.

Human Names: Bob. Bill. Hank. Sadie. Are they your friends? Co-workers? Nope. They’re dogs. Somehow I find watching someone instruct their poodle, “Bob, stay!” a bit disconcerting. Then again, I once dated a guy named Spike. Who am I to question anyone’s taste?