What is play?

I spent my weekend at a dog seminar, surrounded by humans who love, live, breathe dogs. It was awesome!

Sue Sternberg talked to us for 2 days about dog to dog aggression and dog park behavior. Not a coincidence. Sue is very entertaining, relying on video clips to support her theories. But the piece that I liked the most is that she continues to ask questions. She's been involved in the dog world for 25 - 30 years and is still asking questions. That makes sense to me. It doesn't matter how much or how little experience you have, you should always be asking questions.

Sue's latest question is: What is play?

Does that not seem obvious? Haven't we all figured that one out by now? Well, actually, I don't think we have. Sure, there are plenty of definitions:

engage in activity for enjoyment and recreation rather than a serious or practical purpose
amuse oneself by engaging in imaginative pretense
play, by definition, is fun. When play stops being fun it stops being play.

We could list definitions forever. But could we recognize play when we see it?

I remember as a kid, my uncle was the 'funnest' guy in the world. He played with all of us and everyone had fun. Except for me. He scared me. He played hard. He played on the edge. And I didn't like it. I was not having fun. So was it still play?

We take our dogs to the dog park so that they can play with other dogs. Are they all having fun? Is the dog who is being chased by 3 other dogs, really enjoying it? We need to read the body language.

And over time, do our dogs learn to tolerate 'play' and maybe even change who they are because we demand that they 'play'?

So many questions.

We adopted Charlie when he was 5 months old. One of our dogs had died a few weeks before and Floyd, our malamute really needed to live with another dog. (Red flag: should you really get a dog to keep your other dog company????) Things were great until Floyd was too old to go on walks. Looking back, this was a turning point; but at the time, I did not have a clue. Charlie and I would walk every day and he got worse and worse on the leash.

What does that mean? He lunged and barked at other dogs that we'd see along the way. It started with just one dog, then grew to most dogs. He was ok at the dog park as long as he chased his ball. Looking back, I think he missed Floyd's protection; his cues about how Charlie was supposed to act on leash. And I think Charlie didn't trust me to take care of him without Floyd.

So I got help. UnLeashed - an incredible training group, diagnosed what I thought of as aggression and helped me get Charlie back on track.

Basically, Charlie is a wimp and would be happy to never meet another dog ever again as long as he lives. But he has to walk and he does go to the dog park (maybe not for long...), so he needs some options. I've built a relationship with him so that he can focus on me rather than other dogs on the street. It's going very well.

But what is this all about? Why do we ask our dogs to meet strange dogs in the dog park and "play" with them? Would we ask that of our children? Of ourselves?

Why do we have dogs?

It would be good to be a dog

My dad used to say that if reincarnation actually existed, he'd want to come back as my grandma's cat. That cat had the life - fresh fish and liver poached to perfection twice a day, a velvet cushion to sleep on, my grandma doting on her.

But sometimes, I think it would be good to be a dog.

In the years since my boys have needed less attention from me, I've transferred that attention to the dogs. My dogs haven't reached the cushy status of my grandma's cat, but they do have a pretty good life.

Someone feeds them twice a day. Just think about that! They never need to plan a menu or think about balanced meals or nutrition. The food just appears for them. I could live with that.

They get out of the house every day for a new adventure. Sometimes, they go to the beach, sometimes to the park, sometimes for a walk (with varied routes), sometimes to training class. Someone else is thinking about their exercise needs and making exercise fun and exciting. I could live with that.



They have plenty of toys. Oh, the toys they have. They can choose any toy from the basket. Chief even steals toys from the neighbor dog. At first I thought my husband was buying the dogs toys - so thoughtful. But then when the neighbor kid noticed that we had all of their toys, I figured it out and spied on the dogs. The neighbor dog brings a toy to the wire fence. Chief smiles, grabs and runs. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even say thank you. I could live with this - my neighbors have better stuff than I do!

I dredged up something from my parenting past the other day. Chief was chewing on his favorite squeaky toy at 6am. This is no ordinary squeaky toy; it's indestructible, which means he can't tear it apart to get the squeaker. So it squeaks and squeaks and squeaks. Before 2 cups of coffee, it is unbearable. Well, I took it away. It now lives on top of the piano and he only gets it after performing some phenomenal trick and only after 10am. And then for a limited time.... (not sure I could live with someone controlling my toys).

The dogs are expected to sleep a lot during the day. Really, after a walk and some food, my dogs need to lie around and relax. I might throw some training sessions into their day or give them a bone to chew. But I do expect a good amount of napping. I could definitely live with this requirement.

Today, I witnessed some moments of pure dog pleasure. I was trying to balance taking the dogs to a training class with their need to go for a walk. I thought that I'd take them for a short walk so that they wouldn't be too tired for training. But if we walked through the park, they could get a good off-leash run and do their business. As we approached the park, I noticed a baseball game convening. But they weren't even ready to warm up and there were some dogs off-leash on the opposite end. I let my dogs go. They ran and played a little. I leashed Charlie, ready to resume our walk through the neighborhood. As I turned to grab Chief (he's only 7 months old...), a swallow caught his eye.

Chief is part German short-haired pointer and part lab or hound. He loves birds. Not to watch or identify or add to his life list. But to chase. The swallows at the park are very nice. They tag team so that he's chasing one, then another, then the first. They never leave the fenced area. Chief gets a great work out.

But there were baseball players ready to start. Chief didn't seem to notice. Or hear me calling him. He may be young, but he has a pretty good recall, especially because he knows that whenever he shows up in front of me with his butt planted on the ground, he will definitely get a treat. But that swallow was just too enticing. So I called him and chased him (stupid human). I threw a handful treats in his face. Nothing deterred him. Finally, after I entertained the baseball team and fans, Chief flopped to the ground, exhausted. But the smile on his face told me that he'd had the time of his life. He was as happy as a kid in a candy store.

I could live with that.