The Dogs Blog......Two Ends Of The Leash

Over the last few months, life has been… let’s just say “a little on the demanding side.” This isn’t me fishing for compliments or sympathy — it’s simply the backdrop to how this blog came to be.

Breeding high-quality dogs is wonderfully rewarding, but it’s also a lifestyle that demands serious dedication. My days usually begin at 5 a.m. sharp and don’t wind down until after dinner — which tends to happen closer to 7 p.m. A good friend once told me I’m the most “Time Poor” person he knows…

Now, layer onto that already packed schedule a litter whose mum’s milk didn’t come in properly, which meant bottle feeds (“Tippie top-ups,” as Lisa affectionately calls them) around the clock. Then throw in a couple more litters that need the usual extra monitoring to make sure both mums and pups were thriving. And, most recently, a little one born with a cleft lip who can’t nurse naturally and requires hand-feeding every two hours — day and night. You’re probably starting to see what I mean when I say things have been particularly full-on lately.

Between the lack of sleep and the constant waiting between feeds, I often found myself in that foggy, semi-lucid state where your mind wanders in odd directions. Questions would pop up out of nowhere — things like, “Are slow feeder bowls really necessary?” or “Who, in their right mind, decided to label a dog toy as indestructible?” (Spoiler: that’s a lie, and every dog knows it.)

I started jotting these stray thoughts down — just a line or two here and there — and mentioned it to my friend Jim one evening. After listening, he grinned and said, “Wow, what a great basis for a blog.” And then, in true Jim fashion, he started laying out how it could develop. This, from the very same man who insists I’m truely "Time Poor". Go figure.

But the idea stuck with me. Rather than worrying about whether I had enough time, my bigger concern became whether I had enough finished thoughts to share. So here I am, tapping out the beginnings of this blog — hoping that some of my musings, born in the quiet hours between puppy feeds, might bring a smile or perhaps even be of use to fellow dog lovers.

01/12/2025   Never Leave A Dog Outside.......

Every winter the same recycled posts appear on social media telling people they’re bad owners if they let their dogs outside in cold weather or take them for walks when the temperature drops below whatever number the latest “expert” has decided is too cold. Yes, cold weather does present real risks, snowballs forming on coats can drag a dog’s core temp down fast, and an egg whisk remains one of the best tools I’ve used to remove them. But beyond those genuine issues, the wider online narrative is completely flawed.

Dogs do not experience cold the way we do. They don’t have our temperature range, our biology, our skin, or our signalling. Take a Husky and a Chihuahua both have different thermal neutral zones (TNZ) the temperature ranges their bodies can sit in without spending extra energy, are worlds apart. A Husky can be comfortable from around -10 to +10 degrees Celsius. A Chihuahua might need +10 to +25 to feel the same way. So when the internet says that “dogs shouldn’t be outside below X degrees” its absolute nonsense. It depends entirely on the dog, not the temp.

The canine body is built for a different set of thermal rules. Dogs naturally run a higher core temperature than humans, usually between 38.3 and 39.2°C. What feels cold to us often feels completely normal to them. Their fur acts as insulation and in double-coated breeds, the undercoat traps warm air just like a proper winter jacket. Their paws contain counter-current heat exchangers, arteries and veins touching, meaning cold blood returning from the paws is warmed on the way back up the leg. Humans absolutely cannot do this our extremities lose heat fast. Their whole physiology is tuned differently.

Even within a breed, coat type and coat quality make an enormous difference. A dense, oily double coat will shrug off cold better that a light, open coat will. Dogs in peak condition manage cold better than thin or unwell dogs. Wetness destroys insulation and strips heat rapidly. Age, health, and body composition all alter how a dog handles the cold. Then there is the environmental factor, dogs that live in centrally-heated or air-conditioned homes lose much of their natural cold resilience. Their environment sits at a steady, artificial 20+ degrees all year round, so their bodies never receive the signal to grow a proper winter undercoat or activate the metabolic pathways that build cold tolerance. Recent studies confirm that dogs acclimatise to the temperatures they live in. Kennel dogs exposed to outdoor conditions build better coats, have stronger thermal responses, and cope with winter naturally. Indoor dogs shed out of season, lose cold resilience, and struggle simply because they’ve never been allowed to adapt.

The reason many dogs struggle with cold isn’t because cold is inherently dangerous it’s because the dog’s lifestyle has prevented it from developing the natural resilience its body is capable of. The issue isn’t that the dog is outside. The issue is often that the dog hasn’t been outside enough.

A note of warning, if owner’s constantly cover the dog with a shop bought “winter coat”, the undercoat can becomes sparse, shedding becomes irregular (always a problem in centrally heated homes), cold tolerance decreases and the TNZ shifts upwards meaning they feel cold easier.

So the dog becomes the fragile little thing the owner imagined it was because they are creating the sensitivity they believed they were preventing with the purchase of a winter coat.

People also look for the wrong signs. A lifted paw or a shiver can mean anxiety, uncertainty or scent processing, not cold. True cold signs are subtler, small muscle tremors, reduced movement, stiffened steps, or a slight dullness in expression.

So watch the dog, not the temperature. Cold alone isn’t the problem. Cold combined with wetness, wind, poor coat, poor condition, illness, or inability to move freely is where risk starts. A healthy double-coated dog with freedom of choice can spend hours outside quite happily. A thermally sheltered house dog may struggle long before the thermometer suggests anything extreme.

If people spent half as much time observing their dog as they do reposting nonsense online, winter would be a lot simpler for everyone.

23/11/2025   The myth of the Runt

Having just birthed a litter of puppies and while I’m currently up sleeping on the sofa, blurry-eyed, alarm set every 30 minutes, I find myself thinking about this strange obsession people have with the “runt” of the litter. I’m sat here being extremely attentive and focused on both the mother’s needs and those of the tiny lives that have just come into the world, and the more I think about it, the more convinced I become that the so-called runt simply doesn’t exist. Yes, you absolutely can get a puppy born smaller than the rest. It happens. But that doesn’t make them a runt any more than a human baby born prematurely or slightly below average weight makes them a runt. We don’t label human infants like that, so why do we do it to dogs?

People use the word “runt” for a few reasons. First is a lack of knowledge, most owners have never seen a litter develop hour by hour, day by day, so to them the smallest pup automatically looks fragile or abnormal. Second is a lack of understanding of biology, they assume size at birth equals genetic weakness, when in reality it’s just normal developmental variation, so they assume that “runts” are a natural inevitability. They’re not.

Puppies don’t grow in perfectly equal conditions inside the womb. Each has its own placenta, sitting in slightly different locations along the uterine horns. Some placentas get more blood flow, some a little less. This is normal variation, not a flaw (Root Kustritz, 2006). Conception can also occur over a day or two, meaning some pups are literally “developmentally younger” at birth. None of this indicates weakness.

Once born, those small birth differences get amplified by competition for the milk and not all teats are created equal. Studies in dogs, pigs, and rodents show that the rear teats produce milk with significantly higher fat content and higher yield (Delouis et al., 1978; Case et al., 2011). Stronger pups fight for and secure those teats early, and research shows puppies establish a “nipple order” within the first 24–48 hours (Ewer, 1969; Andersen & Hegstad, 1996). Bigger pups stay on richer teats. Smaller pups get pushed to lower-flow ones. That’s how you get a widening weight gap, not because the pup is a “runt,” but because no one stepped in.

Milk flow itself depends on oxytocin release and stimulation. More vigorous pups trigger stronger let-down reflexes, meaning strong pups get richer milk faster. Again biology isn’t the problem; lack of intervention is and being born small is normal; becoming undernourished is preventable.

A competent breeder rotates pups, ensures the smallest get time on the best teats, supplements where needed, and monitors weight religiously. They support the mother too ensuring she’s fed high-quality food, well hydrated with low stress. Temperature stability, humidity, and hygiene have all been shown to influence neonatal growth (Lawler, 2008). Every single one of these variables can work against the smallest pup but only if the breeder is asleep at the wheel.

In a well-run whelping box, the smallest puppy grows in line with the rest of the litter because every natural disadvantage is actively managed. The phrase “runt of the litter” is nothing more than a badge of poor observation, poor intervention, or poor husbandry.
So in my opinion if a breeder starts talking about the ‘runt of the litter, run in the opposite direction. Because their quality of care leaves something to be desired. A good breeder doesn’t produce runts. They produce puppies, big ones, small ones all thriving because someone was paying attention from the moment they took their first breath.

31/10/2025   Halloween: More trick than treat for your dog

Dogs have long been tangled in the myths and mysteries of the darker side of folklore. In the old tales, they weren’t just our companions they were guardians of the household, protectors of the underworld, and sometimes, omens of death itself. Ancient Greeks had Cerberus, the three-headed hound who kept souls from escaping Hades. Celtic legend spoke of spectral black dogs roaming the mist on Samhain, the festival that would later evolve into Halloween. Even during the Salem Witch Trials fear ran so deep that two dogs were killed after being accused of serving witches, which (no pun intended) is a grim reminder of how superstition once turned man’s best friend into a supposed agent of evil.

They were the protectors. But times have changed.

Today, the demons our dogs face aren’t from the underworld they’re from the sweet aisle. Every year around Halloween, chocolate toxicity reports spike as curious noses sniff out the discarded and misplaced treasure troves of sugar from across our homes and pavements.

In America, a country that REALLY celebrates Halloween, the Pet Poison Helpline reports that calls about dogs eating chocolate or sweets jump by around 12% during Halloween week, and nearly all chocolate-related calls involve dogs. With an estimated 179 million Americans celebrating Halloween and spending over $3 billion on sweets and chocolate, there’s plenty of temptation lying around. Scaled down to the UK, that still means thousands of dogs are exposed to the same risks every October and not just on the night itself. Discarded sweets, lolly sticks, and wrappers can pose real hazards for days afterwards.

Then there’s the real trigger, strangers in costumes barging into your dog’s space. You might think your mask is hilarious, or your kids trooping through dressed as zombies is part of the fun but your dog doesn’t see it that way. Imagine creeping into your kids bedroom dressed up like Freddy Kruger!!! You wouldn’t do that, so why allow it with your dog? You’re setting off a perfect storm, a stress cocktail for your dog of unfamiliar faces, weird outfits, doorbells. Respect them. Don’t treat them like the backdrop for your spooky selfie.

So maybe this year, instead of dressing them up as devils or pumpkins, we should honour their ancient role differently by protecting them. Keep the chocolate out of reach, make a safe space away from the door and be ready for the aftermath when the streets are littered with temptation.

Because for all their history as guardians, it’s our turn to guard them from the living. That’s where two simple but powerful safety commands come in: “Leave it” and “Out.”

There are many ways to teach a dog almost anything, and I’ll often use several depending on the dog, the situation, the owner, and the specific behaviour we’re aiming for.

For the “leave it” command, here’s a simple way to help your dog understand what you’re asking for.

Start by putting a small piece of food on the floor. Place your hand over it with your fingertips touching the floor almost like a little cage over the food. Your dog will naturally try to get at it. Calmly say “leave it” and wait. The moment your dog steps back, looks at you, or even just loses interest in trying to snatch the treat from under your fingers mark that behaviour and reward with a treat from your pocket.

Repeat this until your dog begins to show less interest in the food backing off, looking at you, or simply waiting. This time, put the food on the floor but don’t cover it. Use your “leave it” cue, and the moment your dog moves away or ignores it, mark and reward again.

When that’s solid, take it up another notch. Toss a treat a couple of feet away and give the “leave it” command. As soon as your dog turns away from it, mark and reward. You’re now building impulse control around movement and distance.

Next, take it outside. Scatter a few “temptations” a bit of food, a toy, even a paper wrapper along a planned path in your garden. As you walk your dog around on lead, use “leave it” when they show interest, and reward when they move away. Keeping your dog on a lead here helps you stay in control while they’re still learning.

For the “out” command start with a toy or ball already in your dog’s mouth. Gently place your hand on the toy and say “out” (or whatever word you choose). Then freeze. Don’t pull, tug, or move the toy at all. The moment you feel the slightest slack in your dog’s grip even a tiny softening of pressure mark and reward. The reward could be a treat, or simply throwing another ball. Reset and repeat several times.

Soon, your dog will begin releasing the toy completely on the first cue. When that happens, start practising without your hand on the toy say “out” and wait for the drop. Mark and reward.

Never try to teach them in the heat of the moment. If your dog has just grabbed your best trainer and is sprinting across the garden while you’re chasing and shouting, that’s not training that’s madness.

As it’s a bit close to All Hallows’ Eve to perfect these two commands right now, but the next danger season is just around the corner, Christmas. And with all the mince pies, chocolate coins, turkey bones, tinsel and toys that appear, you’ll be very glad you started training your dog to leave it and out, either could save you a frantic dash to the emergency vet.

26/10/2025   Dogs Can't Tell Time...Or Can They?

The clocks go back tonight, and while most of us are thrilled at the idea of an extra hour in bed, your dog didn’t get the memo. So don’t be surprised if, at what your clock insists is an hour too early, you’re greeted by a cold nose, a hopeful tail wag or tap dancing paws on the kitchen floor. The clocks might have gone back but your dog’s body clock certainly hasn’t.

They can’t tell the time, so they’re not deliberately trying to start the day early they simply believe it’s the same time as always. Their internal chemistry is still faithfully running on last week’s schedule.

Dogs live by circadian rhythms, the internal 24-hour biological clock that regulates everything from sleep and digestion to hormones and body temperature. It’s controlled by a small cluster of brain cells called the suprachiasmatic nucleus.

Studies (Refinetti & Menaker 1992; Zanghi 2016) show that dogs develop remarkably accurate internal rhythms for daily events and this happens throughout the day and night. So when we wind the clock back an hour, their body still thinks it’s time to start the day, even if your bedside clock says otherwise.

The “stay-up-late” experiment

Some owners wonder, “What if I move our whole routine an hour later tonight last walk, treat, crate that stop the early wake-up?”
By shifting everything later, you give your dog new zeitgebers (time-givers): a later walk, later lights-out, later quiet. That starts nudging the biological pendulum in the right direction. But circadian chemistry doesn’t shift that fast. One late bedtime begins the process but doesn’t complete it. Most dogs (and people) take two to five days to settle into the new rhythm.

So yes, you can stay up later tonight to try and “beat” the early wake-up, but you’ll trade your extra hour of sleep for a small head start on canine jet lag.

Helping your dog re-sync

Whether you try the late-night trick or not, your dog will naturally adapt within a few days. You can smooth the process by:

• If they wake early don’t start the routine early for a bit of quiet (that only reinforces it).

• Keeping routines consistent once the change happens.

• Letting daylight do the work natural morning light is the best reset signal for the body clock.

Add in a few faint environmental cues, the boiler clicking on, birds outside, or the world quietly stirring and your dog’s internal alarm clock starts to get back to going off right on time.

But who is really better at keeping time, humans or dogs. We share almost the same biological clock. Both species rely on that same brain centre, the suprachiasmatic nucleus, and the same hormones to regulate sleep and wake cycles.

The difference is, dogs still listen to theirs. They live by light, routine, and the steady rhythm of daily life. We, on the other hand, drown our natural timing in alarms, caffeine, blue-lit screens, and midnight emails. Our circadian rhythm isn’t broken, it’s just overruled by technology and habit.

So while we’re checking the time on our phones, they’re checking the sunrise, and maybe dogs aren’t better timekeepers; maybe they’re simply living closer to nature’s clock which is probably a more healthy option some would argue.

20/10/2025   Frustration Isn’t Obedience

I hear it far too often. People standing over their dogs with a bowl of food in hand, treating dinner time like a test of obedience. The poor dog is shaking, drooling, eyes locked on that bowl, and the human is saying, “Wait… wait… waaaait…” as if they’re defusing a bomb. Then finally, the dramatic “OK!” and the dog launches like a coiled spring, inhaling the meal in three seconds flat. The owner smiles proudly, convinced they’ve just taught “impulse control.”

No. What they’ve actually taught is frustration.

Frustration isn’t a minor annoyance, it’s a biological and emotional state that engages the same neural pathways as anger and aggression. Studies on both humans and animals (Berkowitz, 1989; Blair, 2001; Anderson & Bushman, 2002) show that frustration and aggression share overlapping activation in areas like the amygdala and hypothalamus, areas of the brain responsible for in part, emotional arousal and defensive behaviour. In dogs, Beerda et al. (1998) found that repeated exposure to frustrating situations such as restraint or delayed access to food produced measurable stress responses, including elevated cortisol levels and behavioural agitation. So, while the owner thinks they’re teaching discipline, what they’re really doing is lighting a slow burning fuse in the dog’s emotional system.

Dogs, like all social mammals, thrive on predictability and security around key resources. When food becomes uncertain or stressful, the emotional fallout can be significant. Chronic unpredictability around feeding has been linked to anxiety related behaviours and aggression (DePorter et al., 2019), and anyone who has worked with a resource guarding dog knows how quickly that can escalate. What should be a calm, safe moment turns into a small storm of stress hormones, confusion, and tension.

People will tell me, “But my dog needs to learn patience!” Patience is a good thing to teach, but context matters. If you want to build self-control, do it when the emotional stakes are low, with a toy, a doorway, or a simple training exercise, not with their dinner. Food isn’t a training prop; it’s a biological need. Imagine if I served you your favourite meal, placed it on the table, and said, “Just stare at it for a while while I test your willpower. Don’t touch, don’t sniff, don’t even look too excited.” You’d probably fail the test within thirty seconds and stab me with your fork.

When you mess with a dog’s food, you’re not teaching them calmness, you’re teaching that mealtime is uncertain and that the person they rely on most is unpredictable. Over time, some dogs learn to suppress that tension, but others turn it inward as anxiety or outward as guarding. And then the owner, bewildered, says, “He’s always been fine with food, I don’t know what happened.” What happened is that dinner became a psychological game show, “Will I Eat Tonight?” and nobody wins that one.

Feeding time should be simple, calm, and consistent. Put the bowl down, step back, let them eat. No dramatic pauses, no theatrical releases, no “good boy, look at me” while drool hits the floor. A calm, predictable mealtime builds trust and emotional stability. And that trust forms the foundation of your whole relationship, not a hierarchy, but a partnership based on mutual respect and clear communication.

What they need is reassurance that the world makes sense, that dinner will arrive without stress or confusion, and that the hands that feed them aren’t the same hands that tease. When that emotional security exists, cooperation flows naturally. You get a dog that wants to work with you, because they feel understood, safe, and confident.

Dogs don’t lose respect because you fed them promptly. They don’t become entitled from predictable kindness. What undermines their emotional balance is inconsistency, mixed signals, and unnecessary tension. Feeding your dog calmly and fairly doesn’t just fill their stomach it fills in the foundations of trust and emotional safety.

So next time you feed your dog, skip the performance. Put the food down, let them enjoy it, and your dog will thank you because dinner time is no longer a mind game.

12/10/2025   Old Dog? New Tricks? Absolutely.

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

If I had a treat for every time I’ve heard that phrase, I’d have a barrel of Labradors camped at my door.

It’s one of those sayings people love to throw about usually as an excuse. It tends to come right after their senior spaniel has ignored a recall, mugged the postman, or decided that the kitchen bin is an open buffet. But let’s be clear, the idea that age makes a dog untrainable is complete nonsense. In fact, it’s a perfect example of how lazy language can become lazy thinking.

The phrase actually dates back to the 1500s, appearing in John Fitzherbert’s The Boke of Husbandry (1534):

“...and it is hard to make an old dog to stoop.”
Meaning, even back then, people were blaming their dogs for their own training failures.

Over time, it evolved into the modern version we know today, and humans started using it for themselves basically saying, “I’m too set in my ways to change.” Which is a polite way of saying, “I can’t be bothered.”

Modern neuroscience has completely torn this myth apart. Dogs, just like humans, experience neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to form new connections and adapt even in later life.

In fact, scientists have managed to train senior dogs to lie still in fMRI scanners while they undergo brain imaging, and if that’s not proof you can teach old dogs new tricks, I don’t know what is. Those same scans show that older dogs still activate learning and reward pathways when exposed to training cues.

A 2020 study published in Scientific Reports (Szabó et al., 2020) found that while older dogs may take a little longer to learn new tasks than young ones, they are perfectly capable of forming new memories and associations. Their slower pace isn’t because they “can’t learn” it’s because, like us, they just need a bit more time and patience.

Interestingly, senior dogs can often be easier to train. They’re calmer, less distracted by every rustling leaf, and generally have more emotional self-control. You won’t have to compete with their hormones or a squirrel running up a tree.

But why bother training older dogs? Because mental stimulation is one of the best things you can do for an ageing dog’s health. Cognitive decline in dogs often called “canine cognitive dysfunction,” a bit like doggy dementia can be slowed down or even reversed with consistent learning and engagement.

Research from the Dog Aging Project (2022) and the Vienna University of Veterinary Medicine (Wallis et al., 2016) has shown that mentally active dogs retain better problem-solving skills, have sharper recall, and show fewer anxiety-related behaviours as they age. In other words, keeping your dog’s brain busy literally helps keep it young.

So when someone says, “There’s no point training my old dog,” what they’re really saying is, “I’d rather my dog’s brain atrophied out of boredom.”

It doesn’t have to be circus stuff. You don’t need to be teaching your twelve-year-old Labrador to skateboard (though I’d watch that video). It can be as simple as:

• Re-training recall using a whistle or,

• Nose work games like finding a toy or treat hidden in boxes.

Every new behaviour builds confidence and keeps the brain’s learning pathways firing.

The people who say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks are often the same ones who stopped learning themselves. They’ve stopped trying, stopped adapting, and started blaming the dog. The truth is, dogs young or old mirror the energy, effort, and expectations of their hoomans.

If you give them clarity, consistency, and something worth working for (and no, that doesn’t have to be a sausage every time), they’ll surprise you. I’ve seen ten year old cockers learn new recall cues in a week, and my ancient Labradors master nose-work puzzles faster than their grand pups.

So yes you can teach an old dog new tricks.

You just can’t teach an old human to stop making excuses!!!

09/10/2025   “Wet vs Dry” is no more

For years, the standard question about dog food has been whether you feed wet or dry. That’s really missing the point. The real choice is between fresh, minimally processed foods and ultra-processed ones. Because what truly matters isn’t whether it comes from a pouch or a tin, but how heavily it’s been processed before it lands in your dog’s bowl.

Fresh diets, raw, lightly cooked, steamed, or flash frozen contain recognisable ingredients: meat, veg, maybe fruit. Ultra-processed foods, which make up most kibbles, pouches and tinned options, are hammered by heat, extrusion and additives until they’re far removed from their original form. And yes, there are poor quality examples on both sides. A cheap raw mince without the right balance of vitamins and minerals is just as flawed as a bargain bin kibble bulked up with wheat filler. But when you put good fresh against even the best kibble, the research is increasingly clear: less processing means better digestibility and better health outcomes.

Take Geary et al. (2024), who compared frozen raw, freeze dried raw, fresh and extruded diets in beagles. The raw and freeze dried groups absorbed more protein and fat, produced better stools and left less waste. Lyu et al. (2025) reviewed multiple studies and found owners repeatedly reported shinier coats, better energy and smaller poos. Iennarella-Servantez et al. (2017) showed high digestibility and no adverse effects in dogs fed raw meat based diets, while Hiney et al. (2021) found raw fed dogs showed more favourable metabolic and gut health markers than those on extruded diets. Even Lippert & Sapy (2003), tracking 500 dogs over five years, concluded that fresh fed dogs lived on average 32 months longer than their kibble fed counterparts. That’s nearly three extra years of walks, cuddles and stolen sandwiches.

Now, no raw feeding discussion escapes the “bacteria” argument. Vets often raise the spectre of Salmonella or E. coli, as though every raw patty were crawling with danger. Yet high quality producers flash freeze their meats, slashing bacterial counts, and dogs themselves are far better equipped to handle these bugs than we are, thanks to acidic stomachs and short digestive tracts. The actual risk vets worry about is human hygiene. Cross contamination in the kitchen, toddlers touching bowls, food prepared sloppily. And here’s where perspective matters: the prevalence of resistant E. coli isn’t unique to raw dog food. EFSA surveys have found 40–60% of retail poultry meat for humans contains resistant E. coli. Studies of raw dog foods show resistant E. coli in around 20–30% of samples, sometimes less than what you’ll find on supermarket chicken. So if you’re capable of making a chicken salad without poisoning yourself, you’re capable of handling raw dog food safely.

The idea that raw fed dogs are somehow a unique “public health risk” is misleading. Dogs of all diets lick their owners, lick children’s faces, scavenge in fields, eat cow dung and carrion, and then jump up on the sofa. The suggestion that raw is the only vector of bacteria is one sided. The truth is resistant bacteria are everywhere on our food, in the soil, in rivers, in hospitals. To single out raw diets is less about genuine science and more about protecting business interests.

And that brings us to the elephant in the room: the kibble industry. Kibble is a multi billion pound global business. If the average dog owner starts to grasp that kibble isn’t the pinnacle of canine nutrition, that fresh food leads to longer, healthier lives, the bottom line for those corporations takes a hit. So of course there’s an incentive to keep kibble looking good and raw looking bad. This bias extends right into veterinary schools, where nutrition is often taught in the most basic terms and heavily sponsored by kibble manufacturers. A few hours of lecture time, some slick marketing material, and suddenly a vet feels qualified to warn owners about nutrition while dismissing raw diets out of hand. But if you’ve only ever been taught by the kibble companies, can you really call yourself a nutritionist?

The reality is simple. Feeding dogs a well formulated, fresh diet whether raw or lightly cooked consistently shows higher nutrient absorption, better stools, stronger gut markers and even longer lifespans. Both sides have poor options, yes, but when raw is done properly it isn’t the bogeyman the kibble cartel wants you to think it is. Hygiene is common sense, and the risks are no greater than what already sits in your kitchen. If anything, the biggest risk to your dog’s long term health isn’t a raw diet it’s years of ultra-processed pellets marketed as “complete” while leaving your dog’s body to do double the work and produce double the waste.

30/09/2025   HeadCollar = Suppression, Not Training. Stop Fooling Yourself.

Walk into any pet shop and you’ll see a wall of brightly packaged “solutions” promising to stop your dog pulling on the lead. The names vary Halti, Gentle Leader, figure-of-8, or some new fancy rebrand, but the principle is the same. These devices control your dog by wrapping around their muzzle or head and applying pressure in a way that it forces compliance. Let me repeat that “It Forces Compliance”.

At first glance, it might look clever. The dog pulls, the head turns, and voilà, no more pulling. Owners often praise these gadgets, claiming they transformed their dog’s walking manners overnight. But let’s cut through the marketing shine, these contraptions don’t train your dog, they control your dog. There’s a world of difference.

The reason they appear effective is brutally simple. Imagine walking with a gun pressed against your temple. Are you going to step out of line? Probably not. The same goes for a dog wearing one of these head collars. Dogs aren’t daft. They learn that every time they move forward with any energy, their head is yanked to the side, their nose is pinched, or their muzzle rubbed raw. They comply not because they’ve been taught how to walk calmly, but because they’ve been coerced.

And here’s the irony: dogs themselves don’t have an issue with aversives. Their lives are full of them. Ethologists like John Paul Scott and John Fuller noted way back in the 1960s how mother dogs use a muzzle grasp, a brief, sharp correction to stop pups from biting too hard or getting carried away. It’s clear, quick, and once the pup yields, the pressure disappears. Contrast that with a Halti, instead of a fleeting correction, the pressure sits on the dog’s face for the entire walk. No wonder so many dogs look miserable in these things they’re walking along constantly wondering, “What have I done wrong this time?”

Manufacturers love to “spin” their products capabilities, but the science makes that laughable. Studies on canine stress responses by Beerda et al in the 1990s showed that prolonged, inescapable pressure raises cortisol and heart rate, and creates stress behaviours, while short, predictable signals don’t. A mother dog’s correction teaches. A Halti nags.

And while the packaging tries to paint them as gentle, the physical reality tells a different story. Vets like Gibeault and Landsberg, and later biomechanical studies in Sweden, have warned of torque on the neck and spine when dogs jerk against head collars. We’re talking about delicate cervical vertebrae being twisted in ways they’re not designed for. Owners don’t see it happening in the moment, but months or years later, those unexplained neck issues may well trace back to “the kindest training tool on the market.”

Then there’s the communication problem. Research by Horowitz, Rooney et al shows dogs thrive on clarity they need signals that are sharp, time-bound, and then released. That’s how they communicate with one another. Draw out a signal too long, and it becomes confusing, even stressful. Again, this is the flaw of the Halti. It doesn’t teach in the way dogs naturally learn from each other. It’s just a constant reminder that something is wrong, without ever giving the dog a chance to succeed.

Instead of educating the public, “this device works by applying pressure, and unless paired with training, the pulling will return”, manufacturers slap the word gentle on the front, put a smiling Labrador on the packaging, and push it as a shortcut solution. Owners lap it up, bragging about how their dog now “walks beautifully” with one on, oblivious to the fact that it isn’t training, it’s suppression.

And let’s be blunt: reaching for a Halti or figure-of-8 screams shortcut. It’s lazy dog ownership dressed up as savvy problem solving. These are the same people who beam with pride because their dog is “perfect” now, never realising that perfection vanishes the second the strap comes off. It’s like duct-taping your child to a chair and then congratulating yourself on how polite they are at dinner.

The tragedy is that the dog pays the price. Instead of a walk being the highlight of their day, it becomes something to endure. Instead of enjoying your company, they’re busy trying to avoid discomfort. Old fashioned, consistent, patient training. Teaching your dog to walk calmly by your side requires you to show up, reward the behaviour you want, and give clear boundaries. But the end result is a dog who truly understands and chooses to walk with you—not because of nylon across their nose, but because of trust, clarity, and a true bond.

Halti, Gentle Leaders, figure-of-8s call them what you like, they all paper over cracks instead of fixing them. At best they suppress. At worst they harm. The science shows us dogs learn from clear, short signals and suffer from prolonged ones. The history of dog behaviour tells us mothers don’t nag they correct and move on. But the human love of shortcuts and the marketing gloss of “gentle” devices mean too many dogs are walking around with their heads bound in confusion.

Your dog deserves better. They deserve honesty. They deserve the chance to learn properly. So ditch the gimmicks, pick up your lead, and put in the time. Because if you won’t, the real problem isn’t the dog at the end of the lead, it’s the human holding it.

16/09/2025       The Truth Behind the Grazing Why Do Dogs Eat Grass?

After years of watching dogs happily graze away while owners fret, I think it’s about time we put the myths, the marketing spin, and the old wives’ tales out to pasture. Literally.

Scroll through social media and you’ll find a tidal wave of adverts explaining why your dog eats grass, each one offering a shiny pill or powder to “fix” it. Too much stomach acid? Add this. Missing a magic nutrient? Sprinkle that. Anxiety? Calm them with this supplement. They can’t all be right and the truth is, in this instance I believe they’re all wrong.

Dogs eat grass because they are sick, is a favourite explanation, trotted out in vet waiting rooms and pet forums everywhere. “Oh, poor thing, he must be nauseous.” But research doesn’t really support it. A survey of dog owners published in Applied Animal Behaviour Science showed most dogs that eat grass don’t throw up afterwards. In fact, vomiting is a rare side effect, not the purpose. Dogs that want to vomit are more likely to hoover up fluff, fur, or other indigestibles off the floor, because coarse material is what actually stimulates the reflex.

Reasonable Theory One: Grass Helps Digestion

Grass is fibre, plain and simple, and fibre helps food move through the gut. Wolves, foxes, coyotes all have been found to deliberately consume plant matter. Sometimes it’s from the stomach contents of prey animals, sometimes straight from the ground. Either way, it shows carnivores aren’t strictly “meat only.”

And here’s where the short digestive tract of the dog matters. Dogs evolved as carnivores, and their gut is short compared to herbivores. Meat is energy-dense and digests quickly, but the system needs a little help to move things along at the right pace. Grass provides that push. Insoluble fibre speeds transit just enough to prevent meat sitting too long in the intestine (which can lead to putrefaction and bacterial overgrowth) while still giving the gut time to absorb the nutrients. In essence, a bit of roughage helps a short gut system get the most out of the meat.

It’s also worth remembering that when wild dogs or wolves took down a gazelle, they didn’t stop politely at the steak cuts. They ate the stomach too, full of partially digested grass and enzymes. Our dogs may simply be recreating that ancestral balance and in some instances the consumption of horse sheep or cow poop, yes its disgusting, but this could be a shortcut for the dog to get these digestive enzymes they may need.

Reasonable Theory Two: Parasite Control

There’s also the evolutionary theory that eating fibrous grass helps expel intestinal parasites. Think of it as nature’s pipe cleaner. Some studies suggest younger dogs eat more grass than older ones, possibly because they’re more prone to worm burdens. It’s not proof, but it’s a compelling idea and certainly a more interesting explanation than “they’re bored.”

Reasonable Theory Three: Because They Like It

Sometimes the simplest answer is the right one. Watch a dog grazing and you’ll notice they’re picky. They don’t just hoover up everything; they select the youngest, sweetest shoots. I’ve known Labradors that graze spring grass full of dew. For many dogs, it’s about taste, texture, or even the cooling moisture of fresh blades. It feels good, and that in itself is enough motivation.

Owners, meanwhile, kept the habit of worrying about it because that’s what we do.

Grazing on untreated, pesticide-free grass is perfectly normal. The only time to step in is if your dog is obsessively eating grass, suddenly starts doing it when they never did before, or shows signs of distress, diarrhoea, or bloating. Otherwise, let them graze.

The real danger isn’t the grass itself but what’s on it, fertilisers, weedkillers, slug pellets, or even residues from neighbour’s garden chemicals. If you know your patch is clean, relax. If not, steer them elsewhere.

So next time your dog takes a cheeky nibble, don’t reach for your wallet or Google “best supplement for grass eating.” Just smile, shrug, and remind yourself:

Dogs don’t eat grass because they’re broken; they eat grass because they’re dogs.

And if they prefer it fresh and tender, well, who are we to argue? After all, some of us eat kale.

12/09/2025       Crates: The Unsung Heroes of Dog Ownership

There’s always one person who will pipe up in a discussion about dogs and declare, with great moral certainty, “Crates are cruel! A dog’s safe space should be the whole house!”

To which I say: bonkers. Absolutely, utterly bonkers.

Let’s put it this way: giving a puppy “the whole house” as their safe space is like handing a toddler the keys to a theme park and saying, “Good luck, try not to hurt yourself.” A house is filled with all sorts of hazards: electric cables that beg to be chewed, shoes that smell delicious, soft furnishings that just dare a puppy to rip and swallow, and not to mention foods that can be fatal to a dog. (Chocolate? Grapes? Even onions!)

When people tell me they won’t be using a crate, I don’t argue, I simply tell them they won’t be getting one of our puppies. Why? Because we feel that strongly about it. A crate isn’t about restriction, it’s about protection and development.

Imagine leaving your puppy loose in the house while you pop to the shops. You come back 20 minutes later, and they’ve chewed through a lamp cord, or swallowed a sock, or decided the sofa stuffing looked like marshmallow. You don’t need to imagine the vet bill, you’ll be paying it.

A crate prevents these disasters. It sets boundaries while your pup learns about the world in manageable chunks, and it saves them (and you) from trauma.

The internet loves dogs that follow their owners from room to room. Cute? Maybe. Healthy? Not really. A dog that cannot cope unless it’s glued to your leg is not secure, it’s anxious. Studies show long term stress leads to all sorts of health issues.

Crate training is part of teaching independence. Your dog learns it can be comfortable on its own. And when real life requires separation, work, errands, even just a bathroom break they’re not spiralling into stress.

Here’s a scenario few owners think about until it happens: your dog needs surgery. Nothing too unusual, maybe they’ve been spayed or neutered, or perhaps they’ve torn a ligament. The vet prescribes ten days of crate rest.

Now picture this: your dog has never seen a crate in their life. They’re already sore, groggy, and vulnerable, and now you’re adding confusion and panic because they don’t understand why they’re being “locked up.” Physical pain, plus mental strain.

That’s avoidable. If your dog already knows their crate, slipping back into it after surgery feels natural. Instead of fighting confinement, they relax, recover faster, and you’re spared the stress of trying to improvise a recovery pen in your living room.

Now here’s where I part company with some trainers: they say, “Make the crate a fun, exciting place!” Toss in treats, toys, parties, hype the dog up about it.

I disagree. The crate should be seen as a calm place.

Why? Because when your dog goes in, you want them to settle quickly, not rev themselves up. If the crate is associated with excitement, you’re training them to bring a racing mind into a space meant for rest.

Of course, there’s always someone who will say, “But wouldn’t you hate being locked in a little cage?”

Well, yes, because I’m not a dog. I also wouldn’t eat kibble, chase tennis balls, or roll in fox poo. Dogs are not tiny humans in fur coats, and we do them a great disservice by treating them that way.

Crates are not cruel. They are kind. They protect your puppy from physical harm, help them build resilience, and give them a space of their own. Used properly, a crate is one of the greatest gifts you can give your dog.

So the next time someone insists a dog’s safe space should be “the whole house,” smile politely, and know that you’re raising a pup who is safe, confident, and well-adjusted.........thanks to the humble crate.

31/08/2025       Clever Canine Dining or Just Another Gadget?

If you’ve ever lived with a dog who hoovers up food faster than you can blink, you’ve probably seen the gadgets known as anti-gulp or slow feeder bowls. They come in all sorts of shapes — spirals, mazes, ridges — and promise to turn your Labrador from a Dyson vacuum into a refined dinner guest. But do they actually help, or are we just buying into clever marketing?

The idea is simple: by making food harder to grab in one mouthful, these bowls force dogs to eat more slowly. The supposed benefits include:

• Preventing choking and gagging.

• Reducing inhaling food, promptly vomiting it back up.

• Improving digestion and nutrient absorption.

• Lowering the risk of bloat, that terrifying condition where a dog’s stomach swells and twists.

Sounds good, doesn’t it? Slower eating, healthier dog. But does it?

Now, here’s where things get interesting. Research has shown that dogs who eat quickly may swallow more air, which contributes to stomach distension, one risk factor in bloat. But science hasn’t proven that a slow feeder bowl prevents bloat outright. Breed, chest shape, genetics, and post-meal exercise are much bigger risk factors.

What we do know is that anti-gulp bowls can definitely reduce gagging, coughing, and regurgitation. They also make mealtimes last more than the usual 17 seconds, which isn’t a bad thing. In short, they do what they say on the tin, slow down eating. They’re not miracle workers, but they’re useful.

Here’s a thought that doesn’t get talked about enough: one of the main reasons we even need these bowls is the type of food we’re feeding. Ultra-processed kibble is made in uniform, bite-sized chunks that don’t really require chewing. Dogs often just swallow it whole.

Compare that with a chunk of raw or lightly cooked meat: the dog has to tear, chew, and crunch. That natural process slows eating down and engages their jaws and teeth. With kibble, you end up with food that can be bolted like confetti at a wedding.

So, not only does kibble come with its long-term criticisms — links to cancer, other health issues, poor nutrient absorption, and the ever-charming “more poop out than nutrition in” problem it also creates short-term risks like choking and regurgitation. Which then leads to… yes, you guessed it: humans inventing bowls to fix a problem the food itself helped to cause.

So if your dog regularly gags, vomits, or acts like every meal is an Olympic sport, then yes an anti-gulp bowl is worth the few quid. It’s a quick, easy fix that makes your dog more comfortable.

But let’s not kid ourselves. They’re not a magic shield against bloat, and they don’t solve the root issue of ultra-processed diets. Think of them as doggy fine-dining plates: fun, occasionally useful, but not the answer to all life’s problems.

So by all means, buy the spiral, the maze, or the one that looks like a toddler’s play toy. Your dog will enjoy it. But remember: it’s not the bowl that matters most — it’s what you put in it.

27/08/2025 Do People Really End Up Looking Like Their Dogs?

We’ve all seen it. The man with the bushy beard and an equally shaggy Old English Sheepdog. The woman with sleek blond hair and a glossy Afghan Hound at her side.

It’s one of those old wives’ tales that refuses to go away: do people really end up looking like their dogs? Or is it just something we all want to believe because it’s too funny not to be true?

The joke has been around for centuries — caricaturists, comedians, and even greeting card makers have made a living out of pairing humans with their canine lookalikes. And let’s be honest, it works because there’s often just enough truth to make us double-take.

Coincidence? Maybe not.

Believe it or not, psychologists have put this to the test. In 2004, researchers Michael Roy and Nicholas Christenfeld asked people to try matching photographs of dog owners with their pets. The results? People were better than chance at getting it right.

So what’s going on here? The theory is that people don’t become like their dogs over time — they actually choose dogs that resemble themselves. This is called assortative pairing, and it’s the same psychological quirk that explains why our choices often reflect who we are.

Think of it like your wardrobe. The clothes you pick are usually an expression of your personality — bold and colourful, calm and neutral, practical, or just plain quirky. Dogs work the same way: we gravitate toward breeds that feel like a natural extension of ourselves.

And it’s not just about looks. Personality plays a huge role. Outgoing, sociable people often pick bouncy, friendly breeds. More reserved individuals might lean towards calmer, less demanding dogs. And if you’re naturally active, chances are you’ve picked a breed that won’t mind joining you on your daily 5k.

Of course, once you’ve shared a sofa, a routine, and probably a few snacks, it’s hard not to grow more alike. If your Labrador insists on a second breakfast, well, you might just find yourself joining in. And let’s be honest — if you live with a high-energy Border Collie, your lifestyle is going to change whether you like it or not.

So maybe the old wives’ tale isn’t entirely wrong: it’s not just that we pick dogs like ourselves, but that living with them nudges us even closer together over time.

So the next time someone tells you that you and your dog could be twins, don’t be offended. Take it as proof that you’ve found your four-legged soulmate.

15/08/2025 Harnessing the Truth: Should Your Dog Wear One?

Ah, the great harness debate. Few topics in the dog world stir as much opinionated coffee-shop chatter as whether Fido should don a harness or stick to the good old-fashioned collar and lead. Like pineapple on pizza or whether your dog is really allowed on the sofa, opinions are divided. So, let’s look at both sides.

Safety First: Buckle Up, Pup

If you’ve ever watched your dog hang their entire neck out of a car window like they’re auditioning for a shampoo commercial, you’ve probably worried about travel safety. Harnesses can be a safer way to secure your dog in the car. Unlike collars, which can cause serious neck injuries in a crash or sudden stop, harnesses distribute force across the chest and shoulders.

Pro-harness folks argue: “Would you wear your seatbelt around your throat? No? Then why should your Labrador?” And honestly, they’ve got a point.

The Opposition Reflex: When Pulling Begets More Pulling

Ever notice how when you try to pull your dog back, they lean forward harder? That’s the opposition reflex at work — a basic instinct that says, “Oh, you’re pulling me? Challenge accepted.”

Harnesses, especially poorly fitted ones, can actually make this worse. Your dog digs in, you dig in, and suddenly your “leisurely walk” looks more like a tug-of-war championship. It’s not that your dog is stubborn, it’s that their body is literally programmed to resist being pulled.

The Myth of the No-Pull Harness

Ah yes, the magical “no-pull” harness — the unicorn of the dog accessory world. Marketing would have you believe you just clip one of these babies on and voilà! Your sled-dog-in-training walks like an angel.

Spoiler alert: they don’t. At least, not for long. Some no-pull harnesses redirect the dog’s body when they surge ahead, which can interrupt pulling temporarily. But most dogs quickly adapt — “Oh, we’re zigzagging now? Fine, I’ll still drag you to that squirrel.”

The truth is, no tool can replace actual training. A harness might give you a bit of control, but it’s like slapping a “Detour” sign on a road that still leads to the same destination.

What Science Says About a Good Harness

Not all harnesses are created equal. A well-designed harness should:

• Avoid pressure on the neck and throat (because windpipes are kind of important).

• Sit comfortably across the chest without rubbing armpits raw.

• Allow free movement of the shoulders so your dog doesn’t end up with a funny gait.

Think of it like buying running shoes: a bad fit leads to long-term problems, while the right fit makes life more comfortable — and keeps your dog safe.

The Training Angle (a.k.a. the Bit Nobody Wants to Hear)

Here’s the hard truth: if your dog pulls like a freight train, the harness isn’t the problem. The training is. Harnesses, head collars, and figure-of-eight leads are all management tools, not miracle cures.

Yes, a Halti might give you a sense of control. A figure-of-eight lead might make pulling uncomfortable enough to discourage it. But none of these are substitutes for teaching your dog how to walk politely at your side and are aversive tools…. another bit nobody wants to hear.

So… Harness or Not?

On one hand, harnesses can improve safety during travel and, when properly fitted, reduce strain on the neck during walks. On the other hand, they can encourage pulling if used as a shortcut instead of alongside training.

The balanced answer: A good harness is a tool, not a trainer. If you want stress-free walks, invest in teaching your dog how to walk with you, not just what to wear while doing it.

Because at the end of the day, your dog doesn’t care if they’re in a harness, a collar, or a pink tutu. They just want to go for a walk — preferably toward that squirrel.

08/08/2025 How Long Can Dogs Remember?

It’s a question I get asked surprisingly often. The short answer? It depends on whether we’re talking about short-term memory or the kind of memory that helps them connect dots and form habits.

Short-term memory isn’t their strongest suit. That’s why, when toilet training a puppy, I always recommend waiting around five minutes before bringing them back inside. That little pause acts like a “memory reset” and prevents them from associating going to the toilet with being whisked indoors immediately. Skip that pause, and you may accidentally teach your pup the opposite of what you want—that relieving themselves means the fun outside time is cut short. Suddenly, they’re holding on, not because they’re stubborn, but because their little doggy brain has built a perfectly logical association: “If I pee, the fun ends.”

But here’s where it gets interesting: while dogs don’t have the best short-term memory in the way we think of it, their associative memory is outstanding. This is the very skill that lets them pick up patterns and link events together. For example, that moment you grab the lead? Boom—your dog transforms into a pogo stick because they’ve learned to string together the subtle clues: lead = walk, walk = adventure, adventure = best day ever.

This associative ability is a double-edged sword, though. Get it right, and your dog quickly learns useful habits (like sitting politely for a treat). Get it wrong, and you might accidentally teach lessons you never intended (like “toilet = end of garden fun”).

And that’s the heart of training: understanding that your dog’s memory isn’t about recalling random details like where they left their toy five minutes ago. Instead, it’s about how they link experiences. Those links can either make your training life a dream… or a bit of a comedy of errors.

Tips to Boost Your Dog’s Memory (and Your Bond)

Want your pup to remember you—not just your scent, but the good times, the laughs, and the love? Here are some effective, easy, and fun ways to build those lasting memories:

• Repeat with consistency: Stick to fun rituals—like game time—so your dog links the action with joy.

• Engage multiple senses: Combine cues—like a word, a touch, and a familiar toy scent—to make the memory three times stickier.

• Emotions matter: If something is exciting or comforting, it gets logged in long-term memory. So laugh, play, whisper “good girl” in silly voices—emotion is memory fuel.

Now if we are thinking about long term memory a couple of examples from my own experience lead me to believe that longer-term memories can stretch to at least three years.

• I visited a vet’s office where, a puppy I had bred, now a full grown dog was with their owner, I had not seen owner or dog in 18 months.. On making a sound that I use around all pups we have bred, the puppy sprinted across the room, barking with joy, as if reunited with a long-lost friend.

• Many dogs return years later to see me, hopping out of the car in sheer excitement, barking and bounding around. Their owners are often amazed, saying as they turned down our lane the dogs behaviour changed “they knew where they were” owners often say, so true for in the dogs brain turning down that lane means reunion.

and there’s even a dog coming back tomorrow after been away for five years. Only time—and maybe tail wags—will confirm it.

And if all this has not convinced you of a dogs memory capabilities, then search for a dog called Chaser……………...

01/08/2025 The Myth of the Indestructible Dog Toy

If I had a pound for every time I’ve heard a fellow dog owner say, “He ripped the squeaker out in seconds!”, I’d probably have enough to buy a small mountain of those so-called “indestructible” toys. (Which, of course, would be promptly destroyed.)

Walk down the pet shop aisle or scroll online and you’ll find an endless array of dog toys. Brightly coloured rubber bones, plush animals with squeakers, balls that claim to bounce forever, tug ropes, puzzle toys… the list goes on. And the prices? They can range from a few quid to nearly eye-watering sums for the “premium” brands. The sad truth is that price doesn’t always equal quality — some of the most expensive toys can still be shredded faster than a tissue in a washing machine.

And here’s the thing: it’s not just frustrating for us humans, it can be dangerous for our dogs. Those squeakers, bits of stuffing, or fragments of broken plastic don’t just vanish once they’re torn out. Left unsupervised, a determined chewer can swallow them, leading to choking hazards or worse.

So, it begs the question: why are we leaving dogs with toys just to destroy them? Is it really “fun” for them, or is it simply a few minutes of noisy chaos followed by a pile of fluff and a disappointed owner?

The costs soon add up too. Research suggests the average dog owner spends well over £100 a year replacing damaged or destroyed toys — often without ever finding one that lasts more than a week. That’s a lot of money for very little return.

Our philosophy is a bit different. We believe in giving dogs natural chews that are designed to satisfy their need to gnaw while being safe, durable, and cost-effective. Things like buffalo horns, deer antlers, or olive wood chews not only last far longer than most shop-bought toys, but they’re also safer and provide real enrichment.

That doesn’t mean toys don’t have their place — they do. But rather than handing them over for dogs to self-satisfy and destroy, we see toys as a way to build your bond. A game of tug, fetch, or hide-and-seek with a toy is about more than chewing — it’s about connection, training, and fun together.

So maybe the next time you see an “indestructible” toy on the shelf, you’ll smile knowingly and keep walking. Because the truth is, it’s not about finding a toy that lasts forever — it’s about making playtime meaningful, safe, and enjoyable for both you and your dog.