The Healing Power of Dogs

Can untrained dogs detect human illness?

Wed, 30 Dec 2009 22:06:55 -0500

Can dogs sense health problems arising in human beings?
Certainly, highly trained canines can sniff out cancer in urine samples. Research at Cancer and BioDetection Dogs in Aylsbury, England, has proven that. Research at the Pine Street Foundation in San Anselmo, California, proved that dogs could sniff out cancer in human breath samples. But can they alert to what’s happening within the human body? Can they alert to a problem in a living, breathing person?  My book, Paws & Effect: The Healing Power of Dogs covers these questions extensively. When I asked on the Internet, Has your dog ever alerted you to a health problem? The anecdotal evidence was strong. People insisted their dogs had alerted to seizures, heart attacks, skin cancer, migraine headaches and various other ailments.   On Christmas, in the early morning, I woke suddenly. A glance at the digital clock told me it was 2 a.m. I couldn’t move; as I woke, I realized it was because Clarissa was lying on my chest. She is a Miniature Dachshund who always makes me laugh. “What are you doing?” I asked her. I slid her back to my side, her usual spot. A Dachshund against your side is a wonderful, warm, soft log. She usually didn’t move the whole night. She had never climbed on my chest before.  Looking at my bed, I was struck by the changed positions of the other three dogs who sleep with me. They are little ten-pound Brussels Griffons. Stella is a snob; she lies at the foot of the bed, far from the rest of us. Katie and Nessie curl up in the pillows and blankets near me, not touching. But at this moment, all four dogs were packed against me. Why?  Maybe it was unusually cold tonight…. no, that wasn’t it. Was it emotional, were they feeling a need to be close to me? No, we demonstrated our love for each other openly. No need to rub up against me tonight. Maybe a scary noise? I listened through the dark for sounds of an intruder. But if that had been the problem, they would be alert, looking in the direction of the noise. That wasn’t it. I had the feeling they were trying to protect me. From what?  My head nodded and I fell back to sleep. But not for long. At 4:30 a.m., strong, strangling chest pains awakened me. Oh, no. Not another heart attack. I got up and tried to take inventory of my body. The pain was intense.  Four years ago, I’d suffered terrible chest pains one afternoon. After two hours, I’d felt relief. But my cardiologist informed me that I’d had a heart attack. Next time, she warned, you must get to the hospital right away. If you get here quickly, we can do something. This attack damaged your heart.  Tonight, with no relief in sight, I succumbed to her advice and got to the hospital. I hoped they would simply test me, inform me that I was fine, and I’d go home. Unfortunately, human medicine is not yet at a point where they can immediately know if you are having a heart attack, even after blood tests and electrocardiograms. To my dismay, I was kept all day and overnight for observation.   It was Christmas day. I couldn’t get in touch with any of my dogsitters. They didn’t answer the phones at their homes. I didn’t have their various cell phone numbers with me. I reached a rather faraway friend who helped me analyze the situation; yes, I’d left the dogs with plenty of kibble and water. The two more aggressive ones were isolated in the kitchen. The other four were in the dog room, where they could use the dog door to go in and out. There really wasn’t any immediate reason to panic. She promised to go to my house if I wasn’t there by tomorrow.   Mid-afternoon, the pains started to subside. “Everything about this suggests it is esophageal, not cardiac,” said Dr. Hagaman. “But you still have to stay overnight.”  The next day I happily left the cardiac care unit and rushed home. I was surprised at what I found. The dogs had behaved perfectly. Nothing in the kitchen was chewed or moved. Their waste was neatly deposited on the newspaper in the back hallway, as I’d trained them to do.  In the dog room, same thing. No one had torn the wool out of a plush bed or chewed off someone else’s collar. The stuffed toys were undamaged. The place was clean, almost as if they’d wiped their feet when coming in. My dogs love to be naughty. They make bigger messes than this when I go to the corner store. To be perfectly good for more than 24 hours suggested a deliberate change in behavior.  Why? Of course, the thought went through my mind; did they somehow know I was sick? And what about last night, Clarissa on my chest and the others packed tight against me? Had they known about the esophageal problem arising?   As a journalist, I maintain a skeptical attitude. From my research, I know dogs have the ability send a warning. They know when something is wrong. Was my dogs’ reaction an attempt to alert me? I’m still asking myself that.

The Dogs of Christmas

Sat, 19 Dec 2009 19:54:12 -0500

One of the things I enjoy most at Christmas is getting cards and photos from all the people who’ve adopted dogs from me over the years.

Lily the Dachshund

Fri, 27 Feb 2009 22:03:57 -0500

Today we are in Aspen.

I really enjoy blogging -- my blog at examiner.com -- Pet Life National blogger-- gives me the chance to reach a national audience of dog lovers.

Check it out at examiner.com - Pets -- Pet Life -- Sharon Sakson. http://www.examiner.com/National-Pets.html

See you there!

My blog has moved!

Mon, 23 Feb 2009 00:03:37 -0500

I’ve signed on as the Pet Life blogger for Examiner.com! My blog will be appearing at examiner.com three times a week. Check it out! See you there!

A pet for every person

Wed, 18 Feb 2009 09:58:36 -0500

Eight people gathered around the fireplace at the Vagabond Inn in Naples, New York, last weekend. As we relaxed in comfy chairs and sipped wine from local vineyards, the talk turned eventually to our pets.
Bryna played on the floor with my Whippet, Scout. “We’re getting a dog soon,” she said. Her husband, Brian, nodded. They were young and newly married. They were being responsible by waiting until they could move to a house with a fenced yard and until their work schedules coordinated to leave them time for a dog in their lives.
Sarah talked about her two cats. “They are like dogs,” she said. When we all smiled, she insisted, “I know people say that’s impossible, but these cats come when we call them! When we get home from work, they are waiting at the front door. They start jumping up and down because they are so happy to see us.”
We all agreed that was strange for cat behavior. I told the little cat joke that I love, “Dogs have owners. Cats have staff.”
“We both had dogs before we got married. And we want another dog. But right now, we couldn’t give a dog the kind of time it needs,” she explained. “These cats fill a huge hole in our lives.”
Several people looked away; they weren’t able to put into words what their pet meant to them.
The inn owner, Patti Fitzgerald, said, “When I get really stressed, I go down to the barn and brush my horses. That does it for me. I get completely peaceful.”
Brian had been quiet throughout the conversation. Now, he spoke up. “I click with reptiles,” he said somewhat sheepishly. “I know it sounds strange, and I can’t explain it, but reptiles do it for me. I lost my Cobra snake last year, and I still miss him.”
This was interesting. I’ve always wondered about people who choose lizards, tortoises, and snakes for their pets. Do they get the same kind of love and attention that we get from our dogs, cats, and horses? I was about to ask Brian this question when Patti came back into the room holding a four-legged green creature. “This is my son’s Bearded Dragon,” she said. She laid it on Brian’s chest. Immediately, a kind of softening came over his features. He stroked the lizard gently. It clung to his chest and didn’t move, but I have to admit there seemed to be some kind of communication there between the two.

We were a group of strangers who had chosen the same place to stay in the Finger Lakes area of New York. After talking about our pets, we felt like old friends. We exchanged email addresses and went on our way, but we had each deepened our understanding of what pets mean in our world.

(My exciting news -- from now on I will be blogging at examiner.com as Pet Life Examiner. Hopefully, I will get to share my love of pets with a wider audience.)