THE INCREDIBLE CAIRN NOSE

 

                                        BY BILL JUNEAU 

                                          Our dogs are incredible Cairn terriers who like nothing better than to take a walk and check out the terrain.  Their noses are an incomparable machine and they go to work, sorting out the various smells and odors.  Sometimes, the fouler, the better; so foul, in fact, that rolling in it is a compulsion that only a leash can forestall.  One dog aficionado has noted that canines have a "bizarre obsession with a pile of poo."
                                             They enjoy sniffing the earth and foreign objects and I wonder what is so interesting to them?  As to us humans, we pick up a scent here and there.  Gasoline or the pleasant aroma of a bakery can catch our attention.  But the noses of our four-footed friends can really put us to shame when it comes to picking up a wafting aroma or a down-in-the-ground miasma.   Some experts put the ratio at about 100,000 to one in terms of superior canine sniffing power.  Others say a million to one is more like it.          
              

                              When dogs sniff something, they are not just registering a smell, they get an entire story.  Sometimes it is so good that they will literally tremble in excitement as they sniff every molecule. 
                             What they are smelling is pheromone (a chemical substance)  which is not only found in the urine and fecal deposits, but also on skin and fur.  From this they can tell a lot about another dog, including if they are male or female, what they ate, where they have been, what they have touched, if they are ready to mate, if they have recently given birth, or had a false pregnancy, and what mood they are in.
                                              Dr. Stanley Coren, a professor of psychology and a prize winning dog trainer and authority on dog intelligence, is pretty much the final word for me when it comes to scoping out what our friendly canines can do. He explains that for dogs and certainly for our Cairns, sniffing is like reading the headlines in a newspaper.  Dog urine is like a gossip column and the sniffers are able to pick up all kinds of hot info.  Could be that some young lady barker is in heat or that other virile newcomers are hanging around?                        
                                               How sensitive is that dog nose?  In one test, it has been reported that a single mouse was placed in a one-acre field and it took a few beagles less than a minute to nail the tiny rodent. Now that is smelling.  Interestingly, Coren notes that Scottish terriers are not at the top of the list when it comes to tracking but they can certainly hold their own.
                                                Dogs can detect some odors in parts per trillion, dog scientists say. The federal government often speaks in trillions of dollars so we know that is a mighty big number. In her book, "Inside of a Dog," Alexandra Horowitz, a dog-cognition researcher, has written that where a coffee drinker might notice the addition of teaspoon of sugar to his brew, a dog could detect a teaspoon of sugar in a million gallons of water. Another dog expert has reported that the "foodaholic" canine is able to catch a whiff of one rotten apple in two million barrels.                                                                                              The really great sniffers are a familiar sight at airports.  They are  trained to spot illegal substances, including explosives, in the air, on persons or in luggage.  Loyal noses go side by side with our soldiers and with policemen sniffing and warning of danger in one way or another. And dogs have been known to identify the beginning of diseases when no equipment in the hands of a physician can find anything amiss and they are often seen at the sites of disasters helping to find corpses. How could they not have our respect and admiration--and maybe a little envy from a species unable to sniff out all but the most obvious odors?
                                                   Maybe the Cairn's nose won't match up to a Beagle or some other police dogs or trackers,  but their noses are still a quivering hot spot and they know when there is food in the air or a treat in a pocket.  Those ears go up and the tail stands tall.  The Cairn's sense of smell is not a million times better than ours, maybe only a couple hundred thousand times as good. 
                                                   So what about that Cairn nose in our house?  Naturally, a good long walk is the place where  Sammi Smith  and Wendy will glean information from the ground, hydrants, telephone poles, even a blade of grass. But inside our home, we add another sniffing opportunity:  we occasionally play the game "where is it?"  In that game we give our dogs a whiff of a treat, and then close them off while we carefully hide the treasures.  We pick the room, but don't tell them, we just leave all doors open.  When they get the command, 'Where is it" they take off and they do not stop until the treat is gobbled down.  The hunt is frantic, and usually over in just a few minutes.  
                                                 Do you think that your welcoming Cairn can detect with his nose any fear or sadness or anxiety?  Researchers say that when you are down, your four-footed buddy will know.  Such human conditions are accompanied by increased heart rate and blood flow which sends tell-tale chemicals to the skin surface.  A smile might convince some associates that you are at the top of your game, but you won't fool your best friend and his handsome black nose as he extends his greeting.    
                                                 We love to see examples of our cairns' sensitive noses, but sniffing and hunting are just part of their canine charms. They can amuse in a million ways--chasing a tennis ball to the point of exhaustion, drooling over the same old boring kibble day after day, snuggling up to us on the couch in the evening. But the best part of having a dog is the lifetime of companionship they provide. I cannot imagine a home without a dog.  For me, I'll take the Cairn Terrier with the inquisitive look and the carrot tail.  Do you agree?  

RAINBOW BRIDGE, AND WE'LL MEET AGAIN

 

                         By Bill Juneau

                              When you come to that sad and distressing moment when you must bid goodbye to your dog, remember that the farewell may not be forever.  There is some very good authority telling us that there will be a happy reunion with that faithful little fur head at the glorious Rainbow Bridge, gateway to Heaven.                                          The grief at losing that special pet is profound, almost indescribable.  In some ways it is similar to the sadness suffered at the loss of a human friend or relative; but different since we have always believed that we will be reunited with them in the afterlife. 
                               So what is the deal with our four-footed friends.  Is it true that all dogs go to heaven?  Mark Twain has noted that "Heaven goes by favor; If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in."   But that only begs the question. 
                                              Along that same line, a prominent European writer has noted that dogs are our link to paradise.  "They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent.  To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden where doing nothing was not boring --it was peace."                

                               Not too long ago, America was blessed with a visit from Pope Francis.  We heard his voice calling for peace in the world and for love and respect for all men.  But in another earlier message, the Pontiff observed that our four-footed friends are not lost forever and that "Paradise is open to all of God's creatures."   Really good news for us dog people.

                              Actually,  Francis is not the only Pontiff who has said that beloved pets do not make a permanent departure.   Some years ago, Pope Paul VI, while consoling a broken-hearted little boy whose pet had died, told the youngster that he would again see his dog in the "eternity of Christ."  His words were very comforting to the boy;  and yes, those words resonate in the same way with us old timers whose time on this earth is coming to an end. We are like our dogs, "short timers."  And it is good to know that religious experts confirm our long-held belief that we will be reunited with every dog we've ever had when that time comes.   

                            Will Rogers, a man who loved his furry companions, would be pleased too.   This great humorist once said that "if there are no dogs in heaven, then, when I die,  I want to go where they went."  Well with the popes and others passing on the question, it is looking pretty good.  They will be there and we'll see them so long as we make it there too.   

                             There are hundreds of millions of dog owners in the world and more frequently than not, a special steely bond develops between the canine and his owner.  There are those who do not or have never owned a dog, and perhaps regard the relationship as mythical rather than mystical.  But I know I am right; the relationship is special--ask any pet owner. 

                              I remember when I was a soldier in Korea, I owned a small terrier-type pooch named Maggie and she was with me most hours of virtually every day of  my 16-months in that far-away country.  When I walked guard duty with a rifle, Maggie was there and when I was in the mess hall she waited outside by the door; and at bedtime, my cot and sleeping bag were her bed too.  On our small compound in Ouijongbu, soldiers with their dogs were quite common and unrestricted on many posts in this land where America had gone to defend. 

                             Sadly, when I said goodbye to Korea, I had to say farewell also to Maggie. I can still see her to this day,  sitting by the side of a road, ears up, watching and alert as our truck pulled away.  I loved that little lady, and I am hoping that Maggie will be around to greet me at that famous bridge beyond the stars.  
                            Occasionally, I think back about our four-footed friends and their special place in life and I am reminded of the words of an old Missouri lawyer who, reflecting on our furry companions, observed that "the one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous . . . is his dog."  

                           To dog aficionados, and maybe to Pope Francis himself, there is the story of the  "Rainbow Bridge."  Accordingly, when a pet dies, it goes to a meadow and is restored to perfect health, and spends its days running and playing with other dogs, with plenty of fresh food and water. The only thing that is not perfect is that he misses his owner left behind on earth.  When the owner dies, he approaches the meadow and it is at that moment that his pet sees him and their eyes meet.  Excited, the pet runs to the owner's arms licking his face in joy, and side by side they cross the Rainbow Bridge together into heaven, never again to be separated.

                          Today, my wife, Chrissy and I have two dogs,  Cairn Terriers by breed, each weighing about 15 pounds.  They look like the dog, Toto, in the movie The Wizard of Oz.  Sammi is wheaten-colored and Wendy is Black. They are non-stop yappers and never saw a bird or leaf that did not require their comment; the arrival of the pool man or the dry cleaner is enough to provoke a deafening frenzy.  Yet, we have bonded with them in a big way, and it is impossible to imagine life without them.  But a dog's life is short, and we have had other dogs before them, all of whom became special and unforgettable. We are happy about Pope Francis's views on the matter.        

                         One final word on dogs and the hereafter: Elizabeth Marshall Thomas, author of "The Secret Life of Dogs," was asked in an interview if she believed that all dogs go to heaven. Her answer was logic at its best: "If there are no dogs there, it is not heaven."