The suburban choir of dogs that shames us all: what you can do.

Chances are that at some time in your life you have been annoyed by barking or howling dogs in your neighbourhood. Be it the constant daytime yappers, the intermittent howlers or the midnight patrol, a constant barrage of canine voices – especially at times when we want our peace – can test the patience of most people, including animal lovers.

But apart from the nuisance factor those voices are often trying to communicate something. Instead of listening and understanding though, we routinely just want the noise to go away. Putting the suburban choir of dogs on the same level as noise from building sites or overzealous gardeners with their power tools ignores the real problem: why are those dogs barking so much?

Why dogs bark

Every dog barks. It is normal dog behaviour and something we humans have bred into them to protect us and our stuff. But there is no such dog who only barks when there’s an intruder on the property and the family is in danger. Dogs cannot make such subtle distinctions. That’s why visitors and neighbours often get the same noisy treatment as the ‘baddies’. That’s why people who walk past the dog’s fenced yard get barked at. That’s why delivery people are the most hated individuals in the canine universe.

Dogs bark at stuff they are not familiar with and they do so because they feel threatened, i.e. because of fear. The reason behind this is often insufficient socialisation as a puppy, but genetics also play a role. Being afraid of the unknown has always been an important trait for survival. No animal can simply shake off its evolutionary history. Not even humans.
And then there are of course those dogs that we specifically raise and train to be guard dogs. Rather than socialising them, we exploit their fear of strangers to achieve their ‘protective quality’ for our own purposes. Those dogs rarely make good neighbours.

Modern dogs also spend far too much time on their own. They sit at home all day waiting for their people to come home. They have nothing to do and may therefore chew the couch to pieces, dig up the garden or bark the neighbourhood down. It could simply be boredom or it could be distress because they are left alone. If a dog has full blown separation anxiety, they suffer a state of severe panic every time their family is away. It is a terrible way to spend one’s life.

Arousal by wildlife or other creatures of the night is a particular problem for dogs who sleep outdoors. Some dogs do just fine sleeping outside, but if a dog’s mental, physical and emotional needs aren’t met, if they feel lonely or if they are prone to bark at noises or anything that moves at night, they’ll likely join the midnight choir. That’s why it’s best to keep dogs indoors where they belong: with their families.

How not to complain

Complaining to the dog’s owners can be a delicate mission.  Unless you know the people well, how do you think they’ll react? If you are only concerned with yourself or your patience has been stretched too far, you might not even care. Maybe you simply drop an angry note in the person’s letter box and threaten with calling the authorities if things don’t change pronto.

However, if you are even slightly concerned about the dog’s wellbeing (or if this is your primary motive) or you want to stay on good terms with those neighbours, it’s best to use a non-confrontational approach. It’s also better for your own stress levels.

If someone worries their dog may create trouble with neighbours and possibly the law, they may take desperate measures. Even people who love their dogs could resort to suppressive and even cruel methods, such as citronella collars and electric (shock) collars – anything to stop their dog from barking. This will solve the problem for the humans but not for the dog. In fact such measures can be catastrophic for the dog.

Bypassing the owners and going straight to the authorities can have similar detrimental results for the dog. Depending on a particular council’s policy, the owner may first be reminded of their duty of care for the animal but, unless there is a serious case of cruelty, it’s usually ‘case closed’ once the barking has stopped, no matter how this was achieved.

Working towards a solution

The best approach is to be constructive. If there is a dog in your neighbourhood that annoys or concerns you, first ask the owners politely if they are aware that their dog barks a lot at such and such times. Who knows, they may not even have noticed if no one has told them before. Ideally, you do this in person (far less room for misinterpretations) but if you don’t feel comfortable, just put it in writing.

I would avoid going into too much detail about how you are affected by the dog’s noise. There is usually no need to elaborate on your lack of sleep, how much it stresses you out and other inconveniences caused by the dog. The goal at this stage is to make your neighbours aware that there is a problem, not to make them feel defensive (which is what generally happens when you blame people). Your neighbours will most likely feel bad anyway when they learn their dog causes a noise problem. They don’t need the blame. They need solutions and support.

If the barking happens at night, it is still a good idea to pretend the barking may have gone unnoticed. For all you know, the owners may work at night. Finally, even if there is awareness about the dog’s vocalisations, there may be genuine ignorance, subconscious denial of the severity of the problem or a feeling of helplessness. You won’t know until you start a conversation.

If you decide to add an assessment, make sure you don’t “go all expert on them” (even if you happen to be a trained animal behaviourist). For example, you could say the dog seems to be stressed when alone or the dog seems to be over-stimulated by the wildlife at night – whatever the situation is. By doing so you show your neighbours that you have sympathy. This can in turn mean the difference between the dog receiving genuine help or having an “anti-bark” collar slapped on them. It’s an animal welfare issue, so unless you are a cold-hearted person, please consider the consequences for the dog.

You could even go further and mention that you know someone who had the same problem with their dog and solved it by keeping the dog indoors. Who cares if you actually do know a person or if you only heard about that ‘someone’ somewhere (like right here right now), it’s still good advice. Furthermore, you could add links and references to positive reinforcement trainers and websites*.
Another possibility, just in case you have the time and inclination, is to offer to look after the dog while the owners are away.

If your friendly approach is met with silence or does not lead to a reduction in barking, send a note a couple of weeks later using slightly firmer but still polite vocabulary. For example, you might ask first if they have received your previous note (maybe it got lost?). Then ask if they have started working with a trainer or behaviourist to solve the problem.
You could also say you hope they take the problem seriously for the sake of their dog and the neighbourhood. And you could mention that other neighbours are concerned as well.

After you have sent two or three notes – always polite but each time with a more urgent call to action – it is time to contact the authorities.

 

Not starting the communication with assumptions about the owners’ character or conduct is definitely the way to go. Too many problems and misunderstandings are caused by making assumptions about others. By keeping an open mind and not being judgemental you can help solve the problem for everyone involved rather than adding to it. And how good would that be?
 

 
 

*The Pet Professional Guild Australia, The Association for Force-Free Pet Professionals
Association of Pet Dog Trainers Australia

Hands-off dog training beats physical manipulation

While on a beautiful early morning dog walk the other day my relaxed mood suddenly evaporated when a man pushed his little dog. Although I only saw the event out of the corner of my eye, the result was plain to see. The dog recoiled from her human’s hand with ears flattened and tail tucked away under her belly. Unfortunately it didn’t seem to be a problem for her human who insisted his dog had an attitude and simply “didn’t like it” when he “told her off”.  But it is a problem. What the little dog displayed was fear, nothing else, and it is something that is neither needed nor should it be wanted in modern dog training. The push might not have been hard and it is very possible the man did not intend to cause fear in his dog, at least not of the lasting kind. But the person’s motivation and the dog’s response are, sadly, very common.

Every push is one step closer to disaster

The push was a result of the dog jumping up at people – a very normal and understandable behaviour, especially in small dogs who find themselves far away from people’s faces. All the dog demonstrated was friendly greeting behaviour but what she eventually got in return – from the person she should trust the most – was physical assault. If repeated often enough with significant force or if done once with outright violence, pushing the dog away may indeed stop her from jumping up at people in the future but it’s usually not the only consequence. When the little dog responded with avoidance to her human’s outstretched hand shortly after the push, one problematic result was already visible. She had learned that bad things come from the hands of her human – a disaster in any human-canine relationship. This can easily generalize to create fear of all human hands, including those of a child who may innocently approach the dog one day and force the dog into self-defence mode. Not a good situation and entirely avoidable.

Yanking and pulling means loss of control

This past week I was also unlucky enough to witness several incidents of “yanking and pulling” by people walking their dogs.  This manifests itself either in form of having constant pressure on the lead and frequently dragging the dog away from something or as intermittent violent jerking on the lead which sometimes can pull a dog off their feet. Either way, it’s bad. If the experience is unpleasant for the dog – which in most cases it would be – the dog is likely to develop negative associations with their handler and whatever else they happen to be aware of at that moment – another dog, a pedestrian, a cyclist, children playing, etc. Again, this is usually not what is intended. A person pulling on their dog’s lead is trying to gain control. They are trying to keep the dog away from others or want the dog to walk nicely by their side. But pulling and yanking are not methods of gaining effective and lasting control. The dog’s impulse to rush towards other dogs, people or interesting smells remains unchanged but is thwarted or suppressed by their humans forceful manhandling. The result is frustration and possibly aggression which can be directed at anything in the dog’s vicinity. And if the dog lunges towards other dogs because they already suffer from fear-aggression, adding more unpleasant experiences by yanking the dog will only increase their negative emotions and make things worse. Yanking on a dog’s lead is a crude and dangerous method. It shows a lack of understanding or – worse – a disregard of dog behaviour and animal learning principles and therefore a lack of control by the handler.

Forced socialisation risks “anti-socialisation”

No better than forcefully yanking a dog away from another dog or person is to drag a dog closer to these targets. This type of manhandling is generally with good intentions since the handler apparently hopes to improve their dog’s social skills. Sadly, the opposite is more likely to happen. Being forced to endure the proximity of something that makes the dog afraid or even just uncomfortable is bound to increase those emotions and can lead to aggression if the dog feels the need for self-defence. A variation of this type of “forced socialisation” is to pick the dog up and hold them close to other dogs or people. Imagine how a dog must feel being in this helpless position, their human’s hands firmly clasped around their body, feet off the ground and with no way of escaping.  It is at the very least unpleasant but for sensitive or fearful dogs it can be a nightmare. The risk of “flooding” the dog with negative emotions and sensitize them even further is extremely high, yet the humans putting their dogs in these difficult situations see no problem with it.
 

The reason that manhandling dogs is still so common is due to the history of dog training, the focus on dominance, the misinterpretation of dog behaviour and the sometimes desperate desire of dog guardians to be in control. Often this need for control is reactive. Rather than planning ahead and teaching a dog necessary skills step-by-step and with modern, reward-based and force-free methods, many guardians respond to situations spontaneously and emotionally. They may get angry with their dog or be embarrassed when others witness their dog’s “bad” behaviour. But putting an untrained dog into situations they can’t handle is extremely unfair to the dog and puts unnecessary stress on dog and handler. It’s a recipe for disaster.  The only way to get consistent and reliable “good” behaviour from your dog is by rewarding the dog for small steps towards the end goal and setting them up for success. This means putting your dog in a position where they are able and willing to pay attention to you – no distractions, no fear, rewards that are motivating for your dog – and gradually moving up in difficulty. This is no different to a person learning a complex skill. You don’t put a child in front of a piano for the first time and then smack them over the head if they are unable to play Beethoven. But that is exactly the level of “performance” that seems to be expected from dogs. Underlying these expectations is a tendency to interpret dog behaviour in human terms and as being rooted in “attitude”. If a dog behaves “badly”, it is easier to blame it on the dog’s character (stubborn, dominant, stupid, silly) than to accept one’s own fault of not considering or understanding what motivates dogs. Training a dog is work. Pushing and pulling them around is often easier.

Do your dog and yourself a favour and take “the long road” to train your dog. It may be faster than you think but most importantly you are far more likely to reach your goals. Be smart and learn from reward-based, force-free dog training professionals, be patient and have fun. It’s a high return investment and it carries zero risk.

 

RESOURCES

Reward Based Training by AVA (Australian Veterinary Association), PDF
The Use of Punishment for Behavior Modification in Animals by AVSAB (American Veterinary Society of Animal Behavior), PDF

Voice control in dog training: Master your own voice.

We rarely think about the sound of our own voice and many of us are unpleasantly surprised the first time we hear it. But, given how important verbal communication is for our species, it pays to understand how we use our voice and how it is received by others. Our dogs are often at the receiving end of our verbal outpour, but how do you evaluate the effect it has on your dog? Not only can a dog not talk back, they also process the information quite differently to humans.

Common problems when talking to your dog are related to using cues that your dog hasn’t learned yet, repeating cues too many times, getting the timing wrong, giving the wrong or no feedback or generally talking too much. But apart from missing valuable information or becoming “white noise” for your dog, your voice can become an even more serious problem when it inadvertently slips into a “commanding” or even angry voice. If you want your dog to truly listen to you, it is worthwhile to pay attention not just to what you say and when, but also how you say it.

Aggressive voices create negative emotions

It is remarkably easy to raise one’s voice or change one’s tone without planning it and without calculating the effect it may have on others. It happens when our brain spontaneously responds to emotions such as anger or fear. Before we get the chance to consciously think about an appropriate response, the words have already been uttered. While the words themselves may not mean much to a dog, the tone can trigger a flood of negative emotions. It has been shown that verbal aggression by parents can have similar detrimental effects on children as physical abuse1, and this even when the parents are otherwise loving and supportive. Although the loudness and aggressive tone may only be partially relevant in human-human communication (next to the actual content), it is nevertheless a potential source of distress for the recipient as well as anyone listening. Of course an occasional incident of parents losing their cool is not automatically damaging to a child’s emotional health. At least with older kids, it is generally possible to have a talk about it afterwards and explain why you lost the plot.

But how confusing and potentially frightening must it be for a dog, an animal who is not capable of explaining human behaviour, if the person they are attached to (you) becomes aggressive, verbally or otherwise? Even if they do link your aggression to their own behaviour and subsequently avoid that behaviour in future – at least in front of you! – , the potential emotional fallout cannot be ignored. The realisation that “yelling – like spanking – does not teach the child anything about how to behave appropriately”1, applies just as much to dogs. A raised voice does not teach your dog what you want them to do. It simply leaves your dog with a negative emotional memory. Especially if raising your voice is a frequent occurrence, those memories will most likely affect your dog’s emotional well-being, their future behaviour and the relationship they have with you. And not for the better.

Take control of your voice

Using your voice carefully when talking to your dog is about self-awareness and self-discipline. This will be easier if you have a clear goal of how you want your dog to behave, what it takes to teach the behaviour and an understanding of exactly what your dog has learned so far. If your dog engages in an unwanted behaviour or doesn’t listen to you, making anthropomorphic assumptions about your dog’s motivation is not helpful. For example, if you believe your dog is recalcitrant, disobedient or dominant, you are likely to experience negative emotions and therefore more likely to respond in an emotional manner such as using a raised or harsh tone of voice. Instead, think in simple terms about your dog’s skill level (i.e. their level of training) and their most likely motivation such as wanting access to food, toys or play or wanting to avoid an unpleasant situation. Then go back to school with your dog2, repeat the exercises, practise under distractions and provide outstanding motivation in form of tasty food or other high value rewards. Raising your voice or using a more “serious” tone cannot replace training. It only risks that your voice tips over from being a communication tool to becoming a punisher.

A good training exercise for testing or practising how much control you have over your own voice is “leave it”. Ideally you start this exercise with food in your hand rather than on the floor but let’s just skip ahead to the part where you are likely to be more challenged. When you place food on the floor, you have to be ready to quickly cover it or snatch it away if the dog dives for it. If the dog is faster than you and “wins” (gets to the food before you have given the OK), your training will suffer a serious setback. Your dog will learn that she can beat you at this game.

Here is the scenario:

  • You place the food on the floor between you and your dog and give the “leave it” cue.
  • You are in a state of alert because you need to move quickly if your dog flinches.
  • Your dog flinches.
  • “LEAVE IT!!”

Oops. Your verbal outburst has most likely stopped your dog dead in her tracks. But it wasn’t the cue (“leave it”) that stopped her. It was your tone. You could have yelled anything and she would have stopped all the same. The plan was to quickly cover the food with your hand if your dog moved but your voice was faster. Your emotional response has ruined your training plan2.

While this is not necessarily a traumatic event for your dog or a roadblock to your training success (although it can be), it shows how easily we can trip up. Trying to control your dog with verbal or physical force – no matter how subtle that may be – is an emotional response, either driven by the current context or by the relationship you have with your dog. Teaching your dog skills with knowledge, patience and practise on the other hand is a strategy based on rational decisions. One that will pay off and give you the control you want without causing distress for you or your dog.

 

RESOURCES

1 Yelling Doesn’t Help, May Harm Adolescents, Pitt-Led Study Finds, University of Pittsburgh

2 To teach your dog reliable skills, get yourself a good book, join a good dog training school or hire a qualified professional. If you train your dog with a plan, your chances of success are greatly increased.
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APDT Trainers Directory

The story of a backyard dog

Strictly speaking, the dog in this story didn’t live in a backyard. He lived in the dark and narrow space between an old weatherboard house and the neighbour’s fence. He went to sleep in his kennel at one end of the run and to the toilet at the other. There was no grass and nothing to look at but the sky.

When I first saw this dog, he was looking at me through the window. I was about to rent a small room in an old weatherboard house and my landlady immediately assured me the dog “wouldn’t be any trouble”. Two of the other students who lived there were scared of the dog and the third didn’t care. The dog was never taken out and it seemed his only social contact was feeding time when someone would toss a bowl of food into his prison. Maybe he had been part of the family once but when life changed for his people he was no longer included. Maybe he lost a large and grassy backyard when his family built their new double-storey home behind the weatherboard house. Maybe he was banished from family activities when the first baby arrived. Plans to re-home him were soon forgotten and he became invisible. Stashed away behind the weatherboard instead of his family’s new house, he was out of sight, largely unnoticed by the students who lived there over the years. Without his occasional deep and husky bark it would have been easy to forget he even existed.

It was obvious that my landlady had no attachment to the dog. To her he was a deterrent for would-be burglars, nothing more. My landlord however seemed to have some feelings for the dog and maybe even a tad of guilt. I really wanted to believe that the man once loved and cared for his dog. It simply made me feel better to imagine the dog had seen better days, but staying on friendly terms with my landlord also made it easier for me to help the dog. My request to take him for walks was accepted without hesitation and so began his new life.

It didn’t start well. In my naive urge to set this dog free, I forgot to consider what years in solitary confinement can do to an individual. I put him on a lead, walked him a kilometre or so down the road to a creek which ran through large expanses of green grass and lush vegetation and let him off. Before I could blink the dog was running back to the road and heading for home, or so I hoped. I chased after him up a hill and towards a busy intersection where I prepared myself for the worst. When I finally arrived at the house, my heart was pounding from the exercise and the worry that he might never have made it home. To top it off – when I did discover him back in his kennel – I made a rookie mistake by getting angry with him. I was angry that he gave me such a fright. I was angry that he apparently didn’t appreciate my help. I was angry that he spoiled my feel good story. Today I’m angry with myself for having been so selfish and ignorant.

It was fortunate the dog didn’t suffer from serious anxiety as I could have easily made matters worse. Although I knew that anxiety and depression were real illnesses, I still had a hard time to accept that both could not be overcome with sheer willpower. Probably even more so through personal experience in my family, I saw it as a weakness if someone could not control their negative thoughts and emotions. And as if it wasn’t bad enough to expect humans with anxiety disorders to “face their fears” or “get over it”, I thought dogs – animals who aren’t even capable of analysing their fear and anxiety – should handle their problems the same way! This attitude is still very common these days and, sadly, it often leads to increased anxiety levels and a lower quality of life for our companion dogs.

As it turned out, the dog I was trying to help with my less-than-perfect approach had no deep-seated emotional issues and very quickly started to enjoy his newfound freedom. Over the following months we became best friends. Every day when I returned home and entered my room, he was waiting for me at the window. We went for daily walks together and sometimes hung out on the property when no one else was around. As often as possible I took him to the creek where we ran around together and sat in the grass. At night we would chat through the window before bedtime. Then I had to go away.

My first departure was only temporary but leaving the dog alone for three weeks, to fall back into isolation and despair, was unthinkable. If I ever had any ill feelings towards my landlord for neglecting his dog, it didn’t matter anymore after what happened next. My suggestion to board the dog with friends of mine during my absence was only the beginning. My landlord not only agreed but was also open for me to find a permanent home for his dog. Not long after my return I moved out of the shared house. The dog went to live with my friends before we found him a forever home where he became a member of a loving family, had another dog to play with and quickly claimed a comfy beanbag as his favourite place to sleep. I missed him but I knew he was happy. And that was all that mattered.

From the day I met this dog I knew I needed to find a solution. I could not leave him there to spend the rest of his life in a prison with nothing to do and no one for company. Yet so many dogs live exactly like that. Here, amidst us, scattered around the neighbourhoods are neglected, lonely dogs sitting in barren backyards, waiting for something to happen. Some of them have already entered a state of hopelessness and depression. They are “institutionalised”. But, as you can see from this story, it is never too late to help a dog in need and give them their life back. And no matter how long they have been neglected, they don’t even hold a grudge. I sometimes wonder if we deserve them at all.

A dog’s life – what’s it worth?

Every so often I hear complaints about the amount of money people spend on their dogs or other companion animals. There seems to be a moral objection to the idea that animals receive so much of our disposable income and a suggestion that the money should go towards “worthier” targets, for example less fortunate humans who suffer from poverty, disease and other hardships in this world. But is this a valid argument?

What we spend money on

There is no better tool to address emotional arguments than statistics*, so let’s start there. The numbers tell us that Australians spend around $20 billion a year on beauty products and personal care, another $20 billion on recreation and around $10 billion on gadgets. We certainly value alcohol and gambling (between $15 and $20 billion a year each) and our spending on coffee and sweets easily exceeds donations to charity. Australian households also waste a lot. A possible $8 billion of food is thrown away per annum, not counting the wastage from restaurants and other businesses. In comparison we spend approximately $5 billion a year on pets. This includes everything – food and health care, pet products and accessories, services such as grooming, boarding and training – and all pets – from dogs and cats to fish and reptiles.

It feels wrong to compare expenditure on luxury items and entertainment to the money we spend on our animal companions. But since pets are legally nothing more than property, they get bundled together with hair straighteners, golf clubs and flat screen TVs. Even then, it would make more sense to criticise our exorbitant spending on non-essential beauty and lifestyle products before we bemoan the cost of animal care or even pet pampering, whatever that may mean.

But there is something else wrong with criticizing spending money on our animal companions. It implies that those people who do not have pets or spend less money on them are more charitable than others. Clearly this is not the case. If someone puts their house up for sale to pay for their dog’s medical bills, it is highly doubtful they would have done the same to give money to charity. People spend their money whichever way they like. No matter if someone collects vintage cars, enjoys going to restaurants or loves their dog, we simply cannot draw any conclusions about how much or how little they give to charity.

Life has no price tag

It is an impossible task to estimate the value of life. We can assume that a life is most important to the individual who lives it, but it also matters to others. How much it matters is fluent. It is evident that even human life is not valued evenly across the globe and throughout history. In war-torn and poverty stricken countries a life can end quickly and without fanfare. Sometimes one life is less important than family or community and sometimes a life is sacrificed for a greater cause or goal. And while “developed” countries may rate individual life very highly, we are also willing to send young men and women into war if we deem necessary. Life has no objective value. It simply cannot be measured in monetary or even ethical terms. The value of a single life is a subjective experience and can only be qualified by the individual themselves and everyone around them.

As a society we tend to value human life above all other. This does not mean that every human being values every single human life over that of every other animal. Just ask yourself: Would you save your dog’s life over that of a sadistic psychopathic serial killer, if you ever found yourself in the unfortunate position to have to make that decision? Would you run into a burning house to save your dog, risking your own life? Neither worldly laws nor spiritual beliefs can answer these questions for us.

More than just a dog

The recent story of a young man who committed suicide after authorities killed his dog shows just how much non-human animals can mean to us. The psychological and emotional benefits of pets have been sufficiently proven but we also need to acknowledge that humans can genuinely form close bonds with members of other species. There doesn’t have to be a measurable benefit to us in order to justify spending money on our pets. It’s ok if it simply makes us happy.

Not everyone may understand the emotional attachment that is possible between species. A few years ago Dusty, a young kelpie from Queensland, tested positive for Hendra virus antibodies and was euthanized for bio-security reasons. While his distressed family pleaded for their beloved dog’s life, a nearby farmer – apparently wanting to help – offered to “replace” the kelpie. This type of thinking puts dogs on the same level as a tractor. The dog is a replaceable utility, not a unique individual whose family have come to know and love him. But every animal – dog, human or other – is unique and so are the relationships they form with others.

People who get emotionally attached and spend significant money on their dogs are sometimes accused of treating them like children. The only thing wrong with that is when the animals suffer from being anthropomorphised and subjected to unrealistic expectations by their humans. Otherwise, the kindness of people should be applauded, especially if we consider that around 250,000 abandoned, neglected and abused dogs and cats are killed each year in Australian animal shelters. Empathy does not stop at species boundaries, meaning that people who are kind to animals are also likely to be kind to humans. We can never have enough of those people!

 

Like everyone else I have my private thoughts about what type of expenses I find reasonable (not just in relation to pets) and which I classify as extravagant. But it is not for me to decide what other people should spend their money on. As a dog trainer I want to see happy, healthy dogs, so my focus is on training and behaviour as well as health care and good nutrition. Any expenses in these categories are important to not just keep the animal alive but to give them a life worth living.
However, if someone wants to express their love for their dog with a diamond studded collar, it’s entirely their business. This is no different to buying jewellery for a human loved one (except that the dog couldn’t care less of course!). Nobody really needs these items but it clearly means something to people. Before I pass – my purely personal – judgement on anyone, I try and remind myself that the big spender might also be a big philanthropist.

 

 

 

* The numbers are neither exact nor current but are meant as ballpark figures only.

RESOURCES

Australian spending habits, ASIC, MoneySmart
We’re getting more charitable, but the gambling bug still bites, Nortons, Business Advisers & Chartered Accountants
Australians are world-leading gamblers, but the house’s winnings are slipping, Business Spectator
Do Australians waste $8 billion worth of edible food each year?, ABC Fact Check
He Had The Wrong Dog In The Wrong Country And When They Killed It He Killed Himself, 3MillionDogs
Empathy and Compassion: The Awesome Sauce, Jason Powers in Huffington Post
Dusty the red kelpie – Hendra Virus, Barristers Animal Welfare Panel