A few considerations on a recent report regarding a preferred orientation for a dog’s body along magnetic field lines during the process of elimination

(Note: Part of this post was published earlier today. Due to some problems, apparently mainly my ignorance of WordPress, it was incomplete at that time.)

I’m a keen observer of dog behavior, so I was naturally interested when the news media reported that dogs like to face north or south when they poop. The reports are based on a Czech-German study of the body orientation of dogs during defecation. The study finds that dogs prefer to align their bodies in the north-south direction when pooping. I’ve learned not to rely on the general news media for any real understanding of science, or anything else, so I decided to find the original study. It appears that the reports in the media are a reasonably accurate statement of the study’s findings. For a change. As far as they go.

The actual title is “Dogs are sensitive to small variations of the Earth’s magnetic field.”

To summarize: the researchers used a group of volunteer dog owners to record their dogs’ orientation during various activities, and finally concentrated on the process of defecation. They found that during periods when the Earth’s magnetic field is stable (not changing in direction or intensity), the dogs preferentially aligned themselves in a north-south direction. They did not do so during periods when the magnetic field was changing.

I didn’t do a deep analysis of the study, so I can’t judge the validity of the statistical results (assuming it’s not a complete hoax). It sounds a little flaky to me, especially since it relied on observations by ordinary dog owners, and also included no Doberman pinschers. I noted a fairly large number of small dogs, who can be notoriously contrary. Dachshunds in particular seem to be overrepresented. If the small dogs were even slightly suspicious about the nature of the study*, they would almost certainly have attempted to sabotage the results, just for the heck of it. Because that’s the way they roll.

Volunteer dog owners actually performed the observations. That’s not necessarily a fatal flaw, but it is a weakness. I assume the dog owners were told what to do, but not exactly why they were doing it. They presumably could have been familiar with the researchers’ previous, related work**, but whether that could have or did influence their observations is uncertain.

My own observations of dogs pooping are extensive. I don’t go out of my way to see it, but when you’re walking a dog and hoping that he will just please god get it over with it’s starting to rain harder, you really can’t help but notice. I have a lot of experience noticing it, going back at least to 1979, when I adopted Jesse, continuing through four other dogs and ending with our current two, Zeke and Lucy.

Based on my observations, small dogs, especially miniature pinschers, do not give a crap where they crap, or what direction they’re aimed when they do it. We have had Lucy for almost a year, and throughout that time I have taken her and Zeke on the same path around the house multiple times every day. I think a reasonable estimate of the number of trips is between 800 and 1000. By now I am pretty sure she knows the path, and could run it backwards blindfolded if food were involved. And yet when she feels the need to poop, which is surprisingly often, she stops wherever she happens to be and does it. Right in the path, where we will walk again within a few hours. It does not occur to her that if she went a few feet to the side of the path we would not have to treat the path like a minefield. Or maybe it does occur to her. Dogs have a different sense of humor from humans, and more different from female humans in particular.

I am pretty sure there is no preferred orientation of her body when the urge is acted on. The direction appears to be random. However, I will try to be more observant from now on. My iphone has a compass app, so I can check fairly easily, if I can remember to take it with me on walks around the house.

My observations of Zeke, on the other hand, indicate that there is a strong directional preference, but it does not involve the Earth’s magnetic field. If Zeke happens to feel the need to poop when we’re walking around the house, he goes into the woods, searches a while for precisely the best location, and unloads there. I don’t think he has shown a preferred compass heading for this process. If, on the other hand, he waits for our long walks down and back up the mountain, he does show a very strongly preferred orientation, but it is a matter of geographical gradient rather than the Earth’s magnetic field.

We live on a mountain, so for essentially our entire walk there is an uphill slope on one side of the road, and in places it’s quite steep. I know Zeke is looking for a rest stop when he climbs up and starts walking along the slope. When he’s ready, he turns to face downhill, with his rear end aimed up. And then he poops. He apparently is unfamiliar with the old saying about what direction poop rolls on a hill.

I don’t have a good explanation for Zeke’s behavior, but it is essentially 100 percent repeatable. I just figure he missed the heavenly doggy class on which way to poop on a mountain.

* It is not unlikely, in my opinion, that the researchers’ previous work in animal sensitivity to the Earth’s magnetic field would be know. Although, come to think of it, I doubt that many small dogs regularly read scientific journals, even if they are publically available online.

** It is far more likely that the dog owners could have read the researchers’ previous work, if for no other reason than that they are more likely than dogs to own computers.

Possum and persimmon update

I don’t think I have to make the case that possums like persimmons. That seems to be pretty much common knowledge, even way up in Chicago:

“Moonlight hunts, hound dogs, and possums grown fat on persimmons and roasted with sweet potatoes, are justly celebrated in songs and stories about country life down south.”

At least that’s the way this Web site puts it.

We don’t do hunts by moonlight or otherwise, and we don’t eat possums with sweet potatoes or without. We do have a dog with at least some hound in him, and we do live in the country down south. And the possums are eating persimmons.

In fact, a possum has nearly stripped the persimmon tree I mentioned in an earlier post. I counted four persimmons left on the tree today. A couple of days ago a lot of the fruit was gone, but there were still quite a few out on the long, thin branches. When I saw the possum in the tree a few days ago I wondered what it would do about them. Now I think I know.

I mentioned in another earlier post about finding small branches lying on the ground under the tree with ends neatly chewed into small cone shapes. I think the possum has been chewing the branches off, letting them fall to the ground, and then climbing down and eating the persimmons. It doesn’t seem to find all of them, though. For the last few days Zeke, the part hound dog, has been sniffing out the persimmons the possum misses and eating them.

I haven’t actually seen the possum eating persimmons in the tree, chewing branches off the tree, or eating persimmons off the ground, but I’m pretty sure the case has been made.

Impatient Opossums

As I mentioned earlier, Nature decorated the Chrispersimmon trees at the front corner of our property. The decorations go on early, and we usually just leave them up until Nature takes it course.

Zeke has been extraordinarily interested in the two little trees for several days. Every time we go out for a little walk around the house, he sniffs excitedly around the base and sometimes stands up to reach as far into the tree as he can. I shine the flashlight up into the tree, but I can’t see anything different.

Christmas night I found out what was going on.

The decorated Chrispersimmon Tree, Christmas night

The decorated Chrispersimmon Tree, Christmas night.

The possum decided to take down the Christmas decorations. He’s way up there.

Is he grinning?

Is he grinning?

Possums are just unsentimental, and impatient to boot.

‘Twas the night before Christmas

and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a …

Hey, Zeke, come on, you know Santa will never come if you stay up looking for him.

Zeke, get away from the door

Go on, Zeke, go to bed and go to sleep.

zeke in bedGood dog. Hey, Chloe and Zoe, you heard what I told Zeke!

chloe and zoe at the doorEveryone go to bed, right now!

That’s right, Lucy, good dog.

lucy in bedYou, too, Sylvester, good kitty.

sly kind of asleep

Come on, now, Smokey, you  aren’t fooling anyone.

smokey faking itLook, even Zoe is asleep.

zoe asleepOK, I think everyone is in bed.

And soon, we’ll be visited by that right jolly old elf …

st dogolas

St. Dogolas!

And so, from Leah, Mark, Zeke, Zoe, Chloe, Sylvester

happy christmas

and to all a good night!

Screech Owls

We have two or three kinds of owls on the mountain. I have heard the barred owl and the screech owl, and possibly the great horned owl. Until recently we have seen only one of the larger owls, and then only a fleeting glimpse as it flew across the road and it was illuminated by our headlights*. And then over the last couple of weeks I have seen screech owls three times. Unfortunately, on two of those occasions they were dead.

Here is one I found lying along Fouche Gap Road last Tuesday, Dec. 17. I am not positive of the identification, but based on what I have read, it’s the only native Georgia owl that’s as small as this one was. Both were lying on their backs and I didn’t turn them over to get a better look. The size of this one was consistent with the eight inches given by several sites, although it might have been slightly smaller than that.

Dead owl, Fouche Gap Road

Dead owl, Fouche Gap Road

I made the shot with my iPhone. It’s overexposed, and all the detail in the lighter areas was completely blown out.

The first one I saw was also lying along Fouche Gap Road on the opposite side of the mountain. Their bodies were apparently scavenged quite quickly, so I assume both of them had been hit by cars the previous night.

It bothers me to see any animal that has been hit by a car, but these exquisite little owls were really sad.

The third screech owl was alive. I saw it some time between the two dead owls. I was taking the dogs on their last walk of the night. We were crossing the leach field that’s on the downhill side of the house. It’s surrounded by woods. Zeke had stopped and was watching something intently. It was so dark that all I could see was a vague outline that appeared to have some lighter spots. I assumed that it was Chloe, although I have never seen her in that location. When I turned on my flashlight I realized it was a bird.

Zeke was staring at it from about six feet away. The owl was staring back. I was afraid Zeke was going to charge it, so I pulled him back. At that point the bird flew away into the woods.

It was an odd confrontation. I wonder why the owl didn’t fly immediately. Maybe it had caught some small animal and didn’t want to leave it.

* Which reminds me of another time I saw an owl. It was in 1977. I was living at Lake Tahoe, and Leah’s brother Dan rode his motorcycle out to visit. We took our bikes on a long loop up to Washington and across to North Dakota. We had ridden into the night and pulled over some place in North Dakota to check a map or something. When we pulled back out onto the two-lane highway we were on, a huge white owl appeared just ahead and above my motorcycle, just at the edge of the headlight beam. It accelerated with me for a while and then eventually flew away. It was one of the eeriest and coolest things I have ever seen on the road.