Dog Walker Tales

The Salty Paws and Milk-bone Adventure:

Despite the falling snow and salty sidewalks, Oona the black lab was on cloud nine this past week. She bumped into a few of her old friends at the park, Charlie the chocolate lab and Roscoe the bulldog. The trio took turns gripping onto a rope toy for a snarling game of tug-o-war, jumped, ran and frolicked among the snowflakes, and played fetch with a bouncy ball that was weighted down by a sheath of ice.

Amidst all the action, typical dog walker banter broke out.

“I’m surprised Roscoe’s running around so much,” said Roscoe’s walker. “He barely made it here. Begged me to pick him up. He keeps shaking his paws and refuses to walk along the pavement. I guess it’s just too cold for his little feet.”

“It’s the rock salt,” said Charlie’s dad. “That stuff is killer for dogs. It gets trapped up in between their pads, stuck in the hair and begins to irritate them like hell until they gnaw at their paws enough to get the stuff out.”

“Really?” I inquired. “I heard on the news that the problem with salty paws is the danger of the salt being ingested. Like, when they get home, dogs lick their paws to get rid of the salt, but because it is rock salt it can cause a lot of harm internally.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Actually, I think you’re both right,” said Roscoe’s owner. “I also heard something about antifreeze. That we should prevent our dogs from licking the snow in case antifreeze has seeped in. Once that stuff is ingested, they’re really in trouble.”

“Yeah,” both Charlie’s dad and I said in unison.

By then each dog had performed their outdoor duties, Roscoe began to lift each paw intermittently and, having exchanged our knowledge on rock salt, we all decided to part ways.

On the way back to Oona’s place, we ran into James the mailman—a professional who prides himself on delivering mail in the snow, sleet and rain. Oona was attracted to him like a fly on flypaper. At first I explained that she loved people and probably just wanted to say "hi" in her own way. James was happy to give a little love back. Then he reached into the side pocket on his mailbag, rustled around some and pulled out a decent-sized Milk-bone.

“We mailmen come prepared,” he said tipping his head and raising his eyebrows as he reached down to hand Oona the biscuit. “Say. Is this the dog from right around the corner?

“Yes. This is Oona.”

“Good dog! Good dog!” he said as he patted her on the head before pushing onward with his mailbag on wheels.

As we turned to go, Oona raised her head, with Milk-bone in mouth, and began to prance around the corner. It was then that I realized Oona knew exactly who the mailman was and what he had to offer. She was no fool.

When we returned to her apartment, I wiped her paws clean with warm water, left a note for her parents—who were already well aware of rock salt’s adverse effects—said goodbye to Oona and went on my way.

Later I learned that mailmen are encouraged to “bear gifts” for dogs they inevitably encounter on their routes. The tactic is called counterconditioning. To learn more about that and why many dogs bark and snarl at mailmen (and other uniformed visitors), visit this Pet Place.

For more information on the detriments of rock salt, antifreeze and other de-icing chemicals, visit Chilly Dogs.

Photo by author.