Tips & Tails, part two
Tips for hiking and backpacking with dogs
Leave No Trace (canine edition)
This is part two of the Tips & Tails series, a collection of stories and lessons learned from my own personal experiences hiking and backpacking with dogs over the years. Part one dealt with some of the pros and cons of sharing the trail with a four-legged friend, and especially of hiking leashed. In part two, I'll talk about LNT (Leave No Trace) principles as they apply to hiking with a dog, as well as some canine first aid and emergency planning tips. The thing to remember regarding LNT is that nobody is perfect, but information leads to a better understanding of how our presence in wild places can impact an ecosystem and what we can do to reduce that impact. I think that's a worthwhile endeavor.
Dogs and Cat Holes
In most backpacking scenarios, I bury Mani's excrement in a cat hole just as I do my own. Usually she'll get wildly excited when she has to go potty and that warning gives me plenty of time to take her off-trail and find a suitable spot (at least 200 feet from the trail and any water sources; to give you a rough idea how far 200 feet is, a U.S. football field is 160 feet wide, and you can calculate your pace as well). I'll be straight up honest with you, sometimes we don't make it a full 200 feet away from the trail, but we get close. I'll dig a cat hole (6-8" deep) next to the poo pile and then take a stick and push the poo off into the bottom of the hole, fill the hole with the dug-out dirt, put rocks and/or sticks on top, and carry on. But sometimes... sometimes we'll be hiking along and I'll feel a sudden tug on the leash behind me, I'll turn around, and she's already locked in place, dropping her doody right there in the middle of the trail. On the rare occasion that this happens, I dig a cat hole (6-8" deep) in an appropriate place off-trail, use a stick to scoop the poo onto a flat rock (sometimes there aren't any good rocks available and you gotta make due with what you can find), and very very carefully transport the steaming poo platter to the cat hole, bury it, and cover it with additional nearby rocks and sticks. I only use loose rocks in this process, so if a rock is partially buried in the ground, I won't dig it out. Generally speaking, I try to be as minimally invasive to the place as I know how to be. If you have poop bags with you, or another type of empty, disposable bag, you can transport the poo to the cat hole that way, and then pack out the empty, dirty bag. On shorter hikes, or those that are closer to urban areas that have accessible garbage dumpsters, I will just use poop bags as I do on a walk around the neighborhood at home, and discard them in the dumpster on the way out. This all may seem like a lot of work, but the extra effort to do what is ethical is worth it, to me. And, in my mind, it's just part of the responsibility of bringing my dog along with me on these backpacking trips.
Domestic vs Wild Poop
A lot of people think that since wild animals freely poop in the wilderness, it's fine for dogs (and even humans) to do so as well. The thing is, wildlife also eat native to the woods, so their scat consists of things that were already in the ecosystem to begin with. Ecosystems rely on nutrient cycling, meaning the health of the system relies on the constant recycling of matter back into matter. Domesticated animals (including people) don't eat native to the ecosystem in which we're backpacking, so the matter we leave behind (especially when it's en masse) can create conflict in the natural cycle, ultimately harming a healthy system by introducing new or excess nutrients that can throw off the natural balance, introduce invasive species and kill native species. I'm simplifying it here, but hopefully this helps someone understand the general concept. Again, nobody's perfect, but information is key to understanding what role we play in the bigger picture, and committing to learn and at least try to reduce our own impact is a significant step toward creating a more mutually beneficial relationship between our now heavily domesticated culture and the wild spaces we desire to preserve for future generations.
Food Storage and Cleanup
I bought a bear canister for a backpacking trip I did years ago in an area that required them, and since then I've used it on every trip I've made, even if not required. If there aren't bears to worry about, the rodents can be just as persistent or worse. I've found that a bear canister can act as a cooler, as well as a camp chair, and I've used it as both many many times. On backpacking trips with Mani, I pack my own food and smelly items in a bear can and then put Mani's food and treats in a large Opsak odor-proof ziplock bag. I then put the Opsak into a stuff sack, roll the top and clip it. At night, I'll put the bear can and stuff sack, along with my dishes and Mani's dishes (the collapsible bowls easily fit in the Opsak with her food), in between two trees or rocks. The recommended distance to store bear canisters away from camp is 100 yards. In areas where bears aren't usually a problem, I don't generally place them quite so far away, but I never sleep with my food and cookware inside the tent or in the vestibule, whether it's in a bear canister or not.
Regarding cleanup, I won't wash dishes directly in a creek. I use filtered water from my bottles and clean them away from water sources and away from camp. I don't use soap. I'll boil water on my stove and use my finger to scrub when necessary. Same goes for Mani's food bowl. On long backpacking trips I don't bring foods on the trail that actually require much cleanup. Mani's dehydrated food is the messiest thing I bring, and 99% of the time, she licks the bowl clean. No mess. If, however, there is some food left, I usually put it in my dedicated 'trash' bag and carry it out. When backpacking, food prep and cleaning up are both important things to consider when packing. Bringing more food than you will actually eat is fine, but packing it in individual servings for each meal helps to eliminate food waste. Same for dogs. If I'm unsure that I or Mani will eat an entire meal, I will only fix small portions of it at a time to avoid waste.
Canine First Aid
Backpacking edition.
I've been fortunate, so far, that in all of my time spent in the backcountry with my dogs over the years, I've never had to deal with a serious canine injury or illness. I've had a few close calls, and I'm grateful they did not develop into worst-case-scenarios, but just because I've been lucky doesn't mean that I should be lax about preparedness. Especially because my dog is a large dog (60+ pounds) and carrying her out of a wilderness area would be challenging, I need to be aware of the things that could potentially go wrong and how I would address those things quickly and effectively. Below I'll talk about some of the canine first aid situations I've dealt with on trail and some of the precautions I take for potential scenarios. There is a lot of information online about this, and I'm not going to discuss anything here that I haven't used, tried, or that I don't actively train to use/try on my own dog.
Paws
When I had Bella, we went hiking in the Sangre de Cristo mountains in New Mexico a few times. On one of our ascents of Wheeler Peak, Bella decided that she'd had enough of the loose scree. When a dog decides she's not going to continue, no amount of excited prompting is going to convince her to do otherwise. I picked her up--all 60 pounds of her--and carried her in my arms (with my backpack still on my back) across two fairly long sections of loose scree, on the ascent and again on the descent. It was very slow-going and required careful stepping on my part, to avoid losing my footing and crashing down onto the rocks. On a future ascent of the same mountain, I tried dog booties. Not even halfway into the hike she became very sluggish. I stopped, took the booties off her paws, gave her water, and let her rest. Within just a few minutes she was back to her normal self. My theory is that the booties prevented her from being able to adequately cool down (dogs regulate their body temperature through the pads of their paws, and by panting). This is yet another reason I stress the "know your dog" mantra. In order to know if something is abnormal, you've got to know what normal behavior is for your dog, and you've simply got to be paying attention. I have not used dog booties on my dogs since that trip. Instead, I use Musher's Secret paw wax. It seems to do the trick, for hiking in snow as well as on rough terrain, loose scree, and hot surfaces. But you have to take the time to apply it, and regularly check paws to make sure they aren't getting cut or blistered. Dogs don't always show their discomfort, which is why being observant and recognizing the very slightest changes in their behavior is so important, and why regular physical checks are also necessary. I know many people who use dog booties with great success, so I'm not sure if the scenario with Bella in the Sangre de Cristos was just a random thing or not, but given that the Musher's wax works, and is a much more breathable option, I feel good about my decision to avoid the booties and let her maintain better control over her body temperature regulation, as well as her physical contact with the ground.
Superficial Wounds
While many people use Neosporin for superficial wounds, both on themselves and their dogs, there does seem to be a bit of controversy surrounding whether or not it is completely safe for dogs. I pack an all-natural salve that Green Goo makes as a substitute. It has calendula in it, which is known for its antimicrobial properties. I've seen it work wonders on superficial wounds for Mani (the straps on a dog pack once badly rubbed her skin raw under her arms and I used this salve with amazing results--the raw spots were all significantly smaller and less inflamed the next day--of course, I also ended up clipping the dog pack to my own with a carabiner so she didn't carry it the rest of that trip, or since, as her hair is just too short to adequately protect against the constant friction). The ingredients in the Green Goo animal salve are exactly the same as those found in their human First Aid salve, so I actually use it on myself as well. The more first aid items in my pack that can be shared between us both, the better. Also, Mani has licked the Green Goo salve before without getting sick or having diarrhea.
Pain and Inflammation
Mani has arthritis in one of her knees. So far it has been very manageable. She takes one Actistatin glucosamine chew daily (at home as well as on the trail) and that has made an enormous difference. In fact, when she was first diagnosed she was prescribed two chews daily, and we've gone to just one because she completely stopped favoring that knee shortly after beginning the glucosamine regimen. In addition to the glucosamine chews, I pack Arnica pellets as a natural pain management option. There is a lot of information online about dosage of Arnica for canines (please research ALL of what I say here before trying it yourself), but our vet recommended the 30c dosage, 3-5 pellets at a time depending on the level of pain. We've so far, fortunately, never had to use it. And, in the "better safe than sorry" category, I also put a few Carprofen in our kit, prescribed by our vet but rarely needed.
Bee Stings, Bug Bites, Allergies, Hives
I pack Benadryl tablets for both myself and Mani. Our vet has said that Mani (60 pounds) can take up to two Benedryl at a time for things like bug bites, bee stings, allergies, hives, etc., and there is info online about dosage for smaller dogs. Mosquitos can sometimes be a very real issue for dogs on any outdoor adventure (be sure to keep your dog's heart worm treatments up to date as well, as a mosquito's bite is how heart worm larvae are transmitted to dogs). On The Colorado Trail, and other high-elevation trails, the temperature is usually cool enough that when we're not moving I can put Mani's coat on her to keep the mosquitos and other bugs from biting her. I have also tied an ExOfficio BugsAway bandana around her neck to keep the mosquitos away from her, with somewhat questionable results. And I've tried a variety of all-natural bug sprays, most of which I felt did nothing. However, I do think that the lemon eucalyptus Repel was at least somewhat effective, for a short time, on both Mani and myself, so if I think the mosquitos are going to be particularly bad on a backpacking trip, I'll bring a small bottle of that along.
Weather / Temperature
Mani is a short-haired West Texas dog who will lay for hours in the sun in triple-digit temps when we're at home and then act like she's absolutely freezing when we're in the mountains. It's necessary for me to pack a canine winter coat for her on most of our backpacking trips. During middays on the trail in summer, she doesn't need to wear it (unless it's raining), and I just clip it to the back of my pack. However, we often begin hiking at dawn, when it can be quite cold even in summer months, and she needs that warmth again when we stop moving and are sitting in camp in the evenings. The coat doubles as a blanket for her overnight in the tent, though sometimes she'll simply end up under my quilt with me. Her winter coat is also water resistant, which prevents her from getting soaked during an afternoon rain storm. The last thing I want is a cold and wet dog when the sun goes down and the temp drops. In extra cold temps (winter trips), the coat also has an attached "snood" that pulls up around her neck and over her ears. She hates this and often will try to shake or paw it off, but she hates cold wind blowing in her ears even more. Once, as we were hiking across a mountain pass, the wind was blowing hard and cold, so I pulled her snood up over her ears and she didn't argue about it one bit.
On the flip side, a dog can very quickly overheat and be at risk for heat stroke, just like humans. It's important to pay attention to signs like bright pink/red skin, ears, and gums, dry nose, rapid heart rate (know what is normal heart rate for your dog; check by putting your hand over the inside top of the hind leg), lack of urinating, sudden breathing distress/excessive panting, changes in mental status, vomiting, and collapse, among others. If a dog begins to show any of these symptoms, give them cool water to drink (but don't force them to drink) and pour cool water over them (or use a soaked towel and pat them down with it), specifically on the back and neck and under the arms. Keep in mind that Brachycephalic dogs--breeds that have short, or smooshed noses--are going to succumb to heatstroke much more easily than other dogs. Bella--a purebred Boxer--was Brachycephalic, and I had to be very very careful where and when I hiked with her because of her tendency to overheat quickly. Basically, we could not hike in West Texas in the summer at all. Fortunately, while part Boxer, Mani inherited the longer Pitbull nose as well as a strong West Texas proclivity for warm temperatures and sunshine. She is a very different dog. This is why I stress, again, know your dog.
Food and Water
In any situation--summer or winter--water is crucial. For the most part, Mani drinks out of fast-flowing creeks, but if there are none, and/or when we're in camp, then we share the water I've filtered. Mani will actually ask me for a drink when she's thirsty by running over to me when I pull out the water bottle to take a drink. In fact, she will run over to anyone in our group who pulls out their water bottle, if she's thirsty. She's gone backpacking with me enough that she knows what a bladder hose is. Take it in your hand and put it to your mouth, and if she's thirsty she'll come running over expecting you to squirt some in her mouth as well. Generally speaking, Mani gets a drink when I drink. And every time we cross a fast-flowing creek, I tell her, "Thirsty! Get a drink!" and she usually does if she hasn't already on her own. To avoid or address possible dehydration in either of us, I pack Pedialyte (fine for dogs in measured quantities). There is also an electrolyte mix made specifically for dogs called Bullyade. Although I've never tried it with any of my dogs yet, I may just add it to my packing list.
I use Dexas collapsible bowls for Mani's water and food. The Dexas brand hold their shape a little better than other silicone collapsible bowls. They have a hard edging around the top circumference and are generally stiffer, which is good for Mani because she has a tendency to lick the bowl hard when eating her rehydrated food, and other brands kept collapsing on her while she licked it. The Dexas bowls stay open while she's eating and are wide enough for her large snout. Sometimes I will pack one of my titanium pots for her to eat from, just because the rehydrated food can get stuck in the creases of the collapsible bowls and it's not quite as easy to clean on the trail; whereas, the smooth wall of the titanium pot is super easy to clean and, in fact, usually ends up being licked clean by the time she's done with it.
With Mani, I pretty much double the amount of food she eats at home when we pack for the trail. Just like me, she uses more energy on the trail and requires more fuel. And, just like me, sometimes she will actually lose her appetite, so it's important to pack food that she loves to encourage her to eat well. Mani loves peanut butter and tuna, so in addition to her Honest Kitchen dehydrated food, I'll pack those things as snacks, along with some freeze dried bison and chicken. When I take a 'packs-off' break to eat a snack, she gets a snack too. When I stop to eat dinner, she eats dinner too. Eating together and at roughly the same time everyday encourages healthy eating habits while on multiple-day backpacking trips and helps to provide some familiarity with routine.
Closing Thoughts
This is by no means a comprehensive discussion of canine first aid and preparedness, but it's certainly enough to make a difference between life and death, and maybe to inspire more research (I've already been inspired to research some things more). Years ago when I had Bella, she was choking on a piece of food at home and I did the Heimlich maneuver on her. I had no idea what else to do for a choking dog other than what I'd learned to do for a choking human. It worked. The piece of food shot out and across the room. Later I looked up the proper technique for assisting a choking dog and discovered that what I did was pretty dang close to accurate. So, it's not a bad idea to know how to perform the Heimlich on a dog, to generally know canine anatomy, how to do "mouth-to-snout" resuscitation and compressions, how and when to make a tourniquet, how to splint a broken bone, and also to know how you're going to carry them out of the wilderness if they can no longer walk on their own. I don't use trekking poles when I hike, but I bring them anyway (collapsed down and stored in my side pack pockets) simply because of the multiple emergency situations in which they could really come in handy (in combination with other items such as 550 cord and a tarp): making a splint, a gurney, a shelter, and more. I also pack things you might see in a first aid kit at the store, and they are certainly usable with canines: gauze, medical tape, tweezers, a bulb syringe (for irrigation)... the basics.
In the end, most of us aren't veterinarians. But much of what we learn in basic human first aid can help us in better assisting our canine friends as well. And if you need to use the SOS button on your inReach or SPOT device to save your dog, do it. Pay no attention to the naysayers who claim you're a burden on the system because you hike with your dog. You can be as responsible and prepared as possible and accidents will still happen. Ultimately, none of us wants to have to call upon SAR for our dogs (or ourselves or our human friends). But in the case of a real emergency, flip the button.
Stay safe out there.