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.

Friday Felines

Smokey joins us on the sofa sometimes. He likes to lie down between us and let one or both of us pet him. He turns on his purr machine. If we get up, he stays for a while, just chilling out.smokey chillin

He’s a cool cat.

Winter came knocking

It was 23 F when we got up Monday morning. It’s already been colder this winter, but this is the first time the Atlanta TV weather forecasters have been so excited (“The polar vortex is coming! Run! Run!”). The temperature slowly dropped all day.

Leah was worried about the cats Sunday night, so we let Zoe, Smokey and Sylvester stay inside in addition to Chloe, who has been staying in since it got cold. But nature calls, so we put them out for a while in the morning.

Smokey did not like it.

Let me in

Let me in

With the wind, it felt much colder than 23, so I thought Monday morning when I walked the dogs around the house it would be a good time to wear my LL Bean fur cap. My brother gave it to me a long time ago when he lived near Pittsburgh, but I haven’t had a good excuse to wear it until now. Plus I lost it for a while.

I was not as unhappy as I look here

I was not as unhappy as I look here

If you look closely you can see the red star from the Russian pin I got at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics. I think it fits the cap.

Russian star

Russian star

The dogs wore their winter coats when I took them out Monday morning. I didn’t take either of them for their usual long walk, but I did take Zeke for a shorter one. I left Lucy inside; small dogs lose heat faster than big dogs. We had a little snow overnight, and there were still a few flakes floating around when we walked. They were small and glittering, and they seemed to float more than fall. When a little breeze stirred them, they all took off in the same direction like a flock of birds.

Monday night was even colder. It was 6 F when we got up this morning (Tuesday). The dogs got two short walks around the house for purposes of nature calls, but only Zeke will get a longer walk, and he’ll have to wait till this afternoon when the temperature is supposed to reach 26. The cats, of course, stayed in Monday night, too. Unfortunately, Rusty and Dusty won’t come in, so they had to rough it in the cathouse or somewhere in the garage. I hope Dusty didn’t spend the night in a culvert.

The very low (for us) temperatures are an opportunity to see heat transfer at work. As you all know, wind chill is a great favorite of weather forecasters. One of the Atlanta guys said that it only refers to effects on humans, and that is partially correct. If the temperature is 35 with a wind chill of 20, a human will feel very cold without a coat, but a glass of water still won’t freeze. On the other hand, if it’s 6 F with a wind chill of -20 F, a house will lose heat much more quickly than it would in still air. We saw that last night. We (and by “we” I mean “I”) kept a fire going in our wood-burning stove all night, getting up twice to feed it. The stove kept the basement at around 77, but our bedroom dropped to 68 and the bathroom dropped to 66. Ice formed on the sliding glass doors with aluminum frames. And even with the stove going, our heat pump came on several times Monday night. Under more normal conditions, the stove alone will keep the house warm enough that the heating system doesn’t come on. Six degrees and wind removes too much heat from the house for the stove to keep up with it. At these temperatures a heat pump relies almost entirely on resistance heating, which is going to show up in our power bill.

The house complained about the temperature. The deck on the back and the front walk popped and banged all night as the wood shrank and rearranged itself.

This morning dawned clear. The sun is struggling to warm our bedroom and the living room, but I expect by afternoon the combination of the sun and the stove will have warmed the house enough that Leah can take off her anorak and mukluks.

These temperatures are not especially low for many places in the US, but they are for Georgia. Significant winter weather events are rare in Georgia. I remember them by their stories.

The first winter storm I remember was an ice storm in 1959 or 1960, when I was in elementary school. Rain fell onto cold surfaces and froze into a solid, glass-like coat. All night long we listened to the pine branches snapping off. They sounded like gunshots. The limbs fell onto power lines that were already sagging from their own ice coating, and the lines broke. We lost power for a long time. Our house was heated with a floor furnace, and, of course, the thermostat didn’t work without electricity. But my father went under the house and managed to get the furnace to run steadily without electrical power. I think we were the only ones on our street with heat.

The next I remember was a cold snap a few years later that happened after a lot of rain had caused the streams and rivers to flood. Ice formed on the on the flooded creek where my father took my brother and me and our dog Mike for a walk. Mike went out on the ice and fell through. We heard him barking. We went down to the edge of the ice and called and called. He struggled, putting his front feet on the ice and trying to haul himself out, but every time he got up, the ice broke under him. He finally pulled himself out. I don’t know what would have happened if he had not been able to get out. My father would not have gone after him and left us there, and he certainly never would have let us go after him. I know what I would do today if it happened with Zeke or even Lucy.

The next one was the winter of 1984-1985, when I was in graduate school at Georgia Tech. I lived in a small apartment at the back of a house two blocks from Northside Drive and about two miles from school. When I drove back to my apartment after school, the snow was coming down in hard little balls, but the streets were clear. As I always did, I took my dog Jesse to a field across Northside, where I let her run for a half hour or so. By the time I had changed my clothes and walked the two blocks to Northside, cars were sliding sideways down the hill. The storm hit so quickly that some of the faculty in the Atmospheric Sciences Department were caught by surprise and had to spend the night at school.

Later that evening I was watching TV when my roommate, an undergrad, came in with a young female student. The girl stayed a few minutes and then said she was going to her apartment. I thought she had driven my roommate home, but I finally put two and two together and asked him if they had walked from campus. When he said they had, I said we couldn’t let her try to walk home. She was planning to walk about 10 miles out beyond the perimeter road through the snow in a dress and open shoes. That’s when I came up with my first rule of life: Never wear shoes you can’t walk home in.

We got into my little Honda station wagon and started out. By that time the roads were nearly impassible, and what was passable was usually blocked by cars driven by idiots. We spent about two hours finding a way out to the girl’s apartment, going first one way, and then another. The snow was already so deep that at one traffic jam I turned around in a parking lot and drove over the curb without realizing it.

When we let the girl out at her apartment, I think she said thanks.

This weather is severe, but I don’t think I’ll have a story for it. It’s just cold, and the stove is warm.

stove

Friday Felines

Two of our cats, Rusty and Dusty, are strictly outdoor cats. They showed up with their mother Chloe not long after we moved in more than eight years ago, but the two of them have probably spent a total of about two minutes in the house since then. They used to stay in the garage, but now when Sylvester and Smokey go out for the night, they chase them out of the garage. When the two kitty terrorists are inside, Rusty and Dusty sometimes come into the garage, especially if we have driven the car somewhere and the engine is still warm. Here’s Rusty soaking up a little warmth Thursday night.

Rusty hangin' on the hood

Rusty hangin’ on the hood

The car won’t stay warm long. The big winter storm that’s heading for the East Coast is also going to bring us the coldest weather we’ve had in a long time. It’s supposed to go down to 21 tonight, although Mark says if it’s calm tonight it might not get that cold up here.

Rusty will stay in the cathouse Mark built for them. It’s a pretty nice house. It has two stories with sheltered entrances, and cedar shavings to keep them warm. We have seen both Rusty and Dusty coming out of the house, but we think sometimes Dusty sleeps in a culvert. I hope he doesn’t do that tonight.

 

UPDATE by Mark — I think Rusty spent the night in the garage in a piece of rolled-up foam rubber. That was probably a good thing, because with the wind, our low was lower than the official for Rome. We saw 13 15 (I rechecked the low) on our outdoor thermometer this morning. It was about 28 in the garage. I’m not sure the thermometer is right. I’m in the process of replacing our old thermometer, and I left the outdoor sensor on the front walk railing, exposed to the night sky. That might have allowed it to cool to a lower temperature than the actual air temperature, although the wind should have ameliorated the radiative cooling effect. I need to put it under the walk where I think it will get a more reliable temperature. On the other hand, even once the sun came up, the temperature seemed to stall at about 17, which is still lower than the official low.

We reached our high for the day at 28.