At a recent get-together, an acquaintance came up to me and asked how he can train his 8-month-old sheltie not to bark so much. I laughed. Shelties were born barking. I wish it were just a matter of some quick training. My own sheltie was with me, and obligingly starting yapping full bore…but he is debarked. My friend was horrified. “Poor thing, he can’t bark,” he said. Tux didn’t feel too bad about it. He barked like he still had his full voice, and enjoyed himself immensely.
Debarking a dog is a surgical procedure where the veterinarian cuts the dog’s vocal chords. The dog will still bark, but only a hoarse cough will come out. This is a hot-button subject between the animal rights movement and anyone who advocates the surgery. Critics feel it is cruel and painful, a mutilation of a dog for our own human purposes, as bad as docking tails and cropping ears. If done for no reason, I agree. A lot of vets won't do the procedure.
This is clearly not a medically necessary operation. So why would someone have it done? And who does get it done most often? Breeders with a kennel full of dogs often debark all of their dogs as a matter of course. I’ve seen collies, shelties, Pomeranians, and various terrier breeds, though I am sure there are others too, all chronic barkers.
I was first introduced to the idea at dog shows, where I saw collies and shelties that were debarked. I have owned both breeds. Some came to me debarked, and I know why.
There’s nothing worse than constant complaints from your neighbors. And as many of you surely know, when it is your dog barking constantly, you get sick of it too on top of the guilt. Think of that aggravation times 4 or 5 or 10.
I have resorted to debarking two of my own shelties. It’s not something I would do unless I felt it was absolutely necessary. In both cases it was either debark or give up the dog. If it is a matter of debarking or giving up the dog, I feel it is justified. I have had several collies and shelties I have NOT had debarked.
I must say that one experience was less than satisfactory. I was referred to a clinic up in Los Angeles that does debarks for only $50. Sounded good to me. I took in my sheltie, and felt like I was in an illegal abortion clinic. Dark, dreary lobby with taped up signs saying “Cash only.” I quickly realized this was a regular factory, a production line of dock, crop and debark. Pit bull and Doberman owners sat with their pups in the chairs opposite me, waiting for ear jobs.
I took my dog in the back room, where a breeder had just had four Pomeranians debarked. The dogs lay on towels on the floor along the hallway while they recovered from anesthesia. My dog was placed on the table and knocked out, and as I watched, the vet took what looked like lopping shears you’d use to trim your trees, and stuck them down Bonnie’s throat and with one big crunch, he was done.
I was having some major regrets by this point. Bonnie joined the lineup on the floor and I waited while she recovered. An hour later, she was up, happy and ready to go home. The vet said there might be some bleeding, but she should be fine. “Try to keep her quiet,” he said.
If I could keep her quiet, I wouldn’t be there, I thought to myself.
Bonnie was fine, and still is five years later. She still barks constantly, and I do mean constantly, but I love her. She is a rescued sheltie, and I realized that if I had returned her, no one else could live with all that noise either. So debarking was the right answer for me.
But I am not going back to that vet.
Photo above: Tux, left, and Bonnie right. © 2009 Terry Albert. All rights reserved.
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