Why My Dogs Do Not Wear Collars

Most dog owners feel that collars should be worn at all times. Collars provide a sense of security to the owner. If the dog were to become lost, the dog wearing a collar stands a better chance at being found and returned. Also, collars provide owners with a better sense of control. One need only grab the collar of an excited animal to calm it down.

A dog found without a collar conjures up thoughts of abandonment and animal cruelty. However, dog collars in multi-dog households can in fact be more harmful than allowing your dogs to be collar-free. Even the so-called quick release collars have a dark side. My husband and I unfortunately experienced this first hand.

Last spring, my husband and I brought home a white husky puppy, which we aptly named Cubby. Cubby is the nickname that Robert from the television show "Everybody Loves Raymond" affectionately calls his younger brother, Ray. The reason for Cubby's entrance into our lives was to be a companion to our rambunctious Chihuahua/Pomeranian mix dog, Perry. It had become increasingly apparent that Perry needed a young friend he could play with. He had been wearing our older dog, Yoda, out (Yoda is our 11 year old Border Collie/Keeshond mix).

One of the first things we did was to outfit Cubby with his very own collar, complete with an engraved tag with our address and phone number on it, should Cubby ever become lost. All three of our dogs wore collars with identification tags on them. Even with a fenced-in back yard, we wanted to err on the side of caution. All it takes is one dart out the front door, or a push on a loose gate with a nose, and we wanted to give our dogs the best possible chance of finding their way home should any of them ever escape. All three dogs also wore special quick-release collars, which are designed to break away easily should they become caught on something. Again, the quick-release function probably existed due to my over protective nature, but I wanted our dogs to be as safe as possible should they ever become caught on something while being out of my sight.

Over the summer, Perry and Cubby's relationship with each other blossomed. Cubby proved to be the perfect companion for Perry, and the two soon became inseparable. When we first brought Cubby home, he was no larger than our active Chihuahua/Pomeranian, so the tug-of-war matches were perfectly matched. It only took a few months for Cubby to outgrow Perry, but Cubby always remained aware of Perry's smaller stature and although he played rough, he never played too roughly with Perry. Our aging dog, Yoda, seemed quite relieved to retire to the role of "grandfather." The two younger dogs kept each other entertained without involving Yoda. It seemed our plan was working.

One Sunday morning, my husband and I retired to the home office while Perry and Cubby duked it out in the kitchen. Cubby was still learning the ins and outs of becoming housebroken, so we generally did not let him out of our sight for very long. It probably took about ten minutes for us to register the fact that the dogs were still playing in the kitchen. When we realized they had been left alone, my husband called their names, but neither dog came bounding into the room the way they usually did. As I got up from my seat to investigate, I saw Cubby in the kitchen with Perry apparently tugging on Cubby's collar. This was unusual. Perry normally immediately stopped playing when we called him. This caught the attention of my husband as well, and we both went to see what was going on.

It took me a couple of seconds to register what my eyes were seeing and then I went into a numb sort of shock. Perry was not tugging on Cubby's collar. He was dangling from Cubby's mouth by his collar. In the midst of their tug-of-war, Perry's collar somehow had gotten hooked over Cubby's lower jaw, and now his collar was stuck firmly into place behind Cubby's teeth. Meanwhile, in Perry's haste to unlatch himself, he had completely flipped himself, thereby creating a figure eight with his collar and now his collar was choking him to death before our eyes. Cubby had begun to panic and flounder about while Perry was being dragged along against his will.

My husband fell to his hands and knees and he desperately searched for the quick release on Perry's collar, but both dogs were panicking so badly that he couldn't keep them still long enough to find the release. I attempted to hold Cubby still so my husband could work. He tried to flip Perry over and undo the figure eight- the solution was so simple - but Perry had fallen into full panic mode and whenever my husband tried to flip him Perry bit down on my husband's hands, causing blood to spatter all over the kitchen floor. Meanwhile, Perry's eyes bulged and his tongue stuck out as he tried to gasp for air. He urinated and defecated, a sure sign the end was near, and still my husband fought to free him. The horrible stench of dog fear curdled the air. My husband, now in full-on shock, screamed for me to get him a knife. He was going to try and cut through the collar. Meanwhile, he kept screaming over and over, "He's killing Perry! He's killing Perry! He's killing Perry!" To this day, I can still remember his screams and the desperation in his voice, and it chills me to the bone.

I felt like I was running through water as I maneuvered around the kitchen table to get to the drawer where we kept the steak knives. My legs didn't want to work and it seemed like all the kitchen chairs were set up to deliberately block me from reaching my destination. I had just reached the counter when my husband joyously, breathlessly said, "He's free!"

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the noise and the chaos ceased. I looked up. Perry was walking away from Cubby as though nothing had ever happened. Despite being seconds from death, Perry escaped no worse for the wear, except for some missing fur around his neck. Somehow or another, Perry had gotten flipped back over in the right direction and as soon as the collar was no longer crossed in that figure eight, it slipped easily off Cubby's jaw and Perry was instantly freed.

I just about collapsed from the adrenalin surging through me, but I immediately removed the collars from all three dogs. I even removed the collar from our cat. Flashes of even worse accidents flooded my mind. What if this had happened when we weren't home? What if it had happened while the dogs were playing outside and we were not within reach? The fact that something so tragic happened while we were accessible plagued me. I always tried to be a good mom, a safe, reliable, smart mom. And yet, we still almost lost our dog.

For that reason alone, I will never collar my dogs, unless it's to go for a walk or to the vet. Perhaps an identification chip will be enough to quell my fears of one of the dogs getting loose from our home, but so long as we remain a multiple dog household, I don't see the safety values in collars anymore.