Caproghagia - It Makes You Un-Poop-Ular

Hi.  My name is Christine and my dog is a poo-eater.  Not just a poo-eater, but an avid poo-eater.  Manu does not discriminate.  He will eat his own poo, Chamois' poo, the cats' poo, the chicken poo, duck poo, and I'm sure if he had access, horse and cow poo too.

Um, no.

If I want to sound a bit posh and like my dog has some trendy affliction, I'll say he has coprophagia, which means the consumption of faeces.  Actually, consumption sounds better than eating, chowing down, having a feed.  Consuming.....like he is helping the economy.  Yes, I think I like this term.

Manu has consumed faeces of all types since we adopted him at 18 months.  It's not uncommon for me to get home and drive through the gate, spying him hunkered over, pushing out a big one in the corner of the yard.  Before you can blink, he turns around, sniffs it and starts con-soo-ming.  Oh, I can feel the disgust coming off you, and I can't disagree.  It is gross.  Grosser than gross.

And that's why we call Manu 'The Recycler'

Now if Manu was a rabbit, this behaviour is normal and in fact necessary.  When a rabbit does a poop (we used to call them 'marbles' growing up, because they would roll across the floor as Twitch was having her exercise in the house) the first time it comes out, it is a substance called cecatropes.  This is produced through a fermentation process in part of their digestive tract and contains more protein, less fibre and some essential nutrients.  It is beneficial to rabbits to eat this type of poop.

Manu is not a rabbit.  It has no benefit for him.  Well, maybe pleasure - he does seem to enjoy himself.

Dogs can indulge in this type of behaviour for many reasons.  It may be a physical or medical reason or it may be behavioural.  Manu's caprophagia falls into the behavioural side.

We do know that Manu's original owners didn't do him a lot of favours early in life, and while probably not abused, he was definitely not socialised enough and we believe that he was left alone in the yard a lot without much attention.  This would explain his obsessive and needy behaviour.  Maybe his first owners reacted loudly and often when he ate poo as a puppy, as puppies often do, and he realised that he could get attention this way.  Perhaps he had accidents in the house or inappropriately, as puppies often do, and was not trained correctly about where and when it is acceptable to do your poo's and wee's.    So now we have a sort-of explanation about why Manu might eat his own droppings.

But that doesn't explain his equal love for the droppings of other species.

Apparently cat faeces and chicken and duck poo is very enticing to dogs - I'm not sure if it's the taste, or the smell or the texture, and I don't care enough to investigate - but I do know that lots and lots of dogs like cleaning up after cats, and they also love eating and rolling in chicken poo.  We get a double-whammy from Manu on that one - he loves to have a roll in chicken poo.  Daily.  Sigh....

I hear you ask how does one break this habit...I know that you are only asking out of curiousity and for research in case your dog does it one day, not to point out that maybe, just maybe, I should be doing something about this. Well, you need to be right there at the moment he is about to sink his teeth into a turd.  I work, we live on acreage and I'm not about to follow my dog around to give him positive reinforcement if he turns his attention to me instead of  the steaming pile.  I have heard of some people having success with dousing the doo-doo with hot sauce, but again, that involves catching it in its fresh state.  What would the neighbours think if I ran around the yard pouring hot sauce onto my dogs' turds?  They already think we are lunatics....


Other than the 'ick' factor, I don't see it as one of the more harmful behaviours, it's just revolting.  A lot of things revolt me - I revolt myself sometimes (have you ever experienced what happens to your guts after a night of fajitas and beer??), but you know, I live with it and move on.

Sometimes he'll catch you off guard as you let him in to the house, his face split into a wide grin and panting with excitement.  And then it hits you like a slap as the poo-breath wafts up to your nose. 

I don't smell, do I?

'Oh gross, Manu, you disgusting dog', you screech, while he looks at you wagging his tail.  He knows it's worth it, and that actually you still love him very much. 

Just no kisses please.

Perhaps this is the answer.