THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

If you’re a professional dog trainer, you’ve repeated “never repeat a command” countless times. Surely it’s one of life’s greatest ironies. I’ve said it myself many a time, and I’ve written about how hard it is to follow that advice. How easily the second “Sit” comes after the first one, yes? I’ve gotten pretty good at saying things just once, although that doesn’t mean I’m perfect. If I had five bucks for every time I’ve repeated “Lie Down” to my working Border collies I’d be a rich woman. But still, I’m better than most… and am the first to explain why it’s so important not to repeat a command. (If you want your dog to respond to a signal, then repeating it simply teaches him to not respond to the first time you say it and wait for the second.)

So answer me this: the man I call the “Tiger Woods of Herding,” Allisdair McRae, and the only woman who’s ever won the International Sheep Dog Trails, Julie Simpson-Hill, both repeat their commands, and do it on purpose. You can’t fault their success: between them they’ve won just about everything there is to win on the herding circuit. Their dogs are willing, brilliant and precise workers, who are as responsive as anyone’s in the world. And yet, if a dog doesn’t Lie Down when asked, their response is to say it again, but this time louder, as a correction (Do remember that we are talking about working dogs who can be 500 yards away from you, moving at a dead run, dancing on the line between herding and predation. This is NOT a time you can simply ignore behavior that is incorrect, honest.). This method does not lead to dogs who don’t lie down the first time that they are asked, it leads to dogs who are responsive and precise.

If this just resulted in winning trials, but with dogs who were cowed and fearful it’d be one thing, but that’s not the case. Allisdair and Julie can get into the head of a dog as well as anyone I know, and as far as I’ve seen, are relentlessly kind and thoughtful about working each and every dog.

Food for thought.

So I’m working Will, my young Border Collie, last night, asking him to push the lambs into a corner so that I could catch and treat a sick one. (Lambs get diarrhea just like people and dogs do, I suspect it feels just as bad for them as it does for the rest of us. Poor little guy looked miserable.) Willie is doing really well at this kind of task, even though he can be the kind of dog who is “sticky” and won’t push the sheep forward when it’s needed sometimes. But he seems to love real work, when the sheep really have to get into the truck, or the lambs have to be pushed into a corner so that we can catch and treat one. How do I know? Well, I don’t for sure, but his eyes seem brighter, he looks especially animated when we are done and most importantly, he is much braver when we have “real job” to do than he is when we are “training.” Don’t get me wrong, he loves to work sheep anytime, he seems to live for it, and generally he works beautifully. He’s extremely biddable, especially for a young dog, has great natural balance and perfect flanks.

But, sometimes when we are up the hill practicing his outruns or his flanks (going left or right around the sheep), he is hesitant to push the sheep forward. He’ll stop, sit down (silly looking for a working Border collie) and have to be encouraged to walk up on the sheep and get them moving. Not so when we have real work to do. He is much more apt to put pressure on the sheep, facing down a balky ewe or lunging at a lamb to force it to move away from him. Last night he came away with a fluff of wool in his mouth–a first for him in a year and a half of work. (That is not encouraged, but the lamb was not injured in any way, and I was glad to see him get a little pushy at this age. He’ll learn finesse soon enough, right now he needs to learn to take charge when he needs to.)

So here’s the question: is Willie braver, more willing to take charge when we have real work to do because he understands that the exercise has a goal, or because I change and relax my standards, and am focused on the goal myself, rather than on Willie doing it perfectly? It’s hard to say. I’m a pretty benevolent handler, I rarely raise my voice (don’t have to) and have never touched him except to pet him, but I am nothing close to perfect and I know my voice can change if I get frustrated. So is his change in behavior because of mine? Or because he knows we have a job to do, and he is as goal oriented as I am? My guess is that it’s a little of both. It’s always seemed to me that Border collies know when they are being ’schooled’ and when you have a real job to do. I’d love to hear other thoughts on that… from BC folks or from those who work dogs in other functional jobs…

Scottish handlers have always told me that what a dog really needs is to do real work as much as possible.  Will and I have the usual problem, common in the states, of a small flock (24 at the moment) and a small farm (14 acres), and a limitd amount of work. Someday maybe I can retire and get more sheep, and Will and I can herd to our heart’s content.

Monday, 5:16 pm.  Well, I had planned to write something wise and witty about dogs, people and play. I was inspired by the closing ceremonies of the Olympics (finally I can get some sleep, but I’m going to  miss them, darn!), and found myself thinking more about how important play is between people and dogs.

But that was then (this morning) and this is now (this evening).  I’ve spent most of the day on machines and technology… dealing with issues related to the new website, creating an ad for the new play booklet to send out electronically, learning new software, etc. etc. I’ve been riding this computer almost all day, and am ready to rip every hair out of my head.  Why, oh why, can’t we use operant and classical conditioning on machines? If only I could click and treat when the new software program works right. (I’d be happy to shape anything approximating correct at this point.) If only my computer had an amygdala and I could classically condition its emotions to respond to me when I touched the keyboard.

If anyone has figured out how to use positive reinforcement on a machine, oh please let me know. We all know that punishment, the kind one never, ever should use on a animal, can be effective on machines sometimes, albeit erratically.  I am, however, reluctant to kick my computer (although I’ve considered it), verbal corrections have not been effective in any way (did you hear me on the coasts?) and although I’ve tried withdrawing attention, I’m  not sure my computer cares much either way. I must have gotten the aloof version.

Here’s the good news though.  Part of why I’m frustrated is that I have a lot to do before I leave town.. and “leaving town” in this case is going to Sweden to do a seminar, and then going hiking on the west coast of Norway. Oh boy. Oh boy.

Okay, I’ll stop complaining. But, I think you’ll understand this: Lassie is fourteen and a half, and it breaks my heart to leave her now. She’s doing amazingly well, her veterinary acupuncturist, Dr.  Jody Bearman, was at the farm today and raved about how she’s doing. I suspect that Lassie and I are equally vain about how well she is doing for  her age.  Here she is again, in all her glory.  Her face looks like I feel when I leave her…

I’m a little behind today, because yet again I stayed up too late watching the Olympics.  Addicting, aren’t they? And I’m not even that interested in sports… I was the girl who stood in right field in enforced elementary school softball games saying “Please don’t hit the ball to me, please don’t hit the ball to me.” But I can’t resist the drama of watching other people turning purposeless games into lifetime commitments and prime time excitement for the rest of us.

How fitting that today our new booklet about playing with our dogs just arrived from the printer.  I co-wrote it with Certified Applied Animal Behaviorist Karen London, and there is nothing like writing about how to play (and how not to play) with your dog to get you thinking about WHY we play with our dogs, HOW we play and all the ways that play can enhance our relationship with dogs and at the same time, cause terrible trouble. I hesitate to bring up the play booklet now, it seems a bit self serving, but this has been such a big part of my life for so many months that it’s hard not to write about it.

Here’s what seems crazy: as vitally important as it feels to encourage people to use play more to train their dog, I think one of my favorite parts of the book is the section on how NOT to play with your dog. That seems so negative, and yet, I’ve seen so many problems created by inappropriate play.  It’s so easy for members of two different species to confuse one another. For example, research shows that one way people try to get their dog to play is to pat the ground–which in my experience is a great way to lie down when asked, because it seems to effective at getting them to do so!. Lots of people push their dogs away with their hands when the dogs jump up, and yet to dogs, the people are telling the dog they want to play.

Most importantly, twenty years of working with serious problems in dogs has shown me how often people aren’t aware that their dog is becoming overly aroused during play. Being out of emotional control is a problem in our species too (”I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out”)–you’d think we’d know to watch for it in dogs.  Ironically, while over arousal is a potential problem in play, you can use play to teach your dog to calm down on cue using play.

The possible best, and the potential worst of our interactions with dogs–that’s play in a nut shell.  And now, although I really think I should write more, I just can’t resist going home to go play with my dogs…

Will and I playing one of his favorite games.

He has even taught me how to toss things with a small degree of accuracy. Will wonders never cease?

“Puppy nerd” asked a great question in his or her comment: Given how visual dogs are, should one start an exercise with visual signals to help the dog get it right, and then switch to acoustic ones, or avoid visual signals altogether if you want your dog to pay attention to your voice?  Well, this could keep us all busy for the next few months. I know this is a loaded issue, with people strongly advocating one or the other (mostly the latter in my experience.)

There’s no ‘right’ answer, at least not in my opinion.  But then, I’m not a big advocate for there being one way to train. There are many roads, as they say, to the top of the mountain. I think what’s most important is to be aware of the advantages and disadvantages of starting with visual signals.  The first obvious advantage is that dogs learn them readily, and thus you can create ‘wins’ fast and start reinforcing dogs right away. That’s good for dogs, and it’s good for novice owners too, because people get reinforced when their dog does it right, and are more likely to keep training when it works relatively fast.

I also think it’s a good thing to help dogs understand what we want right off the bat; I don’t think it’s always “positive” to not give a dog any clues at all about what he’s supposed to do next.  The other reason I like visual signals early in training is that I love using them in daily life. I love being able to “call” my dog to come, lie down and stay while I’m on the phone, or motion one dog to do one thing and another to do something else.

The disadvantage of starting with visual signals is that if you want your dog to lie down to a verbal command, without relying on a verbal prompt,  you need to carefully and thoughtfully eliminate the motion during training.  This can be tricky, because non-professional dog trainers tend to be relatively unaware of the movement of their body, and end up often using a movement as a prompt. They think their dog is lying down to “lie down,” but he’s really watching to see if their head dips forward. Their dog never really learns the verbal signal, and is always waiting for the owner to give the salient signal. The salient signal to the owner is the phrase “lie down,” but the salient one to the dog is the  head nod. That leads to obvious confusion and frustration on both sides.

For whatever good it is, here’s what I do.  I’d be curious how others handle it; I look forward to your comments.

To train sit, for example. I use the tried and true ‘lure/reward’ method advocated by Ian Dunbar, but I combine it with a lot of operant principles.  I’ll lure the dog into a sit with a treat in my hand, but not give the verbal cue at all. Over the next few sessions I”ll modify the movement of my hand into less of a ‘lure over the  head toward the tail’ to a upward sweep of the hand.  Once I can predict the dog will respond to the motion with a sit 80% or so of the time (you know we all really make those numbers up, don’t you? I’m just estimating.) I’ll add in the verbal cue, being careful to say it BEFORE I move my hand.

After a few sessions of lots of saying “Sit” right before I make the visual signal, I’ll say “Sit” and not move. Now the dog is being asked to sit just to a sound, not a movement. I’ll wait 2 seconds or so. If the dogs sits within that time frame I’ll jackpot big time, with lots and lots of treats, and then try again.  If the dog doesn’t sit and just stares at me like I”m an idiot, I’ll turn away, wait a few more seconds and then try again. If I get no response just to the word for 3 tries, I’ll add back the visual and end on a ‘win.’

So, what do you do?

I got back recently from doing a seminar in Ann Arbor, Michigan for the Ann  Arbor Dog Training Club.  What a wonderful audience; we had a fantastic time together. At least, I did, so thanks to Tammy and everyone at the club  for having me. One of my favorite parts of this seminar (Both Ends of the Leash) is its focus on signals, or cues. The question we looked at in depth was: what sound or movement is actually the one that is salient to your dog?  You may say “Sit,” and think your dog is responding to it, but so often it’s the tightening of the leash or the nod of the head to which your dog is responding. (okay, “to which” is grammatically correct, but good grief it sounds awkward!)

We had a great example of that in Ann Arbor. A lovely Golden (perhaps the most perfect example of “Life is good if you’re a Golden” I’ve seen in a while…. I mean, this dog was HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!) was being asked to sit and stay. The dog was young, and was just in the beginning stages of understanding stay.  We were working on practicing body blocks as a response to a break.  Two women, great observers, noticed that the dog broke, every time, when the otherwise almost motionless owner let the leash unravel just the tiniest little bit.  After saying stay, she backed up one foot and didn’t move, keeping eye contact with the dog. But without knowing it, she let the coils of the leash in her  hands unravel an inch or two, and every time she did the dog broke.

That was an especially interesting observation, because I had just suggested to the owner that the only change I would make in her training was let her body loosen and move a bit while the dog was on stay, because otherwise the stillness would become the cue to stay, and any motion would cause the dog to break.  Sure enough….

What a perfect example of a wonderful dog and a super trainer (she was great, and I apologize profusely for not remembering her name!) communicating on slightly different planes.  It’s just amazing how tiny a movement can be and still get an effect out of a dog sometimes.. sometimes I wonder how we ever manage to communicate correctly at all!

Speaking of, last week I got myself spoiled silly with an entire morning spent with Ken Ramirez at the Shedd Aquarium. He indulgently let me work with Nya a beluga whale (I’ll tell you next time how I screwed up) and let us watch behind-the-scene training of a sea lion and a sea otter.  The morning brought up lots of questions in my mind about the similarities and differences between training captive marine mammals and animals who live in our homes. I’ll talk about that next time…

Meanwhile, here’s the  Golden of our Office Manager, Denise Swedlund, channeling HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY for all of us.

Well, no more storms, thank heavens, but I did read more of Through a Dog’s Ear. In it the authors talk about the effects of sound on the health of humans, as well as that of dogs. I’m as sound sensitive as a stereotypical sheltie, so I pricked up my metaphorical ears. Here I am, some one who can’t stand noisy restaurants (take me to a noisy one and watch me start to tongue flick), is exhausted at loud parties and craves a quiet country morning with nothing but bird song in the air. (Excuse the digression, but I am reminded of a dear city friend, who was visiting me and friends at our places in the country years ago. We all sat on a hill, overlooking a tangerine sky at sunset when somene commented how peaceful it was. Royce, as urban as they come, said “Peaceful? It’s a racket out here. I can’t hear myself think for all the crickets and the damn birds singing.?”

Well, surely one person’s noise is another’s music. But still, the book gets you thinking about how much peripheral sound there is in our lives, and in the lives of our dogs. I was lying on the living room couch reading the book, at about 6 in the morning, the dogs chewing on their frozen, stuffed Kongs. As I read I realized that I had turned on the television out of habit, and the news was nattering in the background. I tend to mute the sound during commercials, but what was I doing reading with the TV on in the first place? I didn’t used to do that, and as I read I realized that more and more I’ve gotten in the habit of leaving the TV on whether I was watching or not. When he’s there, my guy notices the sound, and is better than I am about turning it off–he’s as sound sensitive as I am (very handing when looking for restaurants together when traveling!).

For the last two days I’ve been more thoughtful about the acoustic environment in which I and my dogs live. After all, if constant sound can tire and stress out a person, why not a sound sensitive dog? (like, uh, my Border collies? Right now I’m at the office, and all I can hear is the air conditioning blowing through the ducts and a little traffic trundling down the highway through my little mid-western town. Tonight I’ll go home and listen to the gold finches chick chick chick-o-ree as they fly over the garden and the nighthawks peenting over head. Well, of course, then there’s going to be all that panting while the dogs play…

Here’s a photo of six month old Brodie, who I am babysitting for a dear friend. She is a certified Animal Assisted Therapist, and Brodie is applying for the job as the animal part of the team. I suspect he will start collecting his salary soon. Willie certainly hopes so, they are best friends and play together perfectly. How sweet the sound.

5 AM. I wake up to Lassie’s nails clicking on the floor (wasn’t I going to trim them last night?) as a boom of thunder shakes the farmhouse. Damn.  Why is it that Lassie’s slight discomfort of storms has become more serious as her hearing degrades?  Surely it should go the other way around.

We pad downstairs and lay down together on the carpet, she spooning against me as I stroked her head. (And no, it won’t make her more afraid of storms…. check out my column coming out in Bark magazine soon.)  “Eaa-a-a-a-a-a-a-sy” I crooned, using my voice to help her calm herself.  Why didn’t I bring the CD home from “Through a Dog’s Ear,” a new and fantastic book about the effect of sound on dogs? The CD has music
designed by the authors to calm dogs, and both it and the book are invaluable resources for anyone who is interested in dog behavior.

The authors know what they are talking about.  Susan Wagner is a veterinary neurologist and Joshua Leeds is an expert in psychoacoustics. They got together to investigate the effect of sound on dogs, and to create music that could act to calm nervous canines.  Their work is ‘music’ to my ears (sorry), given that my dissertation research was on the effects of different types of sounds on the behavior of domestic animals.  In brief, I found that short, rapidly repeated notes increased activity, while two different types of notes were used all around the world to slow or stop animals. Long, extended one-noted signals (like “Whooooooooaaaa” and “Staaaaaaay”) were used to slow or calm animals, while one, sharp highly-modulated note (think up and down in a brief period of time) were used to stop fast moving animals (’DOWN!” or “WHOA!).

The research in Through a Dog’s Ear’s follows those same general principles, but adds more, including “harmonic complexity” as well as carefully designed tempos and note intervals.  The authors did research (I can’t wait to see it) that suggested that their calming CD really did settle dogs down.  I talked about this at a seminar I gave in Madison, WI and one participant said her shelter had been using for a while, and it was extremely successful. (So  much so that the dogs who wanted to play chose to go outside, presumably to avoid the effects of the music.) We all listened to the CD, and I swear I had to stop because we all would’ve have gone to sleep. (The authors address that too… they found that dogs settled after just a few minutes, and they could pick up the beat after that to keep the people awake without disturbing the dogs!). I’d love to hear if you have tried it yourself.

I was so impressed with the book that we offer it on our website now (patriciamcconnell.com), but you can get it in lots of places. I haven’t finished reading it yet, but this morning’s storm put finishing it at the top of my reading list.  I’m putting it and the CD in my “take home from the office” bag right now, so that I’ll have it at the farm tonight and tomorrow if the storms come back.

At worst, maybe the  CD will help ME go back to sleep while I cuddle with Lassie through the next set of storms. Here’s my Lassie girl, all fourteen and a half sweet-as-cream years of her.