THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

A dog’s love of a good chase is both a blessing and a curse. It makes playing with them extra fun; what a joy it is to play fetch and chase with some dogs! And it’s got a dark side too–chasers love to chase cats, cars, joggers and bicyclists, and that doesn’t tend to work out so well for all involved.

In an earlier post I talked about teaching my new pup Hope not to chase Sushi the cat, and several readers asked how I am doing that. Here’s a summary of both a generic plan and how it looks in detail in one home, with one dog, and one cat. Obviously, the details vary tremendously, but the basic plan is relatively universal.

1. MANAGE AND PREVENT: What could be more fun than chasing something if a dog is so inclined? Dogs are, after all, cursorial predators (meaning they run things down for a living), and that tendency is still very strong in many of them, 12,000 + years later. (And admittedly, not so much in others.) There is little more reinforcing than a great chase to some dogs, so once you know it’s an issue, job #1 is to prevent it from happening unless you can use the situation as a training session. That means leashes, gates, etc.. whatever you need to do to keep your dog from getting reinforced by a super fun chase game.

At the farm: Once I knew Hope loved to chase Sushi (happened once outside and once inside), I used leashes, gates and management to prevent it from happening again. If Hope was outside loose, then Sushi was inside.  If Hope was inside, Sushi was in her kitty suite if I couldn’t be on “cat duty.”

2. MASTER at least one incompatible behavior. While you are managing the situation, work on teaching at least one (more is better) behavior that inherently prevents chasing and gives you a chance to give your dog a whoppingly wonderful reinforcement. You could use “Watch” (turn away and look at me), sit down, lie down, turn away and chase you, go get a toy, etc etc. Your choice should be based on finding something that replaces chasing (or even focusing on the chasee) and is something that is easy and fun for your dog to do and for you to reinforce. Don’t choose “Sit” if it’s hard for your large breed dog to sit down, or “Lie Down” if your dog is nervous outside and he likes to chase cars. Fighting fire with fire is often a good idea, so if you have a dedicated chaser, you could teach him to look at you when you say “Watch” and then let him chase you as a reinforcement.

When I say “master,” I mean to teach the behavior (again, more than one is better, gives you more flexibility) so that your dog will do it even when she is distracted. Start, as you would with all cues, with no distractions, and then work your way up to mild distractions, and then strong ones.

At the farm: We were already working on turning to me when I said his name, and sitting on cue, so I used both of those. When we started this, I had only had him for 1 week, so I didn’t want to get too elaborate. I probably said his name + reinforcement 25 times a day, and asked him to sit about the same number of times. For reinforcement he got great treats (kibble for easy responses, cooked pieces of  steak for ones when he was distracted), cooing and belly rubs (he appears to adore them) and chasing me when I ran. Well, I can’t run much, which is truly cramping my style. I hobble along like Chester dragging his bad leg while calling after Mr. Dylan (any one else remember Gunsmoke?!) But I speed up as best I can, and have  friends and Jim use running as much as they can, because herding dogs like Will seem to love little more than a good run after a friend.

3. ASK FOR A BEHAVIOR in the presence of the chasee. Use the behavior(s) you’ve been working on and give your dog a chance to be right or to be wrong. Only do this when you have some control. Don’t start with the dog and cat loose outside, or a loose dog who can see cars passing by right in front of him. Do what you need to do to create a ‘win’ and avoid a ‘loss’… if you need to use a leash, then start there. Perhaps you ask your dog to look at you when he sees the cat behind a gate (no leash necessary there) or when you let them both into the same room together (leash might help here!). If your dog chases cars, be thoughtful about how difficult it will be for your dog to respond to your cue, the one you’ve been working on so hard in other contexts.  Perhaps you start just on your front porch, not walking any closer to the street, and jackpot your dog for any positive response before going any further.

If your dog doesn’t respond to your cue, show them some great food and lure them away from the object of interest. At first I’d give the food (assuming that’s what your using at that point) even if you had to put the food beside their nose and use it to lure them toward you, but after a while you might want to use “negative punishment” and show them the food (right to their nose), lure them away from the car or cat, and then say “Oh Dear. Too bad… you would  have gotten this if you’d been good, but you missed your chance. I’m so sorry.” (It’s really fun here to eat the food yourself .. not sure it affects the dog, but boy it feels great! Unless the only food you have is Liver/Fish Chunky Yunkies or something, Yuck.) If this happens several times in a row (no response), then you need to go back to Step #2, or set up the situation so that the chasee is farther away.

When your dog does respond to your cue, Whooooo Hooo! Jackpot (10 treats in a row, one at a time, while you wax eloquently about how brilliant she is, or run like crazy, laughing and clapping, throwing yourself down on the ground and letting happy dog lick your face.. etc etc…). Give reinforcements based on the difficulty of the exercise. Once you’ve gotten several good responses in a row, start asking for a bit more from your dog (cat closer for example).

Continue this at least 3 times a day if you can, more is better. Don’t exhaust your dog (or cat!) by asking for a Watch, for example, over and over and over again in a row. Ask for one or two good responses, then move on to something else.

At the farm: I began letting Hope and Sushi together in the house and asking for him to either look at me or sit on cue as soon as he saw the cat. (Once Sushi learned she wasn’t going to get chased she stopped running away, which made things a lot easier.) This went very well, partly because I’d worked on it so hard, and partly because Hope is a relatively responsive little pup.  Once I was at 95-99% inside, I started letting my guard down outside and not worrying so much if they were both outside together (after about a week). Then, every time he saw the cat I’d say “Hope” or “Sit” and give him my best and most wonderous reinforcement.

4. USE MILD Positive Punishment when necessary if it’s relevant and suitable. This would only be applicable in some situations, not in others. Try body blocking between a dog and a cat for example (see my farm example below). Perhaps if you had a car chaser you could get between the dog (on leash of course) and the car, and back him up in space a few paces (I love “space corrections” — you’re not mad,  not raising your voice, just ‘taking the space’ back away from your dog.) I am always very cautious about positive punishment, but as I said in an earlier post, I do not think it inhumane in the least if it is done thoughtfully and carefully. After all, as defined, it is adding something (the ‘positive’ part) to decrease a behavior (which is what makes it ‘punishment’ as defined by Skinner et al). The trick is knowing your dog, what you can ‘add’ to decrease a behavior, and doing it with the right timing.

At the farm: A few times Hope ignored my cue, and was about to start another chase. Because chasing Sushi is SO reinforcing, I just couldn’t let him get away with doing it. (In many other contexts I would just let it go and go back to reinforcements… but you just can’t do that when the problem behavior is inherently as reinforcing as anything you can provide.)

Before he could start chasing, I got between them,  facing Hope, and backed him up in space a few feet. While I was backing into him (to back him up), I spoke very softly, but with a low voice, disappointed voice saying something like: “What are you doing Mr. Hope? We don’t bother cats in this house.” Okay, full disclosure, sometimes I used other words, and sometimes they weren’t quite so sweet, but I always try to use a quiet, disappointed, but still benevolent voice.

However, two times I was behind Hope, he was about to chase Sushi and I had no way of getting between them. I said his name and got nothing, and I knew darn well the chase was about to start, so I tossed my bait bag (handily in hand) such that it landed right in front of Hope. I said “no” right before it landed, and glory of glories, the timing worked out perfectly. Hope is a relatively soft dog, and it had a big effect on him. Ever since then he’s responded to my requests to look at me or sit down around the cat, but I don’t think it all would fit together if we hadn’t worked on a solid foundation of what TO DO (versus what NOT TO DO). (In other words, just saying “no” rarely works unless you teach the dog what you DO want him to do first.)

5. BE PATIENT AND HAVE STAMINA. Everything else is the easy part, this is the hard part! What can I say? This is going to take time. How much depends on your dog, you and how much he has chased something he shouldn’t in the past. If he’s been doing this for years it’s going to take a lot more time and stamina than if you can get it turned around early on. Do keep one thing in mind: Research shows that it takes 21 to 28 days of consistent practice to turn around an old habit and learn a new behavior. It turns out that most people are really good at trying something new (exercise for example) for 10 to 14 days. Do the math. Whoops. So think about your behavior around this issue, and remember that you’ll need the most support and help around day 11 to 28!

Hope is doing well, but it’s only been two weeks. I’d estimate we need at least 6 months of work, but overall things should continue to improve, with the predictable set back occurring every once in a while. Right now he still goes over to Sushi, tries to interact, and I have to ask him to sit or look at me. He’ll do that right away, but Sushi is still irritated by his very existence, and Hope still thinks it is fun to get close enough for her to swat at him. Cross your paws for poor Sushi: we finally got stalking out of the picture and now she has a dog who wants to play with her. Maybe she’ll read the blog about all the cats who like to play with dogs?

If you have a chaser that you’ve worked with, I know readers would appreciate any other ideas and tips you have for them.  I’d love to hear too how you are handling it.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: True confessions: between my smashed knee, Jim’s exhausting brace, a puppy who has to urinate ridiculously often (checking on ‘puppy vaginitis,’ will have chinese med appt soon) and now Will having oral surgery as I write… things have been a tad challenging at the farm. Will broke his root canal tooth last weekend, so he is having it extracted. (More on that soon, including some serious grousing, but I have to go check on him now.)

The best thing that has happened all week (besides a delightful visit from my nephew and his wife) is that the toys we ordered came in. We’ve been testing toys for months, and have put the winners on the website. (Along with the coolest tiny Kong keychain you can imagine. We are all stupidly entranced by it. Check it out.) We did have a bit of a surprise: we ordered a tough, stuffed sheep that we pictured as being, oh I don’t know, toy chihuahua size, and it came more corgi size. We have an entire flock in the back room. Luckily, Hope and Will think it’s too cool for words . . .

A reader asked for an update about Will and Sushi, so I thought it was time to fill you in on how it is going. I’m happy to report that things are going extremely well. (Whew!) The entire story would be a chapter in a book (and probably will be!), but here’s the summary:

Problem: Willie stalking Sushi the cat. As I said in earlier posts, this is very different from “chasing the cat.” Cat chasing can be a serious problem, don’t get me wrong, especially if it is predatory and not initially motivated by play, but “strong-eyed” herding dogs who automatically go into a stalking posture around a cat are a real challenge. Using positive reinforcement for, say, looking at the cat and then turning to look at me for a treat or a toy wasn’t working.

The primary problem is that once a strong-eyed dog makes visual contact with an animal it sees as something to be herded, it is extremely hard for the dog not to begin stalking. I’ve read so many books that describe Border collies as “mesmerizing their prey” with their intense stare, but in truth it’s the exact opposite. It’s the dog that goes into a trance.

Super “strong-eyed” dogs are not favored by the top handlers, because they literally become “stuck” once they make contact with the sheep. They just stop moving altogether and stand like statues while you whistle yourself silly trying to get them to move. I’ve worked on that with Willie, having been encouraged by Alisdair McRae  to keep Willie moving and simply not let him stop or lie down for months and months during his early training. (I used to call Alisdair the “Tiger Woods of Herding” but it no longer seems like the compliment it is meant to be!) Willie still can get stuck sometimes, but it doesn’t happen very often at the farm and I’m grateful for the advice that Alisdair gave me early on.

But that strong-eyed predisposition made working with him and Sushi especially difficult. All the techniques you would use (and I did use to cure  him of bark/lunging at other dogs) don’t work in this situation. Teaching him to look at the cat on cue made things worse, and teaching him to get a toy as soon as he saw the cat didn’t work either. Once he saw the cat, he was lost in stalking-land. I tried telling him to lie down every time he saw the cat, but that just kept him in herding mode. (You can read more about what I’ve worked on in Willie & Sushi Part II, 12/9/2009).

We made big strides when I switched to asking for a Sit rather than a Lie Down (not a posture a herding dog takes when working, unless they are a tad confused). Once he had sat down, I reinforced him with play. That helped a great deal. But the next break through was serendipitous: I sent Sushi to a boarding kennel for a few days when a cat-allergic house guest came to visit. Sushi was gone for 3 days, and when she returned I made a decision to use (cover your ears here if you believe in 100% positive reinforcement and consider even mildest of punishments a sin) positive punishment when he focused on Sushi. Three times I threw something soft in between him and Sushi when he lowered his head toward her (twice it was my bait bag full of treats!), then we ran in the living room and played with his toys. Ever since he has been great. I think the combination of the work we’ve done before, the break from having Sushi in the house and starting over anew by stopping the behavior before it could start again was the key.

Granted, it  doesn’t hurt have a puppy to play with to keep his attention off the cat, but the problem was handled before the puppy came. Willie still focuses on Sushi if he sees her in the window, but as soon as she comes in he turns away from her and grabs a toy. GOOD BOY!!!

None of this would have worked if I hadn’t had a good foundation laid beforehand, but it sure feels good right now. Of course, it’s also summer and Sushi is outside a lot, so the big test will come next winter, but right now the Willie/Sushi problem is history. Of course, now I’m working on teaching Hope not to chase the cat (more on that later, but it’s going really, really well…).

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Will and Hope are playing beautifully in the house together, lots of tooth fencing and wrestle play. Every once in awhile Will seems to get a tad irritated and end the play session with a snap and an offensive pucker, but it’s rare and probably appropriate, given that shark-tooth Hope isn’t always mindful of the arsenal he is carrying around in his mouth. I also am quick to let Will go upstairs to take a break if he tells me he is ready, and I suspect that makes a big difference. Who doesn’t need a break from a puppy every once in awhile?

Their play outside is still driven by Willie’s nerdy and rude herding behavior. He just can’t figure out why Hope doesn’t want to play “You be the sheep and I’ll smash into you every time you move forward!” Sort of like the big brother who wants to tie his little brother up to a tree so he can play pirate and his little brother plays the captured victim. But Hope is figuring out he can play as long as he has somewhere to hide, like the edges of the wading pool:

The next photo is Will and Hope in a ‘road training’ session. Hope is learning to automatically lie down every time I walk toward the road. He is not allowed to go within 30 yards of the road, and he is learning to lie down if I move over that invisible barrier myself. This does NOT mean that he wouldn’t go to the road if I was behind him (on the house side rather than the road side) and someone appeared on the road that he’d like to meet. That is a completely different concept, and one we’ll work on once this stage has progressed. This is his 3rd session, and he will now lie down to a visual signal and stay until I come back parallel to him. Once I do, he gets enthusiastic praise, belly rubs (he LOVES them) and sometimes a piece of the cheapest steak I can find in the market. I also think it helps greatly that Will knows the drill and he has big brother beside him doing the right thing. (It’s very controversial whether dogs can truly ‘imitate’ others, but I do believe that at minimum it helps in the sense that Will is not moving around causing a distraction, and I do wonder often if Will’s behavior doesn’t also directly influence Hope’s… Food for thought.)

I’m working on a column for Bark magazine about positive reinforcement. It’s such a simple concept once you get it, but it’s a bit like riding a bicycle . . . it takes awhile to be able to do it comfortably and effectively. In the column, I want to stress that it is the receiver who defines what is “positive reinforcement,” not the giver. I find that to be one of the biggest mistakes that we humans make: doing things we think our dogs like, that they actually define as aversive (and therefore act as positive punishment, exactly the reverse of reinforcement!).

The most common example of this mis-communication is when people praise and pet their dogs either in ways the dog does not enjoy (especially patting on top of the head) or at a time that the dog doesn’t want to be petted  (while playing with other dogs for example).

One of my goals for the column is to broaden people’s definitions of “positive reinforcement,” and I’m going to provide some examples of things we humans might not think of off the top of our head. Here are my two favorite examples. One is from Karen London, Ph.D.. CAAB, (who writes a great blog for Bark by the way). She was out in the country with her newly acquired lab cross when they flushed a deer. She called Bugsy to come just before he sprang off in pursuit, and to her joy and amazement he turned and ran back to her. Alas, she had mistakenly left her treats in a different jacket and had no treats with which to reward him. She couldn’t even take off running to let him chase her because she was in cross country skis in cross country ski tracks, facing the wrong way. But, ever the quick thinker, Karen reached into her pocket and took out a used tissue and gave it to Bugsy when he arrived. Voila! Her dog was thrilled at this acquisition, and Karen’s creative thinking laid a foundation for a solid recall for years to come.

My second favorite story, (continuing along the lines of “yucky things that dogs love”), was at my farm when I had an Advanced Outdoor Training Class. One of the students had a hunting dog who had no interest in anything but sniffing out wild birds and eating sheep poop. Now, if you’re not familiar with sheep, sheep poop comes in piles of small, dry pellets that producers call “berries.” And it’s just grass, after all, albeit a bit recycled. But that explains why I suggested my student just pick up a handful of sheep berries, put them in her pocket and use them as reinforcements. There were no parasites in them that could harm a dog, and although one wouldn’t want to give too much to a dog at one time, they were the perfect reinforcement for this dog at that particular time. Jokes  have been made that if times get tough I could package the stuff and sell it . . . but as effective as it was (it IS what the dog wanted, after all!), I don’t think I’ll find a market for it.

Here’s my question for you: Do you have an example of a creative reinforcement? Something your dog loved that is beyond the usual dog treat-exuberant praise-click & treat menu that we all know and love? I’ll bet many of you do, and I sure would love to hear it. If you send it in, I might use it in the column, so no secrets!

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Rain rain rain. Sure is green here, looks like Ireland. Life in general has been a tad challenging, what with a young puppy and Jim’s arm in a brace and my injured knee (but good news — no surgery.. yeah!  It’s supposed to be as good as new in two months, phew.). Hope and Will played much of the day  yesterday, so good to see. Will gets tired though, and so today he seemed like he needed a rest. I am quick to let him go upstairs when he looks like he needs a break. I sympathize!

Hope shows no signs of wanting to stalk Sushi, but boy does he want to play with her! What an irresistible play bow.

Unless, of course, you are a cat:

But here’s a highlight: we’ve been working on coming away from the cat when called, and bless his furry little heart, Hope came off right away when I said “That’ll do.” Good boy. Of course, we’re working on not bothering the cat in the first place, but hey, it’s only been 3 weeks. In the photo below I’ve just called him, he is just turning away and is starting to come toward me. Jackpot . . . that was worth 10 treats in a row from the treat bag. (and do you love the look on Sushi’s face?)

Hey, why not? Okay, I know, really I do. It costs a fortune to get there, no way around it. But hey, I’m going to do a two-day seminar outside of Auckland on November 27th and 28th, of this year, and what better excuse to take the trip of a lifetime? Besides, the air fare rates just went way down . . .

I’ve been to New Zealand before, and hands down, it is one of the most beautiful place in the world. Ah, it’s true, I haven’t been everywhere, but I’ve been in some drop-dead gorgeous places, including the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, the Denali Range in Alaska, and the fjords of Norway. All of these places are awe-inspiring, but New Zealand still has my heart as the place I just had to go back to with Jim. I seriously considered moving there when I visited, so impressed was I by the people, the scenery, and okay, the food. When I was there the first time (a gazillion year ago? or maybe just 20 +?), I vowed I would come back. And now I get to, thanks to the good people at Learning About Dogs.

The seminar I’m going to do includes discussion, demonstrations, slides and videos on “Advanced Canine Behavior,” “Dog-Dog Aggression,” and “Play.”  You can learn more about it on my host’s site, Learning About Dogs. Granted, you could come to a similar seminar in the U.S., if that’s where you live, but don’t you need an excuse to treat yourself to a special trip? You could travel to Auckland, have your plane fare be a business expense, and then take a well-deserved vacation. (That’s my plan.) Besides, I’m winding down on seminars, wanting to spend more time at home and less time traveling, and I don’t know how many more I”m going to do. Here’s a site just to get you thinking about New Zealand itself.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Baby birds everywhere. The barn is full of newly fledged barn swallows, the fat, matronly Robin babies are sprawling out of the nest on the porch light, the hapless Phoebee continues to try to raise her young in a nest inside my garage–which means she’s closed in or out anytime I’m gone and have shut the door. The wren is nesting again in the vent that leads to the bathroom fan, which hasn’t worked in years because I don’t have the heart to take away the wren’s favorite nest site. The first year the wrens nested I’d turn on the fan switch and hear “cheep cheep cheep” as the air blew across the nestlings, so we stopped using the fan. Now the fan doesn’t work at all, but the wrens raise 2 to 3 sets of young from it every summer, and it means the house has baby birds growing and twittering on three sides. Surrounded by bird life, I love it.

There are flowers everywhere, including iris, daisies, and the ubiquitous mid-western transplant, the peony.

Here’s the center of one, looking far more elegant than any peony deserves.

And here’s Mr. Hope, whose 2nd ear just popped up like a piece of toast. He’s covered in grass and baby burrs, a dog of the country.

Oh my my my. Life has a way of being so interesting. Last night Willie boy reminded me of the joys of a well-trained dog. I am still full of relief and pride that he was such a good boy.

Here’s what happened: Willie and Hope and I were outside right before dark, enjoying the perfect evening (most appreciated after a week of  hatefully hot and humid weather). We tend to stay behind or beside the house, because of the road that runs by the farm in the front of the yard. We are situated at the bottom of a steep, curvy hill in one direction, and a blind curve coming the other way. There aren’t a lot of cars on the road, but when they go by, they go by very, very fast, and most of them couldn’t stop if they wanted to.

Needless to say, if I’m going to have dogs loose outside in the yard they need to be 110% reliable on 1) stopping on cue, no matter what and 2) never, ever going anywhere near the road. (I never walk the dogs down the road, even though it would be a lovely way to get exercise. I strongly suggest that if you live near a road and can manage it–many people can’t, I know–do all you can to avoid walking on the road itself). I work on it obsessively, and can tell Will to lie down and stay and I can walk across the road for any reason and trust that he’ll stay in place on the other side. However, I don’t do it often, and if I do, I never take my eyes off of him. Why risk it, right?

While the 3 of us were outside basking in the glow of evening, I saw a disturbance in the brush across the road. I was worried the pup might see it and take off after it, even though it was a good 75 yards away, so I ran him inside, and told Will to “Lie Down and Stay” on the front lawn while I went to investigate.

Short Story: While leaning over the brush to get a better peak, I ended up in a free fall of about 3 feet, landing on my knee on a sharp rock in a drainage ditch. Full disclosure: I am a five-year old when it comes to injuries. I would love to tell you that I’m a hardy, strong warrior woman, but the fact is that I scream like a victim in a horror movie when I’m hurt. There are a few things I’m pretty good at, but being stoic is not one of them. So I’m lying in this muddy, deep ditch, shrieking like a banshee for heaven only knows how long. I eventually hauled myself out, crying like the total baby-wuss that I am, crawled across the road and looked up to find . . .Will, big-eyed, mouth closed, and in the exact same position I had put him.

Be still my heart, Willie boy, I am SO proud.  I’d had already started the pup on “puppy pauses’ beforehand–what a great reminder of the importance of a great stay. I’ll bet some of you have your own stories of “The World’s Greatest Stay.” I’d love to hear them. I’m hoping to get a video of how I’m working with the pup soon, just in case you are interested.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: (Well, I guess we didn’t leave it.). First and most important: Will and Hope have ups and downs, but things are definitely going in the right direction. Yeah! ….. when it’s good it’s SO great to watch. Will was getting very relaxed until last night, now he’s all worried and doesn’t want to play (because of me… he can’t bear loud noises.. and this time I was the one making them). Their play styles are very different, but they’ve been doing some mouth fencing/wrestle play in the house that makes me smile big time.

Jim has his new brace on after surgery.. turns out it’s worse than the hard cast. Poor guy, he looks like something out of Iron Man, it’s a huge black thing that is heavy and unwieldy.  Six weeks of that and then he’s free! My knee will be fine, nothing to worry about I’m sure.

Here’s Will and Hope running together in the yard:

And here’s the trail behind the hill last evening…. ummmmmmm. (But the gorgeous flowers are an alien, invasive species, so I am slowly trying to get rid of them, but they are sooooo pretty now, hey? (Having a little trouble with photo sizing with updated version of the blog… sorry! will get fixed soon).

The PATRICIA McCONNELL RETURNS A PUPPY! brou-ha-ha (It’s almost been worth it just having an excuse to use that word: brou-ha-ha. Say it over and over and try not to laugh!) has brought up one of the most important questions in dog training. What “problem behaviors” can be ameliorated by training and/or management, and what can’t? Ah, the answer is a book unto itself (and yup, it’s going to be a topic of the book I’m about to start writing), so I can’t answer as fully as I’d like here. But here are some thoughts, that relate to my recent experience and to our relationship with dogs in general.

First, as many wise readers have noted, there is such a thing as temperament in dogs, just as there is in people.  Temperament is defined as a set of behavioral predispositions that are seen very early in life (within days of birth in infants), believed to be strongly influenced by genetics, and are relatively stable over time. (Personality, on the other hand, is the combination of an individual’s innate temperament and their experience–the interplay of ‘nature-nurture.’) In most mammalian species, there are some tendencies that are so strongly innate that they can be shaped but never completed turned around. Just as no one expects a blood hound to work a flock of sheep, no one expects a fearless, bold puppy to become a shrinking violet unless it was subjected to a major trauma.

Will is a great example of the tenacity of temperament: As a young pup he was pathologically afraid of unfamiliar dogs, the worst I’ve seen in over 20 years. He has come so far it makes my heart swell—he has lots of dog buddies, makes wonderful choices to keep himself out of trouble, and does extremely well in a variety of contexts. But he’ll never be a dog park dog and I’d never let 5 big male dogs run into the house and surprise him. He would be terrified. He was also one of the most sound-sensitive dogs I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t take him out and about because he didn’t habituate to environmental noises, he sensitized to them and became worse. (I know, I know, some of you are asking now: Why didn’t you take him back!!! The answer is complicated, but here’s the quick answer: he was so bad I truly believed he’d have to be euthanized if I didn’t do everything I could to turn him around. His name is “Will” because I asked “Will he or won’t he make it through his first year?” More on that in later blogs and the book to come.)

So, there are some innate traits that can be shaped and changed, but not eliminated. Many of them cause no problems at all in some contexts, but not in others. I’ll talk about context in a minute, but here are some (just some) of the behavioral predispositions that can be influenced, but rarely eliminated:

Dogs who want control: Call it “dominance” or “status seeking” or whatever you want, but some dogs seem to come out of the chute wanting to control objects, space and their own bodies. Just as some babies are cheerful and smiley, and others are inhibited and fearful (and continue to be as adults in their 20’s), some dogs seem hard-wired to want to control their environment. That’s often just not a problem, it can be dealt with easily enough with the right (positive) training methods and in the right context, but it can’t always be eliminated. (Ah, there’s that probability statement again!). And the contexts in which that predisposition most often leads to serious trouble are: 1) Two same sex dogs who are both controlling and 2) controlling/dominant/high status dogs in a home with very young children.

Dogs who are sound sensitive: This is again something that can be shaped and conditioned; but if it is moderate to severe, can rarely be eliminated.  Will is so very, very much better than he was, bu this is not a dog to volunteer for military duty. He just never will be a dog who is literally “bomb proof.” Will stills reacts strongly to some sounds, and gets nervous in noisy environments, but we cope with it without much trouble because of where we live and how I manage him. However, if a bunch o’ football fans wanted to come to the house and scream bloody murder over a game on TV, I’d put Will in his crate and shut the door (or go on a long walk!) Will could never make it in a noisy day care for example, so how ‘fixable’ this issue is depends on the context. The new pup is also quite sound sensitive, but he recovers quickly and isn’t anything like Will was when he was young. I’d score Will, when he was a pup, as an 11 (out of 10, no kidding), new pup as a 5, first pup as a 2. Both pups will be just fine, but new pup will take a bit more work. It will be easy to handle at this level of intensity, but is something to be aware of.

Dogs who are fearful: Fear can come in many different contexts, from fear of other dogs, to fear of unfamiliar people, to fear of environmental change or loud noises. Will showed no sign of fear of people until he was an adolescent (classic “juvenile onset shyness”), which was easily overcome by classical conditioning for about 6 months. However, he is easily overstimulated and frightened, and he’s just never going to turn into a dog who comfortable at a shooting range.

Dogs who live through their nose: Some scent hounds seem to put their noses down a few hours after birth and don’t pick it up unless you are rubbing their ears and there is nothing else going on. Of course, this is exactly what they are bred for, so it is surprising sometimes when people complain that their Bloodhound doesn’t listen in the woods.Can you train around that if you are a skilled trainer? You bet, but is this the dog who would be the best choice for a novice owner who wants a dog to stick around during long walks in the country? Maybe not. Context again makes this a cost or a benefit.

There are many other behaviors we can add to this list: I’d love to hear your input on it. But whatever the issue, here’s what is critical to understand: just as in medicine, some problems can be prevented if you can see them coming, some are easily treated or managed, some can be treated and managed with difficulty, and some are simply deal breakers in a particular context. And as one astute reader mentioned, many ‘problems’ aren’t problems at all… at least not in a particular context. I have seen so many dogs who were in big trouble until they ended up where they needed to be all along…

Ah… such a big issue! We’ll continue this conversation off and on in the future, because I think it is so important.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Here’s New pup/Nick/Riddle/Chance/Flip/Bug-in-the-Rug with big brother Will. Pup is absolutely smitten by Willie, and Will is doing great with him. Who knows what will happen in the months and years to come, but right now, I’m going to soak up what’s happening right now.

There are two great new books out, one I have mentioned before that I drank up like a cup of hot chocolate on a warm day: Scent of the Missing, by Susannah Charleson is out, and I just loved it. I liked it so much I contacted her PR rep with the publisher and said “Please bring her to do a signing in Madison!” Here’s what I wrote about it: ” A brilliantly written book that should be on every dog lover’s bed stand. Charleson’s use of language is so rich I’m not sure I want to read her book or eat  it.” Micheal Perry, who wrote the gorgeous book Truck, and a first great book, Population 485–(wonderful wonderful books) wrote “… With lean, lovely prose she takes us on a clear-eye, compassionate journey into a mysterious world in which every story begins as a ghost story.”

Scent of the Missing is about Susannah’s journey into Search and Rescue, and the joys and challenges of taking a tiny, full-of-herself pup through the rigorous training required of an  S & R dog. Susannah is bravely honest about the ups and downs of her experience, and is simply a scrumptious writer. She is coming to do a signing at  Borders West in Madison, Wisconsin next Wednesday, May 19th. I hope anyone in the area can come out to support her.

Another great book is Chase! by Clarissa von Reinhardt. I met Clarissa when she brought me over to Germany to participate in a conference, (which was great by the way, lots of super speakers) and she has written a wonderful book for people who want to walk dogs off leash out in the country. As I said in my blurb, just the idea of a “sausage tree” is worth the price of the book. I think this a great, practical book for anyone who has a dog who is a tad challenging to walk off leash, and for any trainer who wants to add to their tool box.

There is one section I don’t agree with, and I’m curious what you think. Clarissa advises against “frequently throwing balls, sticks or other objects for your dog to chase and/or retrieve” if you have a dogs who loves to chase things. Interesting, I tend to do the opposite: use that desire to chase objects as a reinforcement for coming when called, and stopping on cue. Your thoughts? However, that caveat said, this book is full of some great ideas. Have you read it yet?

Meanwhile, back on the farm: It’s cold and rainy and I am enmeshed in the ‘return the pup’ controversy and house and crate training a new puppy and finalizing grades for 150 students and making arrangements for Jim’s surgery next week and the need for farm help for the next year. I’ll just leave it that it’s seems to be pouring rain in many ways, in many contexts. Good news is that the pup is thriving, worships Will and I absolutely adore him. Although I’m feeling a bit like a swimmer in raging river, I am 100 % sure I make the right decision. I’ll write soon (hopefully tomorrow) about the good questions of 1) what behavior is ‘fixable’ and what isn’t and 2) if I could do the process all over again, would I do it differently…. Stay tuned, and thanks for hanging in there.

Here’s a photo from a friend, of the Trillium in his yard. It’s a native species and is all over the woods right now… so beautiful, even in the pouring rain!

Well, I just hate it when I mess up. And I did… instead of clarifying something I confused it. Sigh. Let me see if I can do a better job this time:

In my last post I talked about saying “Ready” before I lifted Will’s paws to clean them, and how valuable I felt it was to communicate to a dog what you are about to do. Readers responded (so beautifully I might add) with their own examples of the value of communicating one’s intention rather than always just giving a “cue” asking the dog to perform an action. All good so far, and if you haven’t read the comments yet, I’d advise you do so, because there are so many good ideas about how to help your dog prepare for what is about to happen. (I liked them so much I printed them out.)

At the end of the post I labeled this as “meta-communication,” which is defined as “communication about communication.” The example I gave, correctly, was a play bow in canine communication, which is taken to mean: “Don’t take these growls and bites seriously . . . I”m just playing.” A verbal equivalent in our own species is “Hey, I’m just joking!” or “Pay no attention to what I say in the meeting: I don’t necessarily believe it but I’m saying it for a reason.”

Meta-communication is an interesting aspect of communication, and there well may be some good examples of it in our communication with dogs, but the one I used was not one of them.  Several discerning readers were right on when they questioned how I was using the concept. “Ready” doesn’t really say anything about how to interpret my next actions or words. Rather, it clues the dog into something that is about to happen. Such a signal is, I believe, incredibly valuable, but it is not an example of communication about communication, it is an example of communicating what is about to happen. Very different things. So, here’s a question for you: Can you think of an example that really IS meta-communication from you to your dog? Here’s one of mine that might be: On occasion I’ll actually say in a very quiet voice: “Will, pay attention now, this is important.” (Does he have a clue what I am saying? Doubtful to say the least, but I suspect that my tone and demeanor suggest to him that my next words need to be taken more seriously than usual.)

Meanwhile, back on the farm: It’s been quite a week. I admit to be a tad distracted by the wonder of spring and a number of other activities, troubles and joys.  My sister’s brief visit was exquisitely wonderful, the silo came down with only moderate angst and minor problems (a large wooden feeder got smished, it took 4 loads of gravel and dirt to fill the hold, even after all the cement staves were pushed into it) . . .

. . . waves of avian migrants appeared (from Rufous-sided Towhees to Blue-winged Warblers), the electric fences were successfully moved and tested, buckets and buckets of weeds were rudely jerked out of my flower gardens, time was spent constructing the last exam for my UW course, poor Jim ripped the bulk of his bicep into two pieces, and oh yeah, no surprise to discerning readers, I bought a puppy. Coming home Saturday. Oh my.

A short post today, but I hope a helpful one. It’s inspired by the “mud luscious and puddle wonderful” nature of spring, and the need to wipe off Will’s paws as we enter the house when it’s wet outside. As I was drying Willie’s paws a few days ago, I thought about how much easier it is now that I say “Ready?” right before I pick up each leg. Since I started communicating my intention (“now I am going to pick up this paw”), he is beginning, on occasion, to pick up a paw himself, but more often he will shift his weight so that it is less awkward for him. (Yep, I could train him to pick up each paw on cue… also a potential solution, but keep reading for some potential benefits of a more generalized cue.)

Keep in mind that this is the dog who, as an adolescent, growled at me  when I picked up a paw to dry off the mud. That was 3 years ago, and I remember saying something like “Oh, don’t be silly” and continuing what I was doing. He growled one or two more times, but we worked through it and I haven’t heard him growl at anything in years. However, he doesn’t enjoy his paws being cleaned, as most dogs don’t, and the process got me thinking about how little control a dog has over having his/her body moved around, even gently, without any say in the matter. That’s especially difficult if there is any pain involved in putting more weight than usual on one limb. I’ve always been aware of Will’s bad shoulder, and have always been extra careful about picking up the other paw, but a few months ago I started saying “Ready?” right before I picked up a paw, giving him a chance to shift his weight himself.

It’s made a difference to both of us. I lean down and put my hand close to a paw and say “Ready?” and he either shifts his weight or picks it up. Paw cleaning is not only faster, it feels like Will and I are moving down the same path, instead of trying to go in opposite directions. This is a cue that has so many applications; Will’s structural troubles require acupuncture and chiropracty, and he’s not the kind of hail-fellow-well-met who takes being handled lightly. I would bet the farm (and, hey, I have one) that handling Will with force and punishment would have created a severe aggression problem within a few months. In both cases, we give Will lots of options, using patience and communication during the treatments. He adores both practitioners, but he literally hides behind me when the greetings are over and it’s time for treatments. But we work through it, sort of like a dance; sometimes asking, sometimes quietly insisting, but always with an awareness that Will desperately needs to have some say in what is happening to him.

I know many others use cues like “Ready” for a variety of reasons. I’ve heard similar cues most often in obedience, meaning “Okay, time to start working together”. But I’ll bet there are many examples from your own experience of using a cue to communicate your intentions to a dog. I’d love to hear them. I think we’d all learn something from hearing about all the ways that concept can be used. (By the way, signals like “Ready” are called “meta-communication,” meaning “communication about communication.” A play bow is an example in dogs, meaning “Everything that happens next is in play, don’t take these bites and growls seriously!”

Meanwhile, back on the farm: The new fence is working beautifully (more on Will and the fence soon), the bottle lambs have learned to use the self feeder, though they still mug me relentlessly for more, and Snickers has stopped looking for her 3rd lamb, the one I had to take to a friend because 1/2 of Snicker’s bag dried up. The tulips and blossoming trees are in full bloom. Here are Tulip’s tulips, the flowers I planted over my Great Pyrenees grave, her body deep in the soil, nestled onto a bed of of hundreds of tulips, warm and safe in the small hill in front of the house, where she’d stand strong and tall, and bark out her great, white presence to the world.

One last comment, for now, about our relationships with our dogs.  I had mentioned in the last post that I believe that dogs do better if they see us as what I call “benevolent leaders,” in the sense of good parents or good teachers. Here’s my thinking:

Dogs are dependent upon us, granted some more than others, but most of our dogs have no control over when and what they eat, where they spend their time and who they spend it with. They can’t open the door to go outside, they can’t leave their social group to go find another one that they like better, and they can’t provision themselves with their preferred food. They have to know, at some level, that we hold most of the cards. We are able to open doors, we are the ones who can open the cabinets and get out the dog food and we decide who makes up the “pack.”

Because of that, at least in part, dogs know that we have more “social freedom” than they do, and much of their life is dependent on how we use it. Let me be anthropomorphic for a moment . . .not always a good thing, true, but sometimes useful. If you were dependent upon someone else, how would you like them to behave? Think of a great boss, or a great teacher or ideal parent. Wouldn’t they be a person who 1) was clear and consistent, 2) established clear and reasonable boundaries  and 3) saw you for who you really are, and acted in ways to bring out the best of you and inhibit your dark side?

I think that insecure dogs especially are in need of people who teach them to be patient and polite, who help them learn to inhibit impulsive behavior, and to establish boundaries in a fair and clear way so that everyone knows what to expect. We know that part of what makes a social animal nervous and insecure is a lack of ability to predict what is going to happen to them. And more than that, I think insecure dogs need a sense that their human is someone that they can count on, to take charge and get them out of trouble when necessary, and to create clear and fair boundaries that help them learn emotional control.

I have seen so many dogs in my office whose owners adored them, but who were afraid to deny them anything. No boundaries, no rules beyond “please don’t pee in the house.” I had one client whose dog began to growl at her because she didn’t get up out of her chair and go across the room to pick up a toy for the dog. This particular dog had taught his human, literally, to fetch for him, and if she didn’t pick up on his cues fast enough to pick up his toy and hand it to him, he began to growl and threaten her. And yet, I got no sense that this was a happy dog. You might think that he was in heaven, living in some kind of canine fantasy with a person who waited on him hand and foot.  But he was nervous and insecure, and after we started using positive reinforcement to teach him other ways to behave, and decided on some reasonable boundaries, he not only stopped bullying  his owner, he seemed like a much happier dog.

And so, although I have concerns about what the word means to some people, I still use the term “benevolent leader,” in the belief that most dogs are relieved to be able to count on their human to, as one dictionary defines “to lead,” to “guide something along the way.” That’s not a bad thing to do for the animals who are so dependent upon us. We just need to do it with love, patience, benevolence and most of all–a good sense of humor.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: It’s exquisite spring weather, 60’s and sunny and all emerald green grass and liquid bird song. Here are 2 of the 3 bottle lambs that Truffles doesn’t make enough milk for. They are just starting to frolic after getting their bellies full of goat milk.

And here are the 3 ewes who lambed most recently. The rest of the flock has dashed up the hill for 2 acres of clover and grasses, while these 3 stay closer to the barn. That’s Truffles, the ewe with the problem udder, on the left. Her 3 lambs are the ones on the left too, although the one with the most black is in the foreground. Dorothy is in the middle with her twin lambs, while Snickers is on the right with her all white triplets. Snickers and Dorothy are especially cautious about leaving the safety of the barn. Dorothy is so cautious that I have to feed her separately because she is hesitant to leave the barn to feed with the others. Her lambs are tiny, tiny tiny tiny, but their little bellies are full when I check on them. I gave Dorothy extra grain last night because I’m a tad worried that she isn’t getting enough food.

As I write this they are all at the top of the hill on an Irish green pasture. I can almost hear them tearing the tips of the grass off as I write . . .