THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

A generous friend just sent me one of Nina Ottoson’s interactive dog toys, and Will and I have been having a great time playing with them. Well, he plays, I watch. And, I think he is having a great time. And that’s the question for the day. Is he really? Do dogs enjoy these toys as much as we like watching them?

I thought of this the second or third time that Willie worked with the toy (Dog Fighter–an unfortunate name in this country, but probably not relevant in Sweden.). He had learned that there was food under the wooden knobs, but hadn’t yet figured it out how to get to it quickly. After pawing unsuccessfully, which only pushed the knob in the opposite direction of what would release the food, he tried to chew on the knob. As suggested in the instructions, I quietly moved my hand between his mouth and the toy to stop the chewing, and let him try again. He nudged with his nose (wrong way), pawed with his paw (wrong way) and then sat back and looked at me in the classic domestic dog’s ultimate problem solving method: “Yo, human, can you fix this for me?” (Something any respectable wolf would never do.)

It was his face that got me thinking. He didn’t look curious, or excited, or plaintive, he looked downright frustrated. I’ve seen the same look on his face when I’ve been clicker training, and I’ve seen an even more intense look, one I’d call desperate, on the faces of other dogs who are being trained through shaping. “WHAT?!!!” I imagine them thinking. “Give me a clue for heaven’s sake!”

I did give Willie a clue, I nudged the knob a bit in another direction, and although I doubt that he was imitating my action (something that is actually a complex cognitive process… that’s a blog topic unto itself) he went back to nudging and pawing and finally got the food treat.

After 5 sessions he is a whiz at it. He’s got the nudge and paw down pat, and although I don’t think he can use the shape of the slot that the knob moves within to figure out which way to move the knob, he seems to know right away that he should change the direction of his nudge if the knob stops moving. And now, his face looks relaxed and excited. Once he’s cleared the board, his face rises, as if coming up for air, with an open mouth, shiny eyes and relaxed facial muscles.

So here’s the question: How much of “working for food” is fun for dogs, how much is just frustrating? Here’s some speculation on my part. Trying to solve a problem can be frustrating, but a limited amount of frustration isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I think Will’s brief moments of frustration while he was trying to figure out the puzzle were actually good mental exercise and a good learning process. However, if the problem was too hard to solve, then I suspect that frustration can become aversive enough to be problematic. In the case of this particular toy, I think the mental exercise was truly good for him in the long run.

And what does he think of it now? Is it “Oh boy, here comes fun?” or… “Why the #&(*^%$ doesn’t she just give me the #@%&*% food? Your thoughts? I’d love to hear them.

One last comment for today: There are SO many meaty topics I want to talk about in future posts: “Social Status and the D.. Word,” “How much time should we be training our dogs..” and on and on.  And I thought I’d run out of ideas. Silly me. (Don’t hesitate to suggest topics. I probably won’t get to them all, but I’ll try….)

Meanwhile, back on the farm: There has been a huge change in the world around us all: the weather is profoundly different. Besides being still light at 5:45 (5:45! Amazing!), there’s still lots of snow on the ground, but the temperature is over freezing every day, high 30’s and low 40’s and it feels balmy and so very very much like early spring. The Chickadees and Blue Jays are singing, the woodpeckers are drumming, the Red Tail Hawks have already laid eggs and are settled over them, belly feathers spread over the oval eggs, somewhere high in the oaks across the road. We’re all starting to talk about “mud season,” the 5th season anywhere with snowy winters. Once it continues to warm, the snow melts, the upper layer of the ground melts, but the soil below stays frozen for awhile, leading to deep, soggy lakes of brown muck that sticks like glue to your boots and covers your kitchen floor, no matter how many times you towel off your dog’s paws.

Shearing the sheep was postponed, my shearer got a job after being laid off for a year, so who could do anyting but cheer him on? He’ll be here next Saturday. I’m anxious to see the sheep without their coat of wool; it’s hard to judge their condition until they are shorn. But, sigh, they’ll still be fat, and not just because they are pregnant. We’re all a tad overweight here, but it’s a lot easier to regulate their diet than my own. They are eating the bark off my apple trees now (don’t worry, they are getting super rich hay and supplements–they really aren’t starving), but, alas, I couldn’t resist the chocolate chip cookie that Jim brought home last night. Maybe I could develop a taste for tree bark?

Here’s Will playing with the Ottoson toy:

One of the great comments on my post about the new Puppy Book reminded me that training “step by step” is not intuitive. Someone may know that there are multiple steps between a dog sitting on cue when asked in the kitchen at dinner time, versus being asked to sit when barking at the visitors at the front door. But what are those steps? And how do you know when to move on to the next one?

I thought it would be helpful to give a few examples. However, I would love it if some of the experienced readers would add an example of their own. My favorite part of writing this blog is the wealth of knowledge of its readers, and I am sure that many of the readers would benefit greatly from hearing a range of examples.

Here’s an example, using the dog sitting on cue when it’s easy for him to comply and when it’s hard (in kitchen, no distractions versus at door, company ringing door bell): Note that this is only one way to get to Step 25: There are many paths to the top of a mountain…

Step 1: Teach the dog to sit (I use the Lure/Reward method to get it started quickly) when holding a treat as a lure, with as few distractions as possible. Use food as lure, do not say “sit” yet.

Step 2: Once dog will sit as you move your hand through its ears and toward its tail, say “sit” before you move your hand.

Step 3: Modify your hand movement so that it is less of a lure and more of a hand signal, sweeping your hand upward toward your face. (This could be in session 1, 2 or 3, depending on how well things are going)

Step 4: 3 times in a row, use your visual signal (hand movement) and reinforce with the treat. The 4th time, immediately after the first 3 (assuming they were successful), say “sit” and don’t move at all. Wait for the dog to respond just to your voice.

Step 5-8: Practice using either the VISUAL or the VERBAL cue one at a time, being careful to only use one or the other.

Step 9-12: Begin to ask your dog to sit when there are MILD distractions. For example, try it outside in the yard when it’s relatively quiet or in the house when someone else is making some noise. Be sure to practice in many different places, not just the kitchen. Begin to give a food reinforcement when asking during mild distractions, and substitute other reinforcements for times when it is easier. For example, you could clap, say GOOD! (I also teach people to condition an association between a praise word and a food treat) and let your dog chase you as a game. Or throw a toy, or rub a belly….

Step 13: Start asking your dog to sit when you are by the front door, or whatever door company comes in through.

Step 14-18: Have all family members ask the dog to sit when they are greeting the dog. Put treats by the entry door so that all family members can easily reinforce the dog for sitting while greeting. Get in the habit of ringing the bell or knocking before you enter your own house, then ask for the sit. Once you’ve given the treat, squat down to greet your dog so that he or she doesn’t have to jump up to get to your face.

Step 19: Have good friends who are dog lovers AND who will listen to you (the hardest part!) start helping you teach your dog ‘door manners.’ Have only one person come at a time. Ask them to ring the bell or knock, and immediately ask your dog to sit (using BOTH the verbal and visual signals) as soon as you open the door. They ask for the sit, but YOU reinforce the dog (because you are the one with the best timing, right?!). If the dog doesn’t sit, close the door and have the person try again. Repeat 3-5 times in a row if you can.

Step 20: (Can be during the same time period as Step 19) When people come over who aren’t part of training, get the best food treat imaginable, and ask your dog to sit (not sit and stay, too hard for now!) before you open the door. Give copious treats for any positive response. If your dog tends to jump up a lot, even after a first greeting, just lure him away from the door with pieces of chicken and put him in a crate, or give him a stuffed toy once he’s made an initial greeting.

Step 21: Once your dog is sitting well when your friends come over and ask for a sit, try it with two or three people coming together (even more exciting and distracting!).  Have each of them ask for a sit, and be ready to give out lots of food as fast as you can!

Step 22: Assuming again, that all is going well (at least 80% compliance), ask for a sit before you open the door when ‘regular’ visitors come over, but this time don’t have a food treat in your hand. Explain through the door that you’ll be right with them (I always say “Just a minute! I’m training my dog to be polite to visitors!”), ask your dog to sit and if you get compliance, praise liberally and run to the kitchen and give your dog a great treat.

Step 23: As above, with anyone, but this time use your praise word and skip any primary reinforcement.

Step 24: Continue alternating primary reinforcements (especially food or toys if dog is toy motivated) with a praise word that you have conditioned.

All this can easily take nine to ten months! (Hey, it’s hard for a dog to control his or her emotions and excitement when people come over. I can relate.)

Step 25: Dog becomes an adolescent. Go back to Step 9, rinse and repeat.

I know that sitting at the front door isn’t a serious behavioral problem for many people, but trust me, for some it really is. I’ve seen so many families whose dogs were out of control at the door, which has resulted in dogs being yelled at, kicked, or stashed in crates for too long. I’ve also met lots of people who have just simply stopped having visitors because they are embarrassed about their dog’s behavior. It can be very stressful to have a dog misbehaving around company (like you didn’t know that.) Of course, there are many alternatives to problems related to greeting visitors (my favorites are training to run into another room when the bell rings, or going to a designated place, see the Manners Minder that Sophia Yin designed.)

Of course, this is just one tiny example… (and I’ve SURE I’ve actually skipped some steps, I reserve the right to modify later!) I’d love to hear from you if you’d like to tackle a description.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: On Sunday, the University of Wisconsin Vet Students interested in small ruminants came out to do pregnancy checks under the supervision of Dr. Harry Momont (standing in back on the left). That’s my girl Rosebud on her butt, getting an ultrasound through her lower belly. We didn’t get a shot of the screen, but the lambs are far enough along that the students could see beating hearts, backbones and other bones of the lambs, all due within 4 to 6 weeks. The ewes didn’t exactly volunteer, but everyone was very gentle and I doubt that any of the sheep were unduly stressed. Jim took the photographs, (thanks hon!), because I had gone up to the house, a tad under the weather and wanting to get out the raspberry/cherry/strawberry pies I’d made for everyone. Ahhh, a little bit of summer in the middle of a snowy day goes a long way!

I’ve loved your comments about play styles after the last post. Keep them coming. One of the points that was made by many of you, that I think bears repeating, is that many dogs can adapt and learn new play styles from others. This is especially true of stable, well-adjusted dogs who aren’t overly reactive to something new or challenging.

Along with chase games and wrestling, several of you mentioned hounds (and English Shepherds!) who like to play “catch the prey” by chasing, play biting and then mock attacks at the throat. Another mentioned a play style that I’ve also seen, that I consider truly problematic. In this case, the dog chases another dog until he catches up, and then bites the chasee, often in the back leg, and brings him or her down. Eeeps. I’ve seen this quite often, and it often appears to me that the dog in question has not learned about the importance of “self-handicapping.”  Some of them even seem to have switched from playing to predation. Of course, that’s one of the tricky things about play–it’s actually hard to define because most of the actions of play are seen in the context of fighting or predation.

However, in healthy play, the participants exhibit “self handicapping” so that they don’t injure or scare their play partner. (See my post on September 10th, 2009 for a discussion and video of self-handicapping). When I see it happen I intervene without question. I’ll first try a loud, abrupt yelp, as if there had been an injury. That will often interrupt play, and I’ve seen some dogs adjust their enthusiasm as if it was their play partner who had been injured. However, I’ve also seen plenty of dogs who did not respond to a yelp. In that case I’ve tried, sometimes successfully, intervening by moving as quickly as possible between the two and body blocking the transgressor. I’ll look directly at them, use a low voice, say absurd things that the dog couldn’t possibly understand but that feel good to say (”You are one total loser dog and are going to be in big trouble in a minute…”) and back them up a good ten feet or so (depending on the dog).  That has helped with several dogs, in that I can then use a verbal warning (”AH!”) when they open their mouths to bite.

I can’t tell you exactly how many dogs that has helped, but many dogs do learn to adjust their play styles, and I’ve had good luck with it with lots of dogs. It doesn’t work on all dogs with this particular behavioral problem, but it’s worth a try.

There’s so much to say about role reversals, play styles and social status, (and yes, I do want to address the issue of ’status’ soon), but here’s one point I’d like to bring up now: I talk more about role reversals in my Play Seminar DVD, but the research of Ward and Smuts found role reversals common in what they called “pushes, tackles, and chases.” They found almost no role reversals for “mounts, giving muzzle licks and receiving muzzle bites.”  There was (in keeping with some of your comments and with my observations over the years) no sex effect on type of play or on role reversals.  (However, female dogs did prefer to play with other females  within their own litters… interesting, hey?) They also found it common for one dog of a dyad to always be the one “on top” (in wrestling, for example), countering the hypothesis of some researchers that play always had to follow the “50/50 rule,” in which each player role reversed during each play session.

I think what’s most important is that play is a profoundly complex behavior, and that so much can be going on within it, depending on a dog’s breed predispositions, personality and experience. My favorite video of a play sequence, by the way, is from Pia Silvani, of two Terv’s meeting for the first time, and adjusting their play styles as they become more familiar. It’s truly a gorgeous example of healthy, appropriate play. It’s on the Dog Play DVD for those of you who haven’t seen it. I am ever grateful to Pia for letting me use it. (And it makes me all oxytocin-y too, it makes me want to get out some candles and a white table cloth for the 2 of them . . .)

Meanwhile, back on the farm: White white white. Snow snow snow. I’m about to take up luging. See that red sled by the barn . . . think I could make it down the hill behind the barn in record time in it?

In this next photo, Willie heard a truck on the road behind him. Interesting, I didn’t see his face as looking worried when I took the shot, but I do now. Humm, am I reading something into it?

Here’s a video of Willie playing with a Lily, a 4 month old female Dogo Argentino. He has just met her, and after a brief greeting by the farm house, we walked up the hill to the Orchard Pasture.

I love watching videos of dogs playing; it seems that you can see so much if you watch them repeatedly. Here are the two main events I find most notable about this episode of play (along with the fact that Willie is playing so well with her! Yeah Mr. Will, what a journey we’ve been on together!)

One, notice how Lily’s play is so often on a vertical plane. Even as a young pup, she spends a lot of energy moving upward, and trying to get on top of Will. You’ll see that especially at seconds 17, 23 and 34. There are other examples, but those are the first three that I noticed.

Secondly, notice how Willie always backs away when she gets a leg on top of him, and dashes off, trying to elicit chase/race games with her. Watch carefully at second 59, how he approaches, gets her attention and then runs away. Willie loves to play race/chase games, and it looks to me like he is trying to initiate them with her. It appears to me that Willie is specifically trying to teach her to chase. Of course, she’s small and the snow is deep for her, so there is no way she could keep up with Will, nor is that a play style that she may ever enjoy.

In addition, I suspect that his reaction to her attempts to mount is more than just trying to elicit a chase game. Willie is very uncomfortable when other dogs try to chin over, stand over or mount him. As a matter of fact, when we stopped playing up the hill and went into the house, Lily began not only to rough house with Will, but began to try even harder to get her front legs and head on top of him. Will couldn’t dash away anymore in the close quarters of the house, and his ears flattened, his eyes rounded, his commissure retracted, and he began an offensive pucker at the distal end of his lips. I immediately stepped between the two of them and asked Will if he wanted to crate up. He sped away from Lily, ran to the study and lept into his crate. Poor Will, such angst. He gets so nervous about other dogs when he can’t maintain control. He is a classic “Alpha Wanna-Bee.” He wants to be in control of everything, but is an insecure nervous wreck about doing so with an individual bigger and braver than he is.

Yesterday he played chase/race with his Doberman girlfriend Mishka, and was totally relaxed even in the house until she lept onto the couch and loomed over him. He tensed up and then ran to the study and hid behind the door. He only came out when Jim came out too, and hid behind Jim’s legs. Then we walked behind a big rocking chair, and stayed behind it until I called him to come to me. Oh Willie. He is trying to hard now to stay out of trouble, but it is so hard for him. I am so proud of him, though. (For those of you who haven’t followed the story, Willie was pathologically afraid of other dogs as a puppy, and went through a very aggressive period until we could get it turned around. He will never be a ‘dog park’ dog, but he’s done so well given who he is and what he started with.

Here’s the video: I’d love to hear what you see in it. I’ve only watched it a few times, and focused on the things I mentioned, who knows what else is going on!

Here’s one small aspect related to the question of how dogs interpret our cues:

I started listing the cues that Will responds to, asking myself if he saw them as verbs or nouns (good point by one of the readers that humans can use one word for both, as in “snow.”) I didn’t get very far before things got interesting. Remember that game that Ian Dunbar used to do in working seminars? Testing out what cues really mean to your dog?

It came to mind when I started working with Will, and I asked him to Sit when he was already sitting. He immediately lay down. Of course, you can teach through this, but I never have because I haven’t needed to. So right there…. Will and I have not defined sit the same way. I think Will defines it as an action similar to:  “Go down toward the ground,” while I’ve defined it as a posture. Right there we have a big difference in perceptions.

Lie down: When I asked him to Lie Down while already doing so, he flipped his hips and began to lay down on his side. Again, it looks like he defines it as an action (”go down farther toward the ground!”), while I tend to think of it as a posture.

Here’s another one to think about: What does “Stay” mean to your dog? My speculation is that dogs are extremely sensitive to ‘place,’ and that stay does not mean “don’t move your body,” it means “remain in the exact point in space.” I’ve come to define it that way too. If I tell my dog to Sit and Stay and he lays down, I’m perfectly happy because his behavior suggests that he has accepted that he’s not going anywhere and is choosing to get comfortable. Of course, if I competed in obedience that would be a problem, but I don’t so it doesn’t bother me. (Although I have to admit that I wish dogs weren’t asked to do long Sit/Stays.. it’s just not a comfortable or natural position for many dogs.)

Right now Will and I are working on using one hand signal for “High Five” and another for “Touch” (with your nose). He is struggling, because he anticipates so much… the second I move my hand he throws out a paw for a High Five, even if it’s his “Touch” signal. I can’t use separate hands because I’ve taught him to High Five with both fore legs, depending on which hand I hold up. Like so many highly visual dogs, he is so reactive to movement that sometimes it makes things harder rather than easier. I’m putting both High Five and Touch on verbal cues and we’ll see if that makes it easier for him. (I’m also going to tape my visual signals and see if something I am doing is making it harder. Moving my hand to the right 1/4 of an inch each time without knowing it? Could be…..)

Meanwhile, back on the farm: another 6 inches of snow or so. Nothing note worthy compared to some of the country, but pretty enough and thick enough to wear out me, Will and the sheep when we did some herding up the hill. Boy that warm bath is going to feel good!

Here’s Dorothy, impatiently waiting for me to put the &*^%$* camera away and get out her hay.

And because I am starved for color, here’s a Little Blue Heron from my trip to Florida in January. (This is one chilly bird, by the way, it was cold and rainy and the bird has one foot up to warm it and his/her feathers fluffed to capture air for more warmth. Seemed appropriate for this snowy day in Wisconsin!)

One of the segments on the BBC show The Secret Life of Dogs that generated several interesting comments was the segment that showed “Betsy,” (not her real name, you gotta love that some dogs now have ‘nom de plumes’) retrieving an object after being shown just a photograph of it. Wow. That truly is amazing. It got me to thinking about the trouble I had a year or so ago when I tried to teach Willie to discriminate between toys based on a name. For over a year he’d been told to “Go get your toy,” and he’d pick out whatever toy he liked best that was nearby.

When I tried to teach him to touch or pick up a toy based on a different word (”ball” or “rope”), he became hopelessly confused. He became so stressed over the entire operation that I dropped it and went on to teach him other things. My best guess is that he had categorized all signals as requests for action, not as labels of an object. That’s a pretty big frame shift to make. And yet, here is Betsy, able to pick out 250 different objects by name and by just looking at a 2-dimensional photograph (which dogs, by the way, were not supposed to be able to do). And of course, there’s Rico, the other famous BC, who could not only pick out hundreds of objects, he could get the larger of two versions, AND could ‘fast map,’ or be asked to retrieve something he’d never heard of or seen before, and deduce that it was the only unfamiliar object in a group of familiar toys. Wow. These are some smart dogs.

Will now has learned labels of living things: he knows “Jim” and “Trisha” and “Sushi.” I can say “Go to the Barn” or “Go up the hill” and he runs the right way, but I suspect he doesn’t think of the “barn” or “hill” as a label of the object itself, but rather of an action and direction. The BBC segment got me rethinking about what Willie understands as an action and what he understands as a label. He knows “get your toy”… and I suspect understands that “toy” relates to the objects he plays with, but does he see it as a label or as an action? Is it more about playing with anything in front of him, or the objects themselves?

I’m inspired now to start testing this out with Will. I’m going to write down every word and movement I make that I think might be a cue to him, and what I think it means to him. This, needless to say, is going to take some time, so stay tuned for what I come up with. Meanwhile, I’d love to hear from you. How much of what your dog understands relates to an action, and how much is it a label of an object? Is there any difference between learning to label a living thing versus an non-living object? Willie definitely knows “sheep” and “Sushi,” and I wonder if it matters that the ‘object’ of a label is living or not? He knew all the names of my other dogs, in that he’d turn and look at them if I said “Where’s Lassie?” He gets excited when I say “Dinner,” but does it mean the actual food itself, or the action of eating them? See how interesting this can get?

Meanwhile, back at the farm: We are all continuing to heal. Willie played for hours with his new friend, Max, an adolescent Border Collie who lives not far away. Watching them run and run and run huge circles around the Orchard Pasture cheered me up immensely. The best part of it was the way they played, because Willie didn’t always play as well with others. Willie would start running with another dog, then get in front and air snap toward their face to stop their forward movement. Then he’d stand still with a satisfied look on his face. Look what I accomplished! Boy, am I a good herding dog! Eventually the other dog would just stop running, because what was the point? However, recently the lovely Dobberman Mishka seemed to have taught Willie to stop playing by herding. Mishka put up with his “herding” two times, and then growl-charged at Willie. Totally appropriate, very controlled; I remember saying “Good girl!” I was so impressed. Willie backed off with that confused, silly look that male dogs get around females who discipline them, and never tried it again. They began racing instead and now it’s Willie’s favorite game.

It helps that Max is fast. Really fast, and so is Willie, but neither can really beat the other, so they run and run and run in the snow, stop and get their breath and then run some more. And you’d think that would have tired Willie out enough to sleep through the evening? Of course not, he kept dropping toys in our lap all evening long. I think it just warmed him up. Here’s some photos of Max and Willie playing. Not the best photographs, but I love how it shows the world we live in right now. Black and white (dogs). Black and white (everything else!)

There is a great BBC special on dogs on YouTube, (sent to me by an alert reader, thank you!). I spend so much time in front of my computer that I rarely want to watch an hour long show on it . . but this time I sat down and didn’t move for 60 minutes. It’s called The Secret Life of Dogs, and it’s great. Hands (and paws) down, great.

It has sections on Miklosi’s work on dog barks (people are very good at discriminating between barks given in 6 different contexts), Juliane Kaminksi’s work on the ability of dogs to follow a pointing gesture (which chimps and wolves do not seem able to do), Belyaev’s & Trut’s work on selection for docility in foxes (resulting in a profound number of physical as well as behavioral changes which basically result in domesticated foxes in 20 generations), and Kringelback’s work that asks if our brains respond to images of dogs as they do to images of babies. And more. No kidding. It’s extremely well done, and avoids a lot of the superficial generalities we so often hear about us and dogs.

What I find most interesting is the question, stimulated by the research on pointing,  about whether dogs and humans have a special sense of social cooperation. I don’t mean cooperation in the sense of mobbing predators or defending young or gathering food as a group, but in the sense of understanding that another individual needs help, and either offering to provide it, or being an individual who needs help and expects that one might get it from others.

This concept, the idea of helping others in a bit of a jam, seems to be one of the distinctions between the way our brain and the brains of other primates work. For example, in the PBS television special, The Human Spark, researchers have someone move toward a closed cabinet with a heavy pile of books. The person needs to open the cabinet, but requires both hands to hold onto the books. Very young children will try to help, but adult primates, perfectly capable of opening the cabinet, seem to pay no attention to the problem that another individual needs solved. Nor do they seem to look to others to help them solve problems (like dogs look toward us when they can’t get food out from under something, which wolves never do).

It is speculated in The Secret Life of Dogs that perhaps domestic dogs have a sense of helping others that fits more with human behavior (or society) than other species.  That might explain the results of the pointing experiment, in which dogs behave as though they have some comprehension that someone is trying to help them find the food. Of course, we have no idea what’s going through their brain, and in many ways they are far less cognitively complex than any of the apes.. but still, it is interesting to think about.

I’d love to hear what you think about the show if you get a chance to watch it. What got your attention the most, or what questions were generated from the show?

One more show you might want to watch: HBO has a special movie this Saturday night on Temple Grandin , the autistic animal scientist who has done so much to improve animal welfare and the lives of autistic children . The movie is getting great reviews, including by Temple herself, so if you get HBO, you might want to go out of your way to watch it. I know Temple; she’s a pretty amazing person, and I can’t wait to watch the movie. I don’t get HBO, I”m too cheap to pay extra for it, but friends will record it for me. Let me know what you think.

Meanwhile back on the farm: Willie is doing better every day. The snow is shallow enough that we can work the sheep again, and that is good therapy for both of us. Also, I recently realized, to my chagrin, that my sheep are downright fat. That’s not healthy for them or their lambs, which are due in 2 months. So the ewes are on a diet and a “Biggest Loser” exercise program. It’s good for me and Willie, and for them too. I suspect that Willie and I are having more fun than the sheep, but then, I sympathize with them. No one would ever call me a gym rat.

Here’s Willie this morning, waiting for me to throw his toy . . .

A few days ago I wrote a post on how to handle signs of impending trouble if you see it in someone else’s dog (Please Believe Me, Trouble Brewing!) I asked for comments from other pro’s on how they handle this situation, and from owners on how they would like it handled. The comments sent in response have been so helpful and interesting I thought this topic deserved another post.

Here is an admittedly brief summary of how readers responded (see the original post for their complete comments and suggestions):

PLEASE TELL US! Several people wrote in with sad stories of clear problems that trainers or vets never mentioned when the dog was younger. Many people wished that someone had said something to them sooner. The trick is how and when you say it (read on!)

KINDNESS Oh please please please remember how fragile and vulnerable we are about our dogs. Expressing empathy and concern goes a long way toward having any comment you might make about someone’s dog be heard.

OFFER SOLUTIONS I cringed reading comments about trainers who said things like “You need to get your dog under control!” and kept walking. Isn’t that, uh, what we trainers are for? Don’t people come to us to learn how to do that? The comments made it crystal clear how unhelpful it is for someone to tell you that you have a problem, and then offer no solution–what good is it to know that you have a serious problem if the person who brings it up offers no help or potential solutions? This might be a brief discussion, an appointment, or a referral to other resources, but “Boy do you have a problem!”–without any help attached is, in my mind, nothing less than an act of indirect aggression.

GET PERSONAL It helps tremendously to bring up a similar situation or dog that you yourself have had. I didn’t mention this in my first post, but I realized while reading the comments that I do it all the time. It helps people see that the “problem” is not their fault, that these things happen to experienced trainers, and that there are solutions/potentials for the future that someone can guide you through.

PROVE IT & BE SPECIFIC It’s not enough to say “Boy are you going to have trouble with that dog!” Carefully explain exactly what it is that you are seeing that needs to be attended to and why someone should listen to what you have to say. (”Do you see how the corners of her mouth are retracted while she’s barking at me, and she is actually backing up as she does so? Those are often signs of fear in young dogs, and after 20 + years in the business I’ve seen so many fearful puppies become adult dogs who get into trouble when visitors come. The good news is that this is almost always a treatable problem. I have a dog right now who was just like that when he was an adolescent, and I had visitors throw treats for him every time they came over. Now he is ….” etc etc etc.)

DON’T EXAGGERATE I like the the suggestion of presenting the “best and worst case” scenario. This is an important way to be realistic, and avoid people from dismissing what you have to say. “It may turn out just fine, but I’ve seen so many dogs like this who ended up in trouble… why gamble with a dog who might be that “one in a million” dog that you talk to your grandchildren about!” It’s a tricky line, I admit–saying enough to get someone’s attention, without overstating the issue such that you lose them completely. But, then, isn’t life often about walking on those thin lines between helpful and tiresome?

CUSTOMIZE If this is a client, it is critical to customize your advice. Every case is different, and cookie-cutter solutions to even common problems often don’t work. Every client needs to feel special, because they are. Every case is different, because it is. People desperately need to feel they’ve been listened to, and that your advice is truly something that can work for them. I often start out by saying “Ideally, we’d do X and Y, but then, there’s real life (and your spouse and five kids to acknowledge).” I always ask if they think my suggestions could work for them, and pay lots of attention to body language that says one thing, and a verbal response that says another.

UNDERSTAND THAT CONTEXT IS EVERYTHING This is especially for non-trainers, because most trainers are well aware that a dog can behave one way in one context and another way in a different setting. A word to the wise: I can not tell you how many times I’ve heard clients complain that their vets won’t listen to them about their behavioral problem because the dog is so good in the clinic. Dogs can behave one way to one person, and be a different dog to someone else. They can be docile and loving at the vet clinic and a terror at home. Etc Etc. If people tell you they have a problem, then they have a problem. It may be a slightly different one than they perceive it to be, but if it’s a problem to your client, then it’s a problem. That said, kukos and body wags to all the veterinarians and vet techs out there who work so hard to educate their clients and work to prevent behavioral problems. All behaviorists and trainers send our appreciation (and our sympathy). It’s tough sometimes. Thus, the next point:

ACCEPT OUR LIMITS No matter how good any trainer, vet, behaviorist or friend, there are times that people simply aren’t going to listen to us. In many cases, it is natural to dismiss something the first time you hear it. (Don’t you do that yourself sometimes?) It’s not until the second or third time that we are ready to hear what’s being said. That’s one reason why maintaining a relationship can be so important, as well as finding a way to stay involved if it is appropriate.

And sometimes, no matter what, we’re just not going to get the response we want. We need to let it go. This isn’t easy for people who spend at least part of their lives learning how to influence and manage the behavior of another (!), but it’s a critical skill that we all need to nurture. Let it go. It’s okay. As James Herriot quoted his mentor in “All Creatures Great and Small,” “Don’t worry son, you can’t kill ‘em all.” And we can’t save ‘em all, either. Neither can vets or physicians. Let it go. Breath. Move on.

One of the ways we all do that is focus on our own animals. And so, . . .

. . . Meanwhile, back at the farm: It is still absurdly warm here, in the 50’s most days, low 30’s at night. Two years ago we had well over foot of snow by now. Does that mean I’m all caught up on the “preparing for winter chores?” Not even close. (All of you who live in warm climates might want to smile now.) There are still hoses to flush and put away, water heaters in stock tanks to check, roses to mulch, and garages to clean out. And the food! Oh my my my. This time of year there is food piling up around us like a nutritious, tasty tsunami. I have a winter share at my local CSA (Vermont Valley Community Farm), and now have enough potatoes and carrots to feed small armies. In addition, I gleaned the fields and now have 12 packages of “extra” broccoli in the freezer. This weekend I’ll be out hacking down left over brussel sprout trees, slicing the tiny cabbage-like morsels off of the stalk and then freezing them after a brief trip into boiling water.

But there’s a ram to get to my friend’s (Redford having done his job at my farm), new gates to buy for the new pens inside the barn that Jim is building, and a meditation retreat on Sunday. Oooooh, I love weekends at home!

Here’s some broccoli, cleaned and trimmed, waiting to be processed for freezing. It’s a little more mature than what you’d want to buy in a store, but it’s still yummy and nutritious.

And here’s my Lassie girl, all 15 years and 11 months of her, bringing back the dilapidated disc. It’s not a great photo, a little fuzzy, but then, it’s my old Lassie girl and I’m an absolute sop over pictures of her. especially when she’s being active and playful.

Thanks to those to of you who have commented on this issue. It is such an important one, and I value the conversation we are having. For what it’s worth, here’s what I think:

First off, I think that the most important factors related to who is qualified to treat a behavioral problem is their KNOWLEDGE and ABILITY, not their degrees or credentials. I am not dismissing the value of credentials, believe me, I busted my tail for my Ph.D. and I am very proud of it. I have tremendous respect for others with advanced credentials, and describe some of the vets that I work with as walking on water. I also add CAAB after my name with pride, just as I have tremendous respect for DVMs who are Board Certified in Behavior. But that said, who do you want helping you rehab a rescue dog who growls at visitors? Any dog trainer? Any vet? Any CAAB?  No.. you want someone who understands canine ethology, as well as operant and classical conditioning, who can read communicative signals from dogs extremely well. You want someone with experience working with dogs with behavioral problems, who can refer to a vet when necessary, and someone you can relate to (and who can relate to you), who does a good job being your coach, teacher and cheerleader all at the same time. What qualifies someone to do that? Knowledge and ability, yes? But knowledge of what, and ability to do what? Here’s some thoughts–not inclusive probably, but good enough to continue our conversation. I’ve restricted it to dogs here primarily for the sake of simplicity, but also because they are more commonly presented for behavioral problems:

MINIMAL KNOWLEDGE TO WORK WITH CANINE BEHAVIORAL PROBLEMS:

1. Canine ethology, including the influence of genetics on behavior, developmental influences (in utero, neonatal, early social development), normal social structures of dogs in different contexts, communicative signals (these need to be known in depth, such that a 10 millisecond and 2 millimeter change of a dog’s lips is clearly noticeable and meaningful to the observer), play behavior, predatory behavior, agonistic behavior. I’m sure I’ll add more to this list as I continue to think about this.  You?

2. In-depth knowledge of operant conditioning (including + and - reinforcement and punishment, when they are best used or avoided); in depth knowledge of classical conditioning, counter classical conditioning and desensitizing (and the difference between and when to use each one over the other).

3. Experience applying #’s 1 and 2 to behavior problems in dogs, ideally by first learning basic training and handling, and over time assisting with a knowledgeable, skilled and experienced mentor on simple behavioral problems, working up to more serious ones.

4. An in-depth understanding of what behavioral problems are often caused by or correlated with medical problems, including a good working knowledge of structure and function, basic physiology and what behavioral problems always require an appointment with a veterinarian.

5. An in-depth understanding of the most common diagnosis of behavioral problems, what behaviors are ’symptomatic’ of these problems, and best practices to solve them. This includes knowing what these labels  mean, how useful the labels actually are (not always) and how to help the client understand what we can and can’t know about what is motivating their dog.

MINIMAL ABILITY TO WORK WITH BEHAVIORAL PROBLEMS

1. Anyone who wants to work with dogs with behavioral problems, in my opinion, should be a good trainer, with the ability to read a dog and know what he or she is ready for (or not), knows how to use their actions, including movement and voice, to influence a dog’s behavior, can read visual signals extremely well and is able to interpret them correctly (ie, dog tongue flicks when asked to lie down). No one should ever give a client instructions about what to teach their dog, without being able to demonstrate how to do it successfully to the same dog, in the same context as the clients.

2. Consultants absolutely must have fantastic social skills with people, and be able to create a welcome and supportive environment for the client. Specialists who are great with dogs but not with people are not suited to do behavior consulting, period. There is no equivalent of surgery in behavioral treatment and rehab, in which the specialist never has to interact with the ‘patient.’ You’re either really, really good with people, or you’re in the wrong field. (Could I make it more clear how strongly I feel about this?!) The most common complaint, after 22 years, that I hear from clients is that the trainer/behaviorist/veterinarian was rude/busy/disconnected/shaming etc etc etc. I do not know this for a fact, but I believe that part of the bit of good I’ve been able to do in the world is because I like people as much as I like dogs, and I want to help them both.

3. The ability to take all the knowledge listed above and customize it for each case. Cook book solutions don’t work very often, and I’ve seen client after client who came to me after being given some handouts and some generic advice about this or that, which didn’t end up being very helpful. Being a behavioral consultant means knowing how to successfully influence the behavior of two species, and that means knowing how to present information in away that clients can use and adopt.

4. The ability to say, without hesitation, “I don’t know” and “I was wrong.” I have no respect for any professional who doesn’t know what he or she doesn’t know, and always love it when a doctor or vet says “I don’t know.” Music to my ears, and critical to being a true professional.

5. The ability to stay connected with a network of knowledgeable people, including trainers, behaviorist and veterinarians. It takes a village, that’s all I can say. I am incredibly lucky to be a community with some kick ass western vets, highly qualified Chinese Medicine vets, some great trainers, canine massage therapists, etc etc etc. I am grateful every day for being in contact with other CAABs, for connections with some fantastic Veterinary Behaviorists and for the opportunity to keep learning more every day of every week.

As I said earlier, I’m sure I’ll think of several more things to add later, but I need to get back to working on my new Play Play Play Seminar that I’m doing in California next week (write a comment if you’re coming!). I want to end by supporting what many said in their comments about the value of a team of people helping dogs and the people who love them. I agree whole-heartedly that all three fields, vet medicine, behaviorists and trainers need to do more work together to advance the field. I do not think every animal with a behavior problem needs to see a veterinarian, any more than every one who needs marriage counseling needs to get a full physical from their general practitioner. Neither do I believe–and I suspect there will be many who disagree-that GP vets should expand their knowledge base to become skilled in treating behavioral problems. Good grief, it is hard enough for them to stay up with advances in medicine. What I do think is that they should learn enough to understand the complexity of behavior, to know what they know and don’t know, and how, when and who to refer to. Board Certified Veterinary Behaviorists and CAABs are a fantastic resource for GP vets, and they would do well to work with them more often. Veterinary Behaviorists especially have so much to teach standard practice vets about psychopharmacology and behavioral medicine. Trainers and behaviorists need to reciprocate by understanding that some behavioral problems are directly or indirectly caused by medical problems, and work as closely as possible with those in veterinary medicine.

My last point is that, ever the optimist, I think it’s great that our field is progressing to the point where we are having conversations like this! I would LOVE to hear your comments about what I’ve written.. additions, deletions, objections, agreements, etc…. Don’t hesitate to join in, I think this is an important conversation.

Meanwhile, back at the farm, here’s from a walk Will, Lassie and I took Monday evening, at a friend’s beautiful farm just down the road from mine:

And here’s another one from the same walk, which might just be one of my favorite photos of Willie of all time (so far!):

Here’s a question for you, based on a column I’m writing for The Bark magazine. The editors asked if I’d write a column about “training old dogs.” (The column on training male versus female dogs will be in the next issue… stay tuned!). The question: how does your training vary (or does it?) once your dog becomes geriatric? I’ve started the column already: “Lassie doesn’t sit anymore, at least, not when asked.” I’m basing this introduction on the fact that about six months ago, my 15 year old Lassie looked at me blankly when I asked her to sit.

She’s going deaf, so I thought perhaps she didn’t hear me. I gave her our usual visual signal. Nothing. Then I lured her down with a piece of food. She looked up at my eyes and stared at me. And rather than trying any longer, I thought: “Oh, I get it. Either it hurts her to sit (she’s named Lassie for a reason after all, and basically did everything and anything anyone asked for 14 years) or she’s just simply done performing now that she’s the equivalent of a 90 year old woman. Sort of the canine equivalent of “When I am old I will wear purple.”

Here’s the thing. I treated it completely differently than if it had been Willie. Basically, although I’m still teaching Lassie some new things, which I think is good for her, I’m giving her a lot of ‘old dog’ passes. She is almost deaf, losing her sight, playful but frail and I suspect that her mind feels a little fuzzy sometimes. What do you think? Do you give your old dogs ‘passes’ too?

On the home front, it was 10 below this morning and windy. I’m going to keep this short because Lassie was so cold outside I’m not sure she even peed last time I took her out. I’m going to run home to let her out again. Thank heavens I got in and out of Washington DC between storms. It is absurd here… 10 inches Friday (totally snowed out of my office, couldn’t even think about leaving the farm), more the day after and now they’re predicting a total of another 13″ in the next two days. Geeeez. Being on the Diane Rehm show as without question the highlight of the month. I unabashedly adore her, although I realize such praise is terrifically uncool (”don’t gush” a producer said to me once). She is the best interviewer I’ve ever worked with, and the fact that she was such a supporter of my radio show is a great compliment indeed. Here’s a photo of her and her Maxie, who amused us all by playing with the toy I’d brought while we did the show.

And here’s Will, who unlike me and Lassie, seems oblivious to the cold. Ah youth!