Archive for the ‘dogs’ Tag
1. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means ANYONE can tap themselves on the shoulder with a sword and anoint themselves a; trainer, behaviorist, whisperer, dog psychologist, rehabilitator, nanny, etc.
2. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means anyone can anoint themselves as the certifier of; trainers, behaviorists, whisperers, dog psychologists, rehabilitators, nannies, etc.
3. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means there are no standard operating procedures that any of the above “professionals” needs to follow in order to have business cards printed, websites built or cash your check.
4. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means anyone can recommend the use of pinching, shocking, squirting, startling, choking, hitting, poking, kicking, rolling, etc., to end unwanted behaviors.
5. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means anyone can put treats in their pocket, spray their pants with lavender oil and call themselves a “positive-only” trainer.
6. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means that someone can handle a dog in ways that causes them pain or distress.
7. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means that should someone handle your dog in a way that causes pain and distress and there is a degradation in your dog’s behavior, they can blame you and/or the dog, you will have little to no recourse and they will have moved on to their next victim.
8. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means that people are free to ignore the evidence indicating that there is the likelihood of seeing a degradation in a dog’s behavior, including increased aggression, should they be handled in ways that cause pain and/or distress.
9. Dog training is an unregulated industry. This means that pet owners, rescue groups and shelters, are at-risk of being manipulated by misinformation presented by the unregulated.
10. Just because dog training is an unregulated industry doesn’t mean that some of us are not preparing ourselves and learning to train as though it was.
I suppose that when one has lived long enough it’s easy to slide into waxing philosophical about life, and I have definitely stepped onto that slope. Having been fortunate to have what I needed in life as far as my physical needs being met–safe home, food, medical care, etc., I have had the luxury to invest time, money and energy into the things that bring joy, add adventure and more often than not, have me looking forward to the future. As much as I appreciate the “stuff” I have in my life I am far more grateful for having discovered something that motivates me to act, to plan, to dream, to change.
Like many others I enjoy the company of dogs, feel pity, sorrow, and compassion when I see them in distress. For much of my life I felt too small and insignificant to make much difference in a world that seemed too big, busy and racing toward a variety of disasters. Comparing myself to others with more energy, education, and creativity left me feeling that I came up short. I waited for acknowledgement, affirmation and support from others, getting it enough to keep me plodding on, but not enough to make me feel completely confident in my efforts.
Years ago a friend told me that during an audience with one of her chosen gurus she was told to “find your work and do it.” I want to extend a huge THANK YOU to all the people who have made it possible for me to do the work I feel passionate about– helping people learn about the most humane and effective ways to work with fear-based behavior challenges in dogs.
Most recently I had the good fortune to travel to the islands of Puerto Rico, Culebra and Vieques with a group of passionate and committed dog trainers and enthusiasts. Like missionaries for the humane and ethical treatment of dogs we; sang songs with toddlers, colored and glittered with children, demonstrated that a dog does not have to demonstrate its intelligence by figuring out how to avoid being punished faster than other dogs, and witnessed the struggles of people on the frontlines of rescue and sheltering homeless animals. I am already looking forward to next year’s visit to continue with our work.
Theories abound on what dogs need in order to be happy and successful pet dogs. Happy may be subjective but successful means they remain in the home they find themselves. Some will suggest they need love, leadership, dominance, training, etc., and definitions of each will vary from person to person. But the one thing we know about dogs is that they are social animals who have been bred to include humans as part of their social network. Dogs may benefit from social interactions with other dogs, but they don’t survive for long if they don’t have positive social interactions with people.
For years I have been involved with rescue groups in Puerto Rico, including the islands of Vieques and Culebra. The stray dog population on these islands exists in numbers that could be considered epidemic. There are a variety of reasons why this is occurring and hard-working, devoted people are addressing them, specifically making spay/neuter programs and affordable health care more readily available to owners.
In May of this year I will be bringing a group of dog-enthusiasts to Puerto Rico to work with owners, shelter staff and rescue groups to share information about force-free and coercion-free training methods. It is my belief that if people have a better understanding of how to teach dogs new behaviors using modern training techniques it is easier for dogs to learn them. When a dog comes when called, waits when asked to, and can perform a silly trick or two to delight an owner, these dogs will remain in their homes. It is the lack of a positive relationship between a dog and owner that allows for the abandonment and neglect of dogs that is seen not only in Puerto Rico, but around the world.
Participants do not need to have any special skills or training to join us. People interested in learning more about modern dog training are welcome. Along with contributing to changing a culture’s view of their dogs we’ll also be exploring the islands’ unique and exquisite beaches and forests. I hope you can join me!
Let me know if you have any questions. Visit this webpage for more information.
I had a call recently from a concerned owner with a service dog who was becoming more and more reactive to sounds and changes in her environment. The dog was described as “timid” even on arrival into the home of her new handler. I will not address the reality that someone trained and placed a dog to be a service dog in the community who was timid and wary from the get-go. I wasn’t joking when I told the owner that he was going to be his dog’s service human.
As the conversation progressed I learned that they were located in a town where I knew there was a good trainer. A trainer who understood how animals learn, who has studied and practiced teaching new behaviors to animals, who knew how to discern between her ability to teach a behavior and an animal’s ability to learn it. This latter point is important. As trainers it’s important for us to be able to see when our own skills are lacking and not immediately assume that an animal requires more aversive techniques to be trained. Or if we do decide that we need to move up the scale and punish a dog we consider which type of punishment we will use and how it might adversely impact an animal’s behavior. I trusted this trainer to be able to do that intelligently.
My faith in humanity is always buffed up a bit when I speak with people like this fellow. He had already demonstrated compassion toward his dog and was doing some of the things I would have recommended; jollying and playing with the dog when she was afraid (as opposed to punishing her or making her deal with what was scaring her). As we were wrapping up the conversation he told me that he would do anything to help his dog and if what one trainer told him didn’t work, he’d find another. And suddenly the conversation wasn’t almost over.
I understood what he meant, and in practice changing trainers may be the best thing to do especially if a trainer has recommended the use of punishment but in this case I knew that if what my colleague advised him to do wasn’t working, he should return to her to find out why. Often when a training technique doesn’t work it’s not because the technique itself is flawed, it’s the application of it or that the process requires more time. Trainers hear it almost daily, “I’ve tried everything and nothing works,” the implication being that someone’s dog is especially recalcitrant, stupid, or aggressive (and far too often the justification for the use of training equipment designed to hurt or scare a dog). In this day and age when we can all be experts in the trivia of practically everything thanks to the non-stop availability of television shows, it’s easy to think we actually know something.
Most of our dogs do not require the subtlety of surgeons when it comes to being able to be trained to be good pets. But add fear, anxiety or phobias to a dog’s make up and the skill required to help them increases. Doing something right becomes paramount because of the risks involved with doing it wrong. To assume that a technique a professional, force-free, trainer recommends isn’t working, or working fast enough and moving on to find the next magic bullet can be a mistake.
Being willing to do what it takes to help a dog is admirable. And on that list should be knowing whose advice you are taking.
For the past two summers I’ve been staying with my mum near Cape Cod. I know that having her youngest, and least fastidious daughter come and stay along with her four dogs is a challenge for her, but it’s a trade-off she’s had to make. Despite needing to spray the couch with Febreeze every day (Sunny’s preferred sleeping spot) I think she actually enjoys having them around. There’s no need to worry about whether she’s locked the doors at night. There’s not an icicle’s chance in hell that anyone would be able to so much as walk to the door, let alone actually open it without a chorus of barking. That chorus is another issue, but it’s getting easier for the dogs to end them when asked. Having a new home for the summer requires some adjustments for them as well.
Overall it’s been good. I have been able to see the skills they’ve developed and which need more work. There are more people coming and going and not only does that require more effort on my part to manage them it actually gives me the opportunity to practice the behaviors I want with them. Both Nibbles and Annie have learned to cut down on their initial barking and Nibbles has also learned that yapping and snapping after someone who gets up or walks by is not a good choice to make. I started by using lots of treats for recalls and sits and then added in a brief time-out (about 5 seconds alone in the bathroom) for infractions. Nibbles was a quick study but Annie has a more difficult time not voicing her opinion on things. Sunny is put in a place where he feels safe and where he cannot move toward people arriving.
A time-out is a form of punishment. We take away the dog’s opportunity for reinforcement (barking is very reinforcing for many dogs) by removing them from the situation and then returning them so they have the chance to behave the way we want them to for some other form of reinforcement, in our case it’s food. It can take a few trials for the dog to figure out why they are being walked off to the bathroom (or wherever you choose to put them) so don’t get frustrated or upset when you have to repeat the process. With Annie it’s a tricky one because if left there too long she’ll start barking to be let out, and I don’t want to have to deal with getting that to stop because I’m doing this when we have guests (which is why they are barking) so I’m juggling welcoming people into my home while I’m picking up leashes and leaving the room. But I would prefer to do this rather than shout at the dogs to shut up, which can also work. One reason is that I don’t like to yell and another is that I don’t want to make the association between guests and being yelled at for my dogs. So long as they don’t bark they are welcome to stay, maybe even get a treat or two from me or a dog-loving guest.
I hadn’t planned on writing a training post this morning. I wanted to share the photo of me in my rowboat (which we’ve had since I was a kid) along with some friends. Even Sunny managed to climb in for the ride. I also wanted to invite those of you who may not know about it to like the Fearfuldogs.com Face book page. I try to post something fearful dog related there every day for education and inspiration.
I will also be traveling this fall offering full-day seminars on fear-based behaviors in dogs and the most humane and effective ways to help them.
For my friends in the northern hemisphere I hope you are enjoying your summer and the living really is easier.
I live with 4 dogs who I enjoy the company of, care greatly about and wouldn’t trade for the world. I like to think that they feel the same about me. But lately, as friends get sturdy puppies who are growing up to be confident and handsome dogs, I find myself feeling nostalgic about dogs from my past. And dreaming of dogs in my future.
Before this current group of dogs I could grab a map of local hiking trails, load up a backpack, get the dogs in the car, and head off for the day. There were no worries about what I’d do were we to run into children, men with hats, beards, and walking sticks, or other dogs. Don’t get me wrong, those dogs had their share of challenges. They barked too much at cars driving by the house, rolled in stinky, dead things, one could locate discarded baby diapers from 1/2 mile, and they stole their share of sandwiches from picnicking toddlers. But at the end of the day I could stop and visit a friend, the dogs either joining me inside or waiting contentedly in the car until I returned. Those were the days.
Now I live with dogs who require constant thought and planning. Annie barks a lot, likes to ride in the car but never settles if I leave her in it. She’s not destructive but I feel guilty returning after an hour shopping trip and finding her, front feet on the dashboard, in the same position I left her, watching for me. Nibbles is terrified riding in the car and the last time I left him for any amount of time, he vomited all over our suitcases. At home he’s always on alert, waiting for someone to jog, bike or drive by so he can charge and bark. There have been improvements in this behavior, but nothing is ever not a big deal to Nibs. Sunny can’t join the big, wide world except in very small and controlled doses. Thank goodness he’s ok in the car and doesn’t seem to mind having to wait in it when I’m gone. And then there’s Finn my border collie–my most normal dog is a border collie, if that gives you perspective.
I’m not complaining. I know that one day, all too soon, I’ll be missing those faces.
Recently I added a scanner to the array of equipment cluttering my desk. I am working on a project for the family which includes scanning old photos. It’s been fun to look at the images of the dogs I’ve lived with, and will continue to enjoy subjecting my Facebook friends to them.
Memories of each dog include a lightbulb moment or two when I learned something about them and their behavior. Samantha was a fox terrier we were given by cousins who didn’t want her. She had been relegated to life in their garage and when our dog Blackie died, we didn’t stay dog-less for long.
Home for lunch from grade school, I took Sam for a walk around the neighborhood. I dropped the leash accidentally when she pulled and off she ran. I was wearing a pair of fish net stockings (this was before the days of pantyhose). I had fashioned a garter belt out of a pair of my father’s sock garter’s and as I ran screaming after Sam the stockings and garters slid down my legs and puddled around my ankles. I was scared and angry as I ran shouting her name. I returned home in tears without her. It wasn’t long before she returned and I yelled at her for running away. She cowered and even in my pre-developed, pre-frontal cortex, there was a glimmer of what would make perfect sense to me later, and that was that she didn’t understand the specifics of why I was shouting at her. She had come back, I should have thanked her.
For my 16th birthday I was the recipient of the best gift I can image ever getting, an 8-week old puppy. It was love at first sight and I slept on a couch in the basement because my mother did not allow dogs upstairs in the bedrooms. I named her Treble and brought her with me whenever I could, including on the subway into the Boston Common where she was delighted to chase squirrels back into the trees. It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t come when I called her, she would spin on a dime mid-chase, to return to me. I knew nothing about training or positive reinforcement. All I knew about was adoration, and I think it was mutual.
When Treble died I was heart-broken and when an adolescent stray dog arrived at the summer camp where I was working it wasn’t long before he was my dog. I called him BC (he was wearing a blue collar) and unlike Treble, he had no recall and I had no idea how to teach one. Many a time I would have to sit and wait while he ran around exploring until he’d had his fill. I discovered that if I ran away from him, as though off on my own pursuit of adventure, he’d follow me. Years later when I was shown how to do this in a dog training class I smiled at the memory of BC stopping to look at me quizzically before deciding to change direction and run after me.
He also taught me about appeasement gestures, that guilty look that people think their dog is making because they understand that they misbehaved. When confronted BC would lower his head and squint, something which I found utterly charming and I could never stay angry with him for long. One day I confronted him with, “What did you do?” even though he’d done nothing, and in return he squinted. Having done nothing wrong, why behave as though he had? Something else must have been going on, and indeed it was, he was displaying behaviors designed to get me to stop scaring him. So I did.
These are just 3 of the dogs who I shared some time with on this planet. With each I have found myself wishing that I knew then what I know now. I suspect that will be true for every dog I live with, present and future.
During our daily woods walk I spied a piece of birch bark rolled up and lying on the snow. Nibbles also saw it and tentatively stretched his nose toward it for a sniff. I felt myself experience a small hit of adrenalin that often accompanies events that scare or startle me. Other than it being the same size and dimensions of a belly-up grey squirrel, and the brownish-orange colorations on the bark being sort of the same color as blood, it was most definitely a piece of birch bark. Nibbles hesitation to approach it registered in my mind and contributed to my response.
I am not afraid of squirrels, dead or alive, but the “yuck a dead thing” reaction happens regardless of how squeamish something might make me. It wasn’t that I thought it was a dead squirrel, I felt it was a dead squirrel, and there’s a difference. Had it been a dead squirrel I might have had cause for concern. Any animal that might have killed it should have eaten it or moved it off the trail. I would have to decide whether or not to let the dogs think it was Christmas. Did it die from a disease? But I didn’t have to entertain any of those questions because it was clearly a piece of birch bark.
Our brains, and our dogs’ brains, are set up so that information processed by the limbic system, the part of the brain that contains the amygdala, travels faster to the parts of our brain that think and ponder information, than happens in reverse. Had it been a dead squirrel, or something potentially dangerous to me, I was primed to react, even if that only means I would have jumped back and screamed.
How scary or upsetting something might be to us will impact the degree to which we have an emotional response. That emotional response will cause a physical response. Bodies respond to fear in different ways, they freeze, they flee or they fight. With training we get better at responding more thoughtfully when we are afraid, but it’s not easy and takes practice. Even professional actors can experience debilitating stage fright.
When a dog is repeatedly scared by the same thing, and is not given the opportunity, usually through systematic desensitization and counter conditioning, to learn to think about it differently, they are likely to continue to feel the same way about it. It’s the feeling that is going to drive the behavior that you see. When we talk about thresholds to triggers we are referring to the level of concern that allows, or doesn’t, a dog to think about what it is they are dealing with. It is up to us to determine the conditions under which our dogs are more likely to learn new responses. Wanting your dog’s response to change is not enough.
Ray Coppinger studies the world’s population of free-ranging dogs. These are the domesticated dog (as opposed to wild dogs) who are not under the reproductive control of humans. There are millions of them and they represent over 80% of the world’s population of dogs. He has looked at how dogs end up living as pets.
The most common thing that happens is that dogs adopt people. Travel in any developing country and you’re likely to see a puppy or young dog trailing behind a person, often a child. The pup survives on the scraps or offerings of the person they choose to be with. If the food or other necessity such as water or shelter is available on a regular basis, and provides an advantage over not sticking around the person, the dog has found a home.
When I was a kid my mother, having traveled to Florida, brought me home a baby alligator. The person who sold her the alligator told her that we should feed it bread. That my mother didn’t have an understanding of the needs of alligators is obvious, that the person selling her the alligator didn’t care is obvious as well. Martin the alligator (named after my brother) didn’t survive for long in his bathtub by the radiator. People also adopt dogs. One of the required conditions for any animal that is adopted by people is that they are able to survive the adoption process. Dogs for the most part, unlike alligators, have been overwhelmingly success at this.
Fearful dogs frequently do not survive the adoption process. Their needs are misunderstood, and even the most compassionate of people may not be able to meet them. The people responsible for finding homes for dogs with fear based behavior challenges need to be able to either give a dog the skills they will need to be successful as pets, or find someone who can.
Is the pet shop owner, knowing that the majority of baby alligators they are selling to tourists to bring home to their kids will not be cared for appropriately, behaving in an ethical way? If the pet shop owner is unaware of the needs of baby alligators should they be in the business of selling them? What is our responsibility for the dogs we either adopt out or bring home to live with us as pets? How can we increase the chances that a dog will not only survive the adoption process but thrive in it?