An Encounter with Ignorance

You would think staying out of the actual dog park within a public park would be enough to ensure avoiding altercations with other dogs and owners…but sadly, no. I was walking Sierra and Bodhi this past Saturday morning along one of the trails that surround our local park. There are very few people out at that hour, so I was surprised to spy a large, obese man walking his 40-something pound Akita mix off-leash on the narrow trail. They were headed directly toward us, and there wasn’t much space to maneuver.

I stopped while they were still at distance, and waited. We were in clear sight of each other, and most people in that situation will leash their dog. He didn’t. So I shouted, “Could you leash your dog, please?” He yelled back, “No, not really!” and kept walking toward us. Well, that was odd. I tried again: “Please leash your dog. It’s for his own safety.” I didn’t know how Bodhi and Sierra would react if a dog charged toward them. For all I knew, one might feel defensive and attack the dog, and the other would join in; or, Sierra would become aroused and redirect on poor Bodhi. I led them off to the shoulder of the dirt trail, had them sit, and rewarded them with treats for waiting calmly. The man finally leashed his dog. When he reached us a moment later, I said, “Thank you.”

What happened next took me completely by surprise. With a most unpleasant look on his face, the man yelled, “You need to train your dogs, you stupid bitch!”
Excuse me? Rude epithet aside, it seems to me that two dogs sitting calmly by the side of the road virtually screams, “Well trained!” But hey, what do I know.
Now perturbed, I looked directly at him and said, “There are leash laws here. Your dog needs to be on a leash. My dogs came from shelters, they used to be reactive with other dogs, and I don’t want to take a chance with your dog running up to them.”
“You’re killing them with what you’re doing!” he exclaimed. “My dog came from a shelter too. I trained him! You need to train them!” All of this flew from his mouth as he removed his dog’s leash again, having barely passed us. He then turned and added, “You stupid bitch!” in case I didn’t hear it the first time.
This is where I’d love to report that I took the high road and just walked away, but you know what they say about not taking the New York out of the girl. “You f’ing a-hole” I said (and no, there were no abbreviations involved), “Everyone at this park is going to know about you. Just keep it up.”
He answered, “F___ you, you stupid C___!” Seriously? The C word? That really crossed the line. I waited until he’d walked a bit further away. And then I called the police. I told them I wasn’t sure whether I should be calling them or animal control, and described exactly what had just happened. I gave them a full description of the guy. To be honest, I doubt they ever showed up, but it sure made me feel better to have called.

These sorts of altercations are upsetting, not to mention totally unnecessary. Look, I understand the desire to walk your dog off-leash. On those super early mornings when there’s pretty much no one around, I do it with Bodhi. But when I see another person, even at a distance, I leash him immediately. It’s not only the law, it’s respectful. Some people don’t like dogs, or are afraid of them; they shouldn’t have to be subjected to my dogs approaching them. And if the other person has dogs, I sure don’t want Bodhi running up to them. Even if Bodhi was perfectly behaved, the other dogs might not be, despite outward appearances. It’s courtesy, and it’s common sense. It’s mighty unfortunate when people have neither.

The troubling thing about the encounter, other than the risk of canine aggression and the socially inappropriate behavior from the two-legged of the pair, was the underlying belief the man seemed to hold, namely, that treat training is a terrible thing to do to dogs. Granted, I’ve never quite heard it stated in quite that extreme—that training with treats is killing a dog—but there are an awful lot of people who still believe dogs should do what we say when we say so, and that reward-based training is ridiculous and unnecessary. (Actually, I’m not positive he was refering to the treats—he might have been referring to keeping them on leash, but at the time it did seem he meant the treats.) Like so many people, he seemed to subsribe to the theory that choke chains or similar tools meant to “correct” a dog are not only the appropriate way to train, but the only way. And that those who believe differently are misinformed, or perhaps touchy-feely fools. It’s sad, not only for the level of ignorance, but mostly, for the poor dog.

I know I’m not the only one who’s had this sort of encounter. It’s easy to become disheartened, but it’s also helpful to remember that for every disgruntled, unbalanced, misinformed person who refuses to play nice with others, there are five pleasant, dedicated dog parents who respect the rules and each other. Here’s to hoping the balance shifts even further to the positive.

The Pressure Gauge

Have you ever slacked off on diet or exercise for a week or two? Well, you know what happens. It’s the same with behavior modification practice with dogs. After teaching a weekend seminar in southern CA and then attending a 4-day seminar in Houston, I’d been off morning park duty for at least a week. My husband had taken the dogs out once while I was gone, which was nice, but it wasn’t the type of walk where anyone with four legs got any feedback on how to act around other dogs.

This morning, after Sierra and I made our usual loop around the short hiking trail at the park, we came down the final hill, which runs alongside a house with a yard. This yard is often inhabited by a German Shepherd who takes his job seriously. Sierra anticipates the possible encounter and becomes hyper-alert, so I’ve taught her that on that final descent (yeesh, can you tell I’ve been flying too much?), her job is to walk by my side and ignore anything that’s black and tan and raising hell. She’s been doing well, but this morning when I went to reward her with a treat for sticking by my side, I got an unpleasant surprise. It was a sharp, intense pain on one of my fingernails. She’d taken the treat, allright, but clamped down very hard when she took it. Her aim was a bit off, too.

Fortunately, I understood that taking treats with that sort of forceful gusto can actually be a sign of stress. Here Sierra was, trying to keep it together and do what I’d taught her, but her arousal level was so high that she literally couldn’t help herself. Of course, her arousal level wouldn’t have gotten that high had she been thinking about what she was supposed to do, rather than spiraling out of control emotionally.

The force with which a dog takes treats can be a good indicator of their stress levels. Not only will a dog grab a treat out of over-arousal as in Sierra’s case, but it can happen when a dog is afraid of the person holding the yummy treats. Many people try to lure a fearful dog to them, assuming that treats will create a good association. But if the dog’s desire for the treat outweighs the fear, at least temporarily, the result is often a dog who stretches forward with the muzzle and front of the body (the back legs are waaay back), snatches the treat roughly, and retreats.

Even when doing targeting (having the dog touch their nose to your hand), the force with which the dog jabs the nose at the hand is a good indicator of stress levels. Every dog comes with a built-in pressure gauge in the form of their mouth. Smart humans notice and make use of it.

Are You Always YOU?

“You just don’t seem like yourself today.” Has anyone ever told you that? Or maybe a friend did something that caused you to think, “Wow, that’s so not like her!” It happens to most of us. It stands to reason that those who know us best form an idea of our personality based on our normal, everyday behavior. But sometimes—inevitably, because we’re human—we act in ways that are incongruous with that persona. That’s when others become surprised.

Now think about your dog. What characteristics describe him or her? Is Dodger a very serious dog? Is Roxy silly and light-hearted? Maybe Lili is a love bug, or Ace is aloof. Most owners can describe their dog’s basic temperament, and also have a concept of how their dog acts in response to them or to other dogs, people, and situations. An attentive owner might note that Dancer tends to shy away when other dogs greet her, or that Banjo will only come when called when there are no distractions around. But just as you don’t always seem like yourself, doesn’t it stand to reason that dogs, being living beings as opposed to kitchen sinks, would also have times when they’re just not them?

I’ve worked long and hard with Bodhi on his recall. We started in safe, enclosed areas, then worked out and about on a long line and, finally, in safe but not so enclosed areas. This past week as we hiked along a trail at the local park, Bodhi spotted a rabbit in the bushes. He took off after it. While he was in mid-chase, I called his name. He paused for a fraction of a second. I called, “Come!” in the same tone of voice I’d used during our practice sessions. Know what? He came flying back to me. From chasing a rabbit! Wow! I was thrilled. But did that make me think that from now on, under all circumstances, Bodhi would recall off something he was chasing? Oh, no. Not by a long shot. Even if that became the norm, I wouldn’t expect that he’d do it each and every time. Okay, this skirts around the edges of what I’m getting at, but maybe it’s not the perfect example. It did, though, give me a chance to brag on Bodhi! But let me try again.

Let’s say your dog is fairly aloof around other dogs. You take him to the dog park regularly, where he mostly keeps to himself, walks around the perimeter, sniffs, and raises his legs on places others have left p-mail. When other dogs approach, he allows them to sniff, now and then sniffing in return, and then walks away. He doesn’t fight but he’s not interested in playing. Then one day, an adolescent male approaches him. The dog clearly wants to play. Your dog, as usual, isn’t interested. But when the dog persists, instead of walking away, your dog growls a stern warning. He advances a few steps and the other dog, looking confused, retreats. Wow, you think, what was that? That’s just not like him!

Maybe the incongruity isn’t a behavior around other dogs. Maybe it’s the way your dog responds to a command, or whether she allows you to brush her without complaint. There’s the “normal” way things go, but this time, something is different. It’s important to rule out medical issues whenever a dog seems “off” in certain ways, of course. But it’s also important to not to jump to conclusions when behavior doesn’t conform to the norm. At the dog park, it could be that the adolescent was pushier than most, and simply pushed your dog to his limit. Or, maybe your dog wasn’t feeling that well that day. But it could also be that your dog was just having an “off” day.

Do you believe that dogs have off days, too? I do. I haven’t seen any research on the subject, and I can’t imagine how it would be possible to construct a study. But life is a study, and if we’re paying attention, we notice these things. So maybe your dog, who normally responds beautifully during training, isn’t doing what you’d like. What do you do? Punish her? No! You should try to figure out the reason for the lack of compliance, of course. Is there a distraction you didn’t notice but she did? Is she coming into heat? Is he more tired out than usual because of the impromptu play session with the neighbor’s dog that morning? But again, it might be none of those things.

When your dog acts unlike his or her usual self, if it’s a serious change like sudden aggression, schedule a vet exam and an appointment with a behavior specialist. But if it’s less serious, when none of the factors causing the change are apparent and you’re becoming frustrated, consider whether your dog just might not being herself that day, and try again the next. Let’s cut our dogs some slack. They’re not trying to blow us off, and they haven’t suddenly morphed into some other dog entirely. So be patient. Just as our friends are happy when we’re back to our normal selves, you’ll soon be relieved to find that your dog is, too.

From Learned Helplessness to Learned Joyfulness

A while back, I watched an episode of Our America where Lisa Ling was exploring the world of underaged prostitution. The eleven- to sixteen-year-old girls were mostly runaways who were “rescued” from the streets and then sent out to turn tricks by men who, for all intents and purposes, held them hostage. When some of the girls tried to leave, they were beaten and intimidated, to the point that they never tried it again. Naturally, this was terrible to see. But with my mind never being far from dogs, I also started thinking about dogs who develop that same attitude of learned helplessness.

Many dogs come into the world with an open and trusting attitude, only to have an experience or series of experiences that cause them to become suspicious of people. Maybe someone is heavy-handed when doling out punishment; or, perhaps the owner is unpredictable from the dog’s point of view, and lashes out in anger. The dog becomes wary of the owner, and develops a fear of doing the wrong thing. The dog is now afraid to offer any sort of behavior, or even to respond when asked to do something, for fear that their repsonse will be wrong and they’ll be punished. When we adopted Sierra from the shelter, she demonstrated some disturbing behavior during our first training sessions. Although my hand signal for “stay” was small and gentle, when I put my hand up, her ears went back and her eyes got squinty. She wouldn’t move. In short, she seemed afraid to do anything at all.

I had a client once who told me that their dog Ranger was very much afraid of her husband, but that when the husband had Ranger on leash, the dog was very calm. A brief observation of the relationship between the two, and seeing what happened when Ranger was leashed, told a different story. Ranger had learned that once that leash was on, there was nowhere to go. So he shut down. To the untrained eye, it’s easy to see how a dog might appear calm, when in reality the dog is simply resigned that there’s no way out.

A friend who is also an excellent trainer told me about a workshop she attended. It was an e-collar (shock collar) seminar, and to her credit, although she doesn’t use e-collars, she wanted to understand more about where trainers who use them are coming from. She had heard many people rave about how this particular presenter was able to get dogs who were wild and crazy to behave in no time. Unfortunately, it was just as she’d suspected; the dogs appeared “improved” or “calm” alright, but that’s because they were afraid to do anything for fear of being shocked! There’s a definite difference between a dog whose body language says, “Okay, I get it, you don’t want me to do that” and still looks bright and happy, and one whose light has been extinguished. The latter is unutterably sad to witness.

So what can we do about dogs who already have a sense of learned helplessness? Well, we take it slow and don’t push them in training or in other areas of life. We learn to read and respect their body language. And, if you think about it, what’s the opposite of learned helplessness? Offering behaviors! How do we get dogs to offer behaviors? We teach them the principals of clicker training (with or without an actual clicker), which uses markers and rewards to encourage the dog to offer behaviors. I can tell you that Sierra has gone from a shut down, wary rescue dog to one who will happily offer spins, bows, and a number of other behaviors when she sees the Holy Treat Bag make an appearance.

Bottom line, there is most definitely hope for these dogs. We just need to be able to recognize the symptoms, and work with the behavior accordingly to change learned helplessness into learned joyfulness.

Leadership: One Size Does Not Fit All

Flip through the pages of any traditional book on dog behavior, and you’re likely to find advice about how to be the “boss” or “alpha”—the Big Kahuna. Never feed your dog before you sit down to your own meal. Make sure you go through doorways first. Don’t ever walk around your dog. Never let your dog up on places you sit, like your couch or bed. You might be surprised to know that I couldn’t care less about any of those rules.

Many trainers advise owners to employ some version of a leadership program, meaning the dog has to earn things in their everyday lives. There’s nothing wrong with that, and although I have long advised clients to employ some manner of a learn to earn program, especially if their dogs are overly pushy, I’m not one to be overly strict in that regard with my own dogs. Don’t get me wrong; I firmly believe you should be able to ask your dog to move aside, get off the couch, and do any number of other things when asked. It makes sense to me personally to have my dogs sit before meals, especially because Bodhi can be physically pushy and impatient. It’s a good thing for him to practice waiting, and for me not to spill the food all over the place! When I take my dogs out for a walk, they both need to sit and wait at the door while I open the door, look out on the porch, and then back to them to give the release word. During the summers, rattlesnakes have been known to slither up on to our porch; this is not only a manners issue for us, but a safety one, too.

But what about the other aspects of a traditional leadership program? My dogs are allowed up on our couches—that is, when the couches are covered by the colorful blankets we use to keep them dog hair free. (Well, mostly—is anything ever really dog hair free?) If one of my dogs is lying across a doorway, depending on whether they’re in deep sleep, how convenient it is for me to step over them, and whether they’ve been extra pushy lately, I might just let them sleep or lie there, or I might ask them verbally to move out of the way. As for who eats first, I once heard from someone who owned a wolfdog that he always spit in the dog’s dish before he put the food down, so the dog would know who was boss. I can only wonder what the dog actually thought. My dogs eat somewhere in the neighborhood of the same two times during the day, but if I have something pressing to do, they may have to wait. Learning frustration tolerance is a good thing, and hey, if I’m controlling all the good stuff, I obviously am in charge, without having to be heavy-handed about it.

I once heard someone (I believe it was English behaviorist John Rogerson), say that the specific rules aren’t as important as the fact that there are rules. I wholeheartedly agree. Take a moment to think about whether the rules that you’ve learned “must” be taught actually make sense for you and your own dogs. Now think about the rules you have that might not be important for someone else. When it comes to leadership, one size does not fit all.   

Internal Injuries

I recently received a training inquiry from a woman with a four-month-old toy poodle. During our chat, she mentioned that she was expecting some friends to visit the following week. Although they wouldn’t be staying with her, they would be spending a lot of time at her home—them and their four adult teacup Yorkies, that is. When I asked whether she knew whether the Yorkies were friendly toward unfamiliar dogs, she seemed surprised. Her response was along the lines of, “Why would I worry? She’s much bigger than they are.” A conversation about size, aggression, management, and introducing dogs ensued.

That woman is far from being alone in her beliefs. There are many people who assume that if their dog is larger, damage couldn’t possibly be suffered. Nothing could be further from the truth. In the Yorkies scenario, four on one is not good odds; but even in a one on one situation, depending on the breed and temperament of the dogs, a smaller dog could certainly physically injure a larger one.

The bigger issue, though, is that injury doesn’t just happen to the physical body. As anyone who has been attacked physically can attest, the emotional scars linger long after the physical ones disappear. It’s the same with dogs. A dog who starts out with a stable, trusting temperament can easily become fear-reactive toward other dogs. Whether that shift takes one encounter or five, and how intense of an encounter, depends on the particular dog. Some puppies can have one unfortunate incident and their attitude is forever changed. There is a desperate need for owners to be made aware of this fact. So many take very young puppies to dog parks, unaware of how much harm can be caused on both physical and emotional levels. I would even argue that dogs who are taken to the dog park when they clearly don’t want to be there, who are forced to be in a contained area with beings who scare them, are suffering some level of emotional damage each and every time.

When we expose dogs to others as play partners or even just hanging out buddies, we must consider temperament as well as size, and monitor stress signals closely. If the worst happens, even if the larger dog doesn’t suffer much physical trauma, emotional trauma can sometimes do more, and more lasting, harm.

By the way, on the topic of body language, I’ll be premiering a brand new seminar “Talk to the Paw! Understanding What Dogs are Really Saying–and What We’re Saying to Them” in Burbank on April 7. Earlybird reg. ends March 6. Check it out here.

Studying Fear–and Dog Owners

A new study has come out about dogs’ fear responses to noise; well, that’s what the headline says, but as it turns out, the study is more about owner’s recognition of their dog’s fears of certain sounds. The study was conducted through surveys and interviews. Almost half of the interviewees said their dog displayed at least one typical sign of fear when exposed to fireworks, thunder, or gunshots. But only a quarter of those same people reported their dogs as being “fearful” of noises. So where’s the disconnect?

Owners recognized the more obvious signs of vocalization, trembling, hiding, and seeking out people. It’s suggested that these signals are more easily recognized because they are also seen in frightened humans. The more subtle signs of decreased activity and salivation were seemingly not as easily recognized. And urination or destruction were likely to be seen as nuisance behaviors rather than signs of fear.

I doubt it surprises any professional trainer that owners can be ignorant of their dogs’ emotional states. Some owners don’t even seem to pay attention to what their dog is doing, never mind feeling. It always shocks me to see the extent to which some owners ignore their dogs in public. I’ve been at crowded events where there’s plenty of foot traffic from people and dogs, and owners are checking out merchandise or chatting with each other as their dogs, on Flexi-style leads, roam around and all but get trampled by passersby, or attacked by other dogs. I’ve been at dog parks where owners stand around chatting and drinking their lattes, oblivious to the fact that Fluffy is being bullied by three other dogs, or that Ranger is on the verge of getting into a fight. And we expect them to notice subtle signs of stress?

I truly and deeply wish that the topic of canine body language, including fearful displays, was part of our school system’s early education curriculum. With so many homes having dogs, how is it possible that there is so little early education on understanding them? If we learn to recognize when a dog is afraid, we will not mistake it for being a “bad” dog, or in the case of fear-based reactivity, an aggressive dog. If we know when a dog is scared, we can help them to overcome those fears. And early education on when a dog is afraid would certainly lower the number of dog bites to children.

The reporting article says that “…less than a third of owners currently seek professional advice about treatment for their pet’s fear.” I’m sure more seek help when that fear turns into fear-based reactivity, more frequently reported as aggression. The article concludes by saying, “there is a need for veterinary surgeons to increase awareness among the general dog owning public that treatment is both available and effective in dealing with fears of loud noises, and to direct them toward appropriate sources of help.” Having received feedback from many owners who were helped by my Help for Your Fearful Dog book and Working with Fearful Dogs Seminar DVD, I couldn’t agree more. It’s up to those of us in the profession of dog training and behavior to educate owners about fearful behavior in their dogs, and to give them the tools and techniques to help. Suffering from fear is a terrible and debilitating thing. Whether we are professional trainers or simply dog enthusiasts who are awake and aware, we should all try to educate owners about what fear looks like in their dogs, and to spread the word that help is available.