THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

Pippy Tay didn’t look much like a purebred Border Collie; I’d bet money that most shelters would have described her as a BC/Labrador cross. She was big, almost 60 pounds, as long as a table, and had a large, square head that had Labrador written all over it.

But she was a Border Collie, the daughter of one of the top trial dogs in the country, and she had an outrun around sheep to break your heart. Early in her training I visited a handler’s farm in Iowa, to get a lesson and work her in a new area. Unlike my little farm, the land was perfect for long outruns, where you could send your dog from the top of a rise, watch them run a semi-circle through a sweeping valley below, and gather the sheep from as far away as you wanted. We trudged to the top of the hill, and Doug said: “Go ahead, send her after those sheep.”

What?! The small flock was at least 300 yards away. Pippy had never done an outrun longer than 75 yards. The difference is huge, bigger than you can imagine until you stand in one spot and watch your dog get smaller and smaller, disappearing into the size of a dark pencil point, running a semi-circle to get behind a fuzzy fluff of sheep. I said as much, not wanting to set Pip up to fail, but Doug encouraged me, said “Go ahead, just give it a try. What could happen?”

“Come Bye” I whispered, and Pippy was gone, ten yards away before I could even register her movement. We watched her streak down the face of the hill, widen out as she got within a hundred yards of the sheep, and circle behind them, far enough away to avoid disturbing them until she found the perfect balance point to control the sheep. She stopped, collected the flock (“the lift”) and walked them in a perfect line back to me. It was a perfect outrun, a glorious outrun, an outrun you’d expect of a older, wiser dog. It was a perfect fetch, slow and quiet and perfectly timed. I didn’t do much of anything, except stand in place, jaw open, heart swelling, blown away by my young dog and her ability. Doug didn’t say much, maybe “Wow.” I think he paid me the best compliment you’ll ever hear from a professional handler. “What did you say the breeding was on that dog?”

A year later, Pip and I were competing in a trial in Illinois, when the sheep took one look at her, turned to face her, ducked their heads like cartoon animals and attacked her. She was literally chased across the field, the audience howling derision in the stands. I truly believe she understood, if not that others were laughing at her, at least that she had been beaten by the sheep. I called her off, and she and I walked, heads hanging, off the field together. That night, I made her a promise to never, ever do that to her again.

The truth is, Pip was never meant to work difficult sheep or compete in trials. Her perfect outruns were a curse to us both, because they overshadowed her lack of power, her fear of being hurt and her total dislike of confrontations. For over a year I tried to make her something she wasn’t, and I still feel a pang of guilt when I remember how fearful she’d be when sheep turned to confront her.

But Pippy turned into one of the most valuable dogs I’ve ever had. Her gentle nature and distaste of confrontation became one of my greatest professional assets. For over ten years Pip worked dog-dog aggression cases with me. She was invaluable and unflappable. She’d lay down 20 yards away from defensively aggressive dogs, and slowly and gradually, reading them perfectly, she’d inch her way toward them. Within minutes they’d be licking her muzzle, or play bowing and tearing around the pen with her, their owners with tears in their eyes because their dog had never played with another before.

Pip taught me so much, and was such a help when I’d work with clients who wanted to compete in agility, but had dogs who hated crowds, or wanted their dogs to visit nursing homes, when the dogs were shy and afraid of strangers. Oh yes yes, training and conditioning can do so much, but it’s so important to know who are dogs are, what they are capable of, and what they are not. It’s the difference between swimming upstream, or down. I’m sure this has happened to many of you: I’d love to hear your stories.

If you want to see one of the best examples of this I’ve ever seen, go to the link below. It was sent by one of our colleagues in the comments section of the last blog (thank you Pike!). If you don’t get an oxytocin rush from watching it, I suggest therapy. . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGODurRfVv4

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Zero degrees (Farenheit) today. Brrrr. We missed the last 16 inch snow storm that hit Minnesota, but got it as rain instead. That’s not so great…. rain on top of lots of snow turns it into ice when it gets cold again, so there’s a hard layer of ice on top of everything. It’s thick enough to keep Lassie from breaking through for about 9 out of every 10 steps. Then she sinks down to her pink, naked belly (shaved from a recent ultrasound, things aren’t quite right in the liver department) but forges ahead, preferring into come up the hill with us rather than be left home alone.

Here’s my Pippy Tay, bless her heart. I lost her about 2 1/2 years ago (could it really have been that long?)

May all of us savor what we have, and not let what we don’t have interfere with our gratitude.

May all of our dogs, cats, horses, birds, ferrets, rabbits, sheep, cows (etc) live the best life they can, secure in knowledge of how much we love them.

May the people who abuse animals, whether through fear or ignorance, learn the joy of a relationship built on kindness and understanding.

May the four pounds I’ve put on in the last few days melt away, somehow, magically, whilst I continue to savor the joys of consumption.

Wishing you love, relaxation and oxytocin-filled contentment over the holidays. I’ll be back posting next week.

Here are a few scenes from the farm, inside and out: (anyone for a picnic on the picnic table?)

xx

Trainers and behaviorists can all tell stories about the calls they get around the holidays. Those of you who are trainers can no doubt tell some of your own. (I’d love to hear them!) Not uncommonly, we hear “Aunt Polly is coming tomorrow and she hates dogs and I have seven of them and they’ve never been alone in a room or in a crate and I can’t board them and I was wondering if you could tell me what to do.” (Answer: Pack dogs into car, drive elsewhere, leave note on front door for Aunt Polly that you’ve been abducted by aliens?)

From the other side of the equation, I’ve heard lots of dog lovers struggle over what to do when company comes and their dog doesn’t do well with visitors. One holiday season, years ago, I had five “do I have to kill my dog cases?,” all serious bites to visitors, on December 23rd and 24th. So sad.

Here’s my generic advice about holidays and dogs and visitors. I’d love to hear what solutions you’ve come up with for yourself or advised for others.

1. Do you REALLY want to take your dog to the big family gathering? How fun is it really going to be when you discover that your nephew is allergic to dogs, or your sister-in-law brought a dog-hating cat, or your uncle brought his three Rat Terriers, all of whom are xxx (insert interesting behavioral issue here.) For everyone’s sake, seriously consider leaving your dog at home, either in a great kennel or with a great dog sitter. This could be a blessing to your dog, to you, or to the rest of your family. (I still blush about bringing my St. Bernard to someone’s house when I was young and stupid. It was so hot in the room we slept in that Cosby, the Saint, panted and drooled so heavily I finally opened a window to cool it off. We woke up in the morning to find their prized house plants dead. Our dog-disliking hostess literally began to shriek, eyes squinched shut, hands clenched, jumping up and down like a five-year old. I still feel badly. Whoever and wherever you are–I’m sorry I killed your fern!)

My line? “Dog Sitters. Don’t leave home without them.” Of course, in some cases bringing your dog just adds to the fun, and if that’s the case, then Eeeeeh Hah, bring ‘em on. But if you’re not sure, then discretion is the better part of valor.

2. If visitors are coming to you, do what most professionals do, and thank the heavens for dog crates and X-pens. It seems to be the pro’s who are most likely to put their dogs away to prevent problems, rather than crossing their fingers and saying “I think it’ll be okay…”. Anytime I hear myself asking that question, I know to change my tune and do whatever I need to do to know that it’ll be okay. I even put Willie in his crate for the first hour of Lassie’s birthday party, so that she could get all the attention.

I never hesitate to err on the side of caution if there is even the slightest chance of trouble between a dog and a visitor. Most trainers and behaviorists don’t either; nothing like years of hearing about serious bites and traumas related to dogs and visitors to condition us to be conservative. Kids coming over and not 110% sure about how they’ll behave around your dog, or vice versa? Then start with your dog elsewhere, meet the kids and then decide how they’ll interact. Uncle Johnny, all 6 foot 7 of him driving in from down south? And you with a dog who is uncomfortable around unfamiliar men? Aren’t you glad you crate-trained your dog?

In general:

Start carefully (dog in crate when visitors enter?),

Observe carefully (watch interactions like a hawk at first),

Manage obsessively (know your dog and minimize the potential of any problems),

Give everyone a break (why not crate Fido up after an hour with the guests? why wait until after he’s tired?) Note that MANY of the cases I’ve seen have occured after the dog has been with the ‘kids’ or company all day, is tired and finally snaps/bites at the end of the day. Being an introvert (truly), I can sympathize. I love company and being with people, but I get tired after hours of it and need to go to my crate so that I don’t get cranky and bite someone.

This probably sounds excessive, but a dear dear friend just had his beloved dog bite a guest (equally beloved) during Thanksgiving dinner. “Why didn’t I put her in her crate?” he asked, after the bite and the trauma. “Because you’re an optimist and not a prof’l trainer” I said, but in the future, management is going to have to be Job #1 in his treatment plan. This kind of management becomes second nature to trainers, doesn’t it? But we had to learn it, and anything we can do to let people know that it’s OKAY to separate dogs and guests sometimes, the better.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: 4 days off coming up! Whoo Hoo! I’m officially ‘off the grid’ from early Thursday (12/17) morning to late Sunday night (12/20). Not letting myself check email or internet, but back first thing Monday morning. I look forward to reading all your comments.

Bitter cold again, below zero this morning and windy. Brrrrrr. Willie’s paws can’t all stay on the ground at once, he has to lift one at a time when we play outside. Lassie either pees and poops just inches from the door, or I run her to the barn, where she can potty in the straw on the floor and stay off of the snow and ice. But she still doesn’t stay out much longer than 5 minutes at a time.

The cold sure drives the birds to our feeders. I counted 47 birds of 12 species at the feeders yesterday morning. Here’s one of my favorites: A Red-Bellied Woodpecker (I know, I know, I didn’t name it! There is a flush of red on its belly, and there’s already a Red-Headed Woodpecker, thus the name that doesn’t seem to fit!)

I’ve finished Made for Each Other, and do indeed recommend it for people who are interested in animal behavior in general, and specifically the biology behind the relationship we have with domestic animals. It’s primary focus, as the title of this blog suggests, is the power of oxytocin and its role in initiating and maintaining our interest, attraction to and bond with other animals. As an addict of hugging friends and stroking doggy bellies and kitty ears, I loved learning even more about my favorite drug. Our levels of oxytocin double while we are petting our dogs, so I hereby consider lying on the living room floor and rubbing Willie’s belly as “working out.”

The benefits of oxytocin on our health are little short of astounding:

* An enhanced immune system

* A decrease in the perception of pain

* An increase in the speed of healing

* A decrease in the activation of the stress-related HPA circuit, resulting in a lower production of cortisol

* A decrease in the activation of aggressive vasopressin-related behavior

* An enhanced ability to read the facial expressions of others (no kidding!)

There’s more, but you get the idea. Lesson One: Add “pet your dog” to “eat your vegetables” and “get more exercise.” Okay, this is not news to most of us, but if you love learning the biology that explains why so many of us are stupid in love with our dogs, it’s interesting stuff. It also makes me wonder if we can’t administer oxytocin to ameliorate some behavioral problems. Would love to hear from some vets and physiologists on this . . . I’ve read of several research projects in which oxytocin was injected or absorbed through nasal tissue. Of course, oxytocin has many other functions (uterine contractions for one) so maybe long term administration not a good idea? ???

I’ll admit I don’t buy everything the author, Meg Daley Olmert, argues. Her section on the beginning of domestication and the interplay between oxytocin and our relationship with wild animals was a bit of a stretch. There are a few things stated as factual that don’t hold up (“Cows crying tears?” As in, when they’re sad? Hmmm, probably not), but overall it’s a great read IF you want to learn more about the biology behind our relationship with all domestic animals (not just companion animals).

My favorite part of the book is about what’s called “ideomotor action.” You may not have heard that phrase before, but if you have a dog, you know the phenomenon, honest you do. Think about the times that you swear your dog is reading your mind, because he jumped up and ran to the door BEFORE you got up and picked up his leash. Or the times that just thinking about something seemed to cause it to happen. Well, it’s not ouija board crazy: “ideomotor action” describes the fact that long seconds before you consciously decide to do something, say get up off the couch, your brain has begun doing it. fMRI recordings of brain wave activity show activity in motor neurons sometimes as much as seven seconds before an individual is conscious of wanting to get up.

Ever met people so good with animals that they seem to be able to read their minds, just as our dogs sometimes seem to be reading ours? It turns out that long before we consciously think about an action, our brain has talked to the relevant muscles, and the muscles have already been to react. Of course, conscious thoughts have the same effect: just imagining getting off the couch causes the relevant muscles to contract. Brilliant observers, (like our dogs), can probably take note of those changes, miniscule though they may be. (And by the way, this is exactly how Ouija boards are believed to work . . . the subject may have no conscious thoughts of an “answer” but their unconscious has something to say.)

All the more reason to take the old advice of “imagine what you want your dog/horse to do as you ask them to do it.” Magically effective? No . . . my brain would explode if I tried to “imagine” Willie out of herding the cat. But, as one of many factors? Yes yes yes. It definitely deserves our attention, and supports using positive reinforcement in training, since it forces us to concentrate what we do want and not what we don’t. Think about it. I’d love to hear your experiences in this regard.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: It’s warmer now, though that’s not always a good thing. Got freezing rain last night so that the snow is now coated in a layer of ice. If it doesn’t melt before it gets cold again, that layer of ice is hard on just about everyone. Scrapes your and your dog’s legs when you sink into the snow and try to walk through, keeps raptors from feeding on their prey under the snow, etc etc. But it’s pretty warm (30 degrees!), so maybe it’ll all melt before the bitter cold comes back in a few days.

After four days without TV or internet at home, it was lovely to get it back. The snow and ice is finally off the two dishes (in one case, that’s due to Jim and his manly wielding of my hair dryer whilst balancing on the roof).

Best news is Willie and Sushi: things are good. Really good. (Cross paws, knock on wood, pray to goddesses of ethology and learning theory). The program now, most successful of all, is a combination of positive reinforcement and positive punishment: If Willie does anything even close to “stalking” Sushi, he is asked to Sit and Stay for 3-6 seconds. Any time Willie is in the presence of Sushi and does not stalk or focus on her, he gets praise and a food treat. I’m afraid to write much more, lest I curse myself and the entire project, but if it maintains for at least three more weeks, I’ll write more about why I think it’s working (and more importantly, why the other attempts did not.)

Next post is about pets and holidays, or “Where’s the dog? Here comes Aunt Polly!”

Here’s Mr. Will now, frolicking in the snow:

Thanks to all the kind readers who sent their best wishes to Lassie. Good news: she seems fine. I’m hoping it was just one of those “dietary indiscretions” that come and go into all of our lives. Fed her tiny meals, low fat, gave her Pepsid as instruction by Dr. John for acid stomach (common if kidney problems). I am taking her in to the clinic though next week, just to get a chem panel and check on her kidney function. Assume all is well if you don’t hear anything, no news being good news and all. Ah these old dogs. Thanks for your stories about your own, I love hearing them.

Speaking of news, I promised my staff I’d say something about the Professional Trainer Special we have on right now for people who use the Family Friendly Dog Training book for classes or clients. I don’t like to mix the “making a living” part of my life with the blog, but I have been gently reminded that there really are people out there who would like to know about an “end of the year” special. And our Email Alert Newsletter-y thing is on the fritz, so okay, good Trisha, I’m doing it: If you buy 10 Family Friendly at the usual half price for 10 or more, you can get 10 behavior booklets free. Check out the Professional Corner on the website. Whew. I did it. Good girl.

I’m halfway through Made for Each Other, will post a full review on the next blog. Very interesting stuff… I have kudos and a few complaints, but will write details when all done. Would love to hear your thoughts if you’ve read it.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Yesterday was a good day to read (and write). 16 inches of snow in 24 hours, fat, wet, heavy frosting-like stuff that coated the satellite dishes that connect my little farm to the world. No TV, no internet, no email. But hey, the phone worked and most importantly, I didn’t lose power. That was huge to me, because I could spend the day writing. I’m working on a chapter for a book from NIH about children and dogs, due next week. Eeeeps! Also rewriting the Puppy Primer, so the terminal at my computer was smoking.

Spent the day writing, reading, wrapping Christmas presents, talking on the phone. Heard about the 23 inches of snow in Flagstaff in a phone call with CAAB, CPDT Karen London. Snow shoe-ed up the hill with Willie. (Much too hard for Lassie girl.) Stomped down paths to the barn and bird feeders with snow shoes, after an unsuccessful attempt to get new snow blower carving through the snow (too much, too heavy). They’ll be lots of shoveling tonight, is still awfully hard to get around.

2 below this morning. Windy. Too cold for Lassie, she pees in the snow one foot from the edge of the garage door. Took some photos yesterday, before the bitter cold settled in: Here’s the scene from my front door.

Gotta love those red barns. And to think my barn was almost torn down, before I bought the farm. Granted, if I told you how much I’ve spent on keeping the barn standing I’d have to shoot you, but lordy I love my barn!

I‘m a little late to the party here, (not Lassie’s party! More on that below.) but I am loving Meg Daley Olmert’s book, Made for Each Other: The Biology of the Human-Animal Bond. I’m not all that far along yet, but early on I was asking myself why in heaven’s name this book has been sitting on my bed side table without being picked up. It should be no surprise that I’d love a book that combines research on behavior specific to our relationship with dogs, but the value added kicker is that she’s such a good writer.

In the second chapter she talks a lot about oxytocin and its role in social bonding. This is something I have talked about quite a bit, both in For the Love of a Dog, this blog and in my UW course on Human-Animal Relationships. Still, I learned some new things that I just love knowing (the role of vasopressin for ex), and I wish I could cancel the day and spend it in bed reading this book. I’ll write more about it soon. I’d love to hear from those of you who have read it already.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Lassie’s birthday party was a heaping dog bowl of fun! Lots of wonderful people came and saturated Lassie with admiration and belly rubs and presents (bad people! all told not to bring presents!). Willie stayed quiet as a mouse in his crate for over an hour as person after person entered the house so that Lassie could get all the attention. He was so polite. . . that made up for at least a week’s worth of cat obsession! (Question…. anyone who has had mice in their house will attest that they aren’t so darned quiet. Where the heck did that expression come from?)

Here are just some of the cookies that Jim made and he and I decorated for Lassie’s party. Everyone went home with some (does the person who took home the “Lassie” cookie have extra good luck in 2010?).

And here are the wonderful health care professionals who have made Lassie’s life so long and rich. I am sure that she wouldn’t be alive, much less happy and healthy, without them.

From left to right, top row: Dr. Jody Bearman of AnShen Veterinary Acupuncture, yours truly, Dr. Mark McCaan (Lassie’s Chiropractor), who she sees at Middleton Veterinary Hospital and Dr. John Dally of Spring Green Animal Hospital.

Bottom row: The Lassie girl herself, looking far less pleased about being taken out in the cold and told to stay still for heaven’s sake. And, of course, Willie boy, who is always happy to get attention.

Last update: The part above about Lassie was written yesterday to get a jump on the post. How quickly things change. I was up much of last night with Lassie, who woke me up by throwing up at 3 am. She also urinated in the house during the afternoon… suspect her bladder infection is back. Cutting this post short to check on her, talk to vet, etc. . . . the beat goes on. You’ve all been there, I know. Huge snow storm is making things extra interesting.

Thanks to all of you who commented on the saga of Willie and Sushi. (And for those of you who haven’t read the last post, my biggest training/behavior challenge at the moment is Willie’s obsessive herding/stalking of my cat Sushi. I have started a new paradigm, which is to quietly and politely ask him to sit every time he looks at Sushi as if herding. Sounds simple, but so far it’s the only “incompatible behavior” that seems to take him out of obsessive stalking mode.)

Good news, although I hesitate to say that and doom myself with premature optimism. Does Willie ignore Sushi now? Oh no, oh my no. I truly don’t believe that I will ever be able to completely turn around his interest and fascination bordering on obsessive/compulsive behavior around Sushi as a small, herdable animal. However, here’s what’s good:

* By Day 6, Willie is quicker to pull himself away from Sushi and go get a toy. I can’t say that he initiates looking toward her less (wish I could do nothing but take data on this!), but it feels much easier to change his focus. I still often have to ask him to sit 2 or 3 times in a row as he looks toward Sushi, (he’ll sit, then get up and go back to stalking Sushi) but it seems as though he is more likely than before to cut it off and go do something else. I’m considering “Sit/Stay” but not sure it’s the best way to go. Will keep you posted on that.

* I see fewer tongue flicks and less signs of stress on Willie’s face. This feels huge to me. Before when he was stalking Sushi he would often tongue flick and his face had that tense, drawn look you see on stressed dogs and people. (This was new and was what propelled me into finding another way to handle the problem. Broke my heart to see it.) Now when I say “Sit” he is more likely to either keep his mouth closed, or open it as if relaxed once sitting.

* Sushi’s behavior has changed significantly. She is much more likely to come closer to Willie and me if I am in the same room with him. Last night she walked to within a foot of Willie (which she has not done in the past few months) and lay down. Willie was lying down at my feet, and although I couldn’t see his face, his head neither rose nor fell (as if stalking), and I saw no signs of his body tensing. I suspect he was not completely comfortable, because in about a minute he got up and lay down a few feet away. But he never rose up, head fixated laser-like onto Sushi as he been doing lately every time he saw Sushi, even from a long way away.

* Three times in the past two days I have seen Willie sit on his own when he looked toward Sushi. This is huge, needless to say, and resulted in jack pots of legendary proportions (although quiet ones, because if I had gotten too excited Wilie would have gotten overstimulated, and yep, started on the cat again….So I said, quietly, “What a gooooood, goooooood, goooooood boy you are!” Because I’ve conditioned the word ‘good,’ (just like you’d load a clicker), just that word has a profound effect on Will. As I spoke his tail wagged and his mouth opened as he turned his face to me.) Keep in mind the reason this is so good is that sitting seems to take Willie completely out of “herding dog” mode (not true of one of the blog reader’s dogs, see the comments from last blog–another reminder that every dog needs a custom plan!)
* Most importantly, in some ways, I feel ten times more relaxed. I don’t know what will happen in the future, but it’s easy to say “sit” every time he looks at Sushi (as well as continuing our extensive management in which Sushi and Willie are often separated in time and space.) Having a new plan rather than worrying about it every day without knowing what to do is such a relief, isn’t it?

* The only negative so far is that Will’s Sit cue is degrading. It was at about 99.99% compliance, and now it’s not close to that. I realized a few days ago that the only time I was asking him to sit (and dozens of times a day) was when he was looking at Sushi. That seems easy to fix, I’m just adding in sit now in other contexts, going out of my way to ask for it before I through the ball etc (when I usually would have asked for Lie Down).

Again, I’ll keep you posted. (And if you are interested, do read the first post from 12/1 to catch up on this issue… and note that Willie is not following, chasing or simply harassing the cat. He is/was going into a hard-wired, “strong-eyed” BC stalking behavior that appears to be somewhat involuntary and can be impossible to turn off in certain circumstances. There are lots of interesting comments about this from 12/1, I encourage you to read them if you have time.)

Meanwhile, back on the farm: We had our first real snow yesterday. Me and my car had quite the adventure sliding sideways up a hill to yoga (where I’m learning some postures to help with my Sushi allergy!) I haven’t gotten any photos yet, but it’s cold and white and feels very very much like December now. I’m about to go home and decorate cookies for Lassie’s 16th birthday party this Sunday. Looks like she’ll have quite a crowd of admirers, as, of course, she deserves. I’ll post pictures on Monday of the big event.

Here’s a sun rise photo I took with my little camera on Sunday morning from the front porch. May Lassie, and all our old dogs, see another year’s worth of them. . .

Yeah well, this is something I know well, except, uh… how come it took me 2 years to figure it out with my own dog? Sigh.

Here’s the back story: As many of you know, my 3 year old BC, Willie, is both a joy and a challenge. He’s joyful, incredibly responsive, the perfect dog for me to work on sheep, so reliable when working that I can let the sheep graze by the road, smart, fast and handsome.

He also:

* Came with projectile diarrhea (lasted 3 months, now completely solved).

* Developed a bad shoulder early in life (now managed and partially healed, ‘tho surgery still a potential).

* Developed, also early on, a serious dog-dog aggression problem (partially treated and partially managed; plays with lots of other dogs, makes good, reliable decisions to keep himself out of trouble, but not a candidate for a dog park).

* Was so hyper sound-sensitive as a pup that I couldn’t take him out much (now better but far from “normal,” will sometimes leap up out of a sound sleep if you turn the page of a book).

* Became fearful of unfamiliar men during adolescence (95% solved, 5% still doing counter conditioning)

* Exhibited Possession-related aggression even as a 9 week old pup: went after an adult dog over food on the kitchen floor at 9 weeks of age. (Now 95% treated, no growls or tooth displays to another dog in 2 and a half years, though he will body block another dog from his play mate or pets from people until I notice and suggest he mind his manners.)

* And (and here’s the topic of today’s blog… took me long enough, hey?), incessantly herds Sushi, my cat.

This last issue has been the hardest one for me to deal with, without question. If you’ve never seen a “strong-eyed Border Collie” herding a cat, then it’s hard to imagine how frustrating and tiring it is. But trust me, it’s exhausting. Not only is it harassing to the cat (Sushi hates it), but if I let it go he works his way up to nipping at her. This is not something that can be ignored, and if unmanaged, it would happen 100% of the time that Will and Sushi were in the house together. He has even taken to waiting at the window, in what can only be described as BC-typical obsessive insanity, just in case Sushi shows up on the porch.

I’ve had 12 BC’s and only 2 of them have stalked the cat as if it were a small, furry hoofed animal. In both cases, Willie and a dog named Scott, the dogs are “strong-eyed” BC’s, meaning that their inherent response to anything that they define as “livestock” or “herdable” is to lock up in a stalking posture, complete with a laser-like stare that can’t be broken. Think “Stalking-Border-Collie-on-Drugs”. Strong-eyed dogs can be a problem when herding sheep too. They get partway around the sheep on an outrun, make eye contact with the lead ewe and bang, they’re transfixed and immobile.

I’ve worked this through (most of the time) on sheep, but I’ve struggled mightily at home with Willie and Sushi. I’ve tried using a look at the cat to lead to another, much loved behavior (looking at cat leads to play with favorite toy).. that just made it worse. I used a clicker to put stalking on cue, and a clicker to teach him to stop stalking. No luck. I’ve tried teaching “Lie Down” every time you look at the cat… that leads to a tense face, flat ears and tongue flicks. I tried teaching him “Watch” so that he looks at me when he looks at the cat and reinforcing it with a tug game. That method was fantastically successful at turning his extreme fear of unfamiliar dogs into happy anticipation. But it didn’t help for this.

After trying all of the above with no success, I tried corrections, in this case verbal “no’s” which Will had been taught originally as a circus trick. They were taught to mean “Please stop doing that, turn away and look at me.” However, given a serious case of “I’m only human,” they began to turn into an expression of frustration, somewhere around the 27th time in one hour that I had to call him off the cat. Needless to say, I dropped that method because it made things worse for both of us. Of course we know that in this kind of situation, positive punishment only works if it is intense enough. And so, I tried a citronella collar, which freaked out the cat and Willie both, in a cartoonish but ineffectual kind of way. I put it away.

Trust me, this is not an easy behavior to turn around. Herding is not just something he loves, it is something he has minimal control over. Yes, he can lie down when told, back up when told, on sheep, etc, but he can’t switch off wanting to herd animals, he can’t stop being a strong-eyed Border collie, and he can’t stop defining the cat as something to be herded. It truly seems involuntary.

Add this on to the fact that all my allergies are getting worse, including the ones to my cat, and it’s made life for Sushi less than ideal. I’ve been wracking my brain about what to do about Willie and Sushi, well aware that I haven’t been handling it well enough.. It’s not much of a problem in summer, because Sushi is outside so much, but it’s getting colder and she’s inside more often. It’s less of a problem for house sitters, because Wilie is the worst when he’s actively working sheep. The more he works sheep, the more he wants to work Sushi. And that only happens when I’m home. (I hoped when it first began, around 8 months of age, that it would go away when he started working sheep regularly. Au contraire, it got much worse.)

Three days ago it occurred to me that I had neglected to try the the simplest of solutions. I’m afraid to say much about how Method #437 (it feels like) is working, because it’s too soon to say how much it will help. But, oh please, please, cross all your paws. It’s going well so far, all three days of it. (Deep breath.)

Here’s what we’re trying: Whenever Willie looks at the cat with his head even slightly lowered (as if stalking), Jim or I cheerfully ask him to “Sit.” Sitting is not a posture one adopts when one is herding livestock. (Which lying down is, and it seems obvious that I never should have tried that in the first place.) Ironically, sitting IS a posture Willie first used around sheep. Often when I’d ask him to lie down, he’d sit down instead. He did it so often that I actually asked a clinic instructor if he thought it was a problem and whether a judge at a trial would take off for it. He said “Well, you don’t want to see a dog doing it…” and I understand why. A sitting BC doesn’t look like he’s working. He looks downright douffy. I believe that Willie did it when he was unsure of how to behave around the sheep. As he matured, he became less and less likely to adapt a sitting posture, and his stalking posture became more committed, and more intense as he gained confidence. If you analyze it, it’s another form of positive punishment (I add something to decrease the frequency of a behavior), but it is only mildly aversive to Willie (he sits with an open mouth and relaxed body, looking mildly confused rather than stressed). It’s said in an upbeat tone, and he’s had years of positive reinforcement for sitting when asked. Most importantly, it feels pleasant for both of us, and it takes him out of herding mode without reinforcing him for stalking (as I suspect all the positive reinforcement did.)

Viola. . . Maybe? The perfect incompatible behavior to link to stalking the cat? Look at the cat and you’ll end up sitting down. That takes him out of herding mode, takes all the tension away (one hopes) and MAY help. It’s only day 3, and it’ll be 3 weeks before I really get a good idea of whether this is going to help. It’s hard to say: Willie doesn’t just herd the cat, I truly believe that it feels vitally important to control her every movement. (Personally, I think he hates her guts, and vice versa.)

I bring this up here for two reasons. One is the importance of finding the RIGHT incompatible behavior to replace a problematic one. Replacing one behavior with an appropriate one is a cornerstone of much of the work I do… and I’ve always said you have to find the right behavior. Here’s hoping that this is an example.

Secondly, this is hereby an official reminder that folks who write popular, well-received books put their pants on one leg at a time, and can be just as slow as anyone else to solve their own problems. As tempting as it is (and it is, honest) to keep this issue private, I have always believed that the really great trainers and teachers are the ones who aren’t afraid of being human, and aren’t afraid to be honest when they screw up. I’m always relieved when someone I admire admits to not being perfect (as I often imagine them), and I’m gratified when a client says “Oh I’m so glad I’m not the only one these things happen to,” after I tell a story on myself.

I’ll keep you posted on the rest of this particular story. Sushi may have to find another home because of my allergies, but I sure would like to solve this last serious behavioral problems of Willie’s. . . (before the next one crops up!) That may not be possible; I know plenty of people who work their BC’s on sheep or cattle who have that one special Border collie who just can’t leave the cat alone. I’ve asked many of them what they’ve done. I’ve heard “beat the crap out of the dog” and “kick the cat outdoors” and “grin and bear it,” but I’ve yet to talk to someone who had “one of THOSE BC’s” who got it turned around. Keep in mind, this isn’t all BC’s… Luke, Lassie, Pippy, Drift, etc, never did it once. Cross your paws for me.

Predictably, I couldn’t get a great picture of Willie in full stalk. As soon as I approached with the camera he changed his behavior (thus, proving “McConnell”s Law” which states that if you want to eliminate a behavioral problem, carry around a camera and try to record it). But here he is watching Sushi as she looks out the window.

Sushi leaves the room, and Willie follows.

I guess I should just take my own advice and carry a video camera around at home . . .