THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

Ah, here I go into the fray. Picture my loins girded. In some ways I’d love to avoid this topic altogether, because as most of you know, conversations about “the D word” can sometimes turn into arguments that make the American health care debate seem like a day at the spa. (I was going to say “like a tea party,” but then . . . )  But I think the issue is important, and deserves consideration. So EEEEE HAH! here we go.

This post will only be a beginning, because the topic of “dominance” and social relationships is actually a big one, and I’d like to facilitate a thoughtful, meaningful discussion about it in dogs. As you all know, some people think that just about all of our problems with dogs relate to “dominance” and advise owners to “be the alpha dog.” At the other end of the spectrum, some argue that “dominance” and even the concept of “social status” are completely irrelevant to a dog’s behavior, and that the terms should be struck from our vocabulary. I don’t agree with either extremes of the spectrum (but I’m a lot closer to one than the other!), so hang onto your hats, here we go . . .

First of all, it would be good to start with a definition. The simple definition of ‘dominance,’ as the term is used by the general public is something like: “control or command over others.” However, (and this is a huge “however”) that is NOT the definition as the term is used by people who study animal behavior, the ones who first coined the term to describe a certain kind of social relationship in non-human animals. In ethological terms, “dominance” refers to “priority access to a preferred, limited resource“. In other words, if there’s only one really great table open at a restaurant, who is going to get it? You, or the famous actress standing beside you?

Relating this to dogs, if someone dropped a pork chop between two dogs, who would get it? If you repeated this numerous times and the same dog got it every time, that dog was described in the literature as “dominant” over the other IF both dogs wanted the food equally.  The “dominant” dog could get priority access to the food in a variety of ways; s/he could simply look toward the other dog with a hard stare, could try to be the fastest one every time, or could fight for it. The problem is that fights are dangerous if you are a predator who can rip open elk hide with your mouths. (For a reminder of the power of the canine jaw, try making a gash in a leather purse with your teeth. If you are successful, please send video….heck, send one if you’re not successful!)

The potential of injury in social predators, is the reason that many argue why social hierarchies developed in animals like wolves. (Yes, I know dogs aren’t wolves. Bear with me here.) If every time one had to fight for what one wanted, the genes that predisposed an individual to fight would be eliminated out of the gene pool. That’s the explanation for the existence of social hierarchies: they allow individuals to get ‘priority access’ without having to fight for a resource every time it was available. Note that serious fights do happen in some species: In many ungulates (hoofed animals like elk for example), the males fight every breeding season for priority access to females. They are continually challenged by other males, and spend so much energy guarding their females that even if they aren’t killed or injured in a fight, (it happens, but not commonly), they sometimes die over the winter, having been unable to spend enough time feeding in fall to put on body fat to get them through the winter. However, before they are mature,  young male ungulates often spend years in “bachelor herds,” in which they may play at fighting, but no one individual has priority access to anything else during that period. Their food is widely dispersed and the only ‘resource’ they need to compete over is females during a breeding season. As this Elk examples shows,  a ‘resource’ can be many things, from a pork chop, to the best sleeping place, to a female in heat. But, remember, the “D” word is about “priority access to a resource,” not about anything else.

Here’s what “dominance” ISN’T: It has nothing to do with decision-making about the actions of a group or one other individual. There is no relationship in the literature between who decides when to move on, where to go or what to do. Period. (Bookmark this point!)

It has nothing to do with “who’s in front.” (In prey animals, the ‘dominant’ member of the group is often found in the middle of the herd if the group is in an area that might be dangerous.)

It is not fixed and immutable: Who “has dominance” can vary in time (as one individual ages for example), in space (one individual can have it in one area and not another) and in context (perhaps one individual with dominance doesn’t like pork chops.) In some species it appears to be linear (as in chickens, for example, in which if A is over B, and B is over C, then A is always over C). In most social mammals, it is non-linear and much, much more fluid and complicated.

It is highly influenced by resource distribution: “Clumped, high quality resources” tend to exaggerate social hierarchies, which probably explains why captive wolves appear to be absolutely obsessed with hierarchy, while wild wolves appear to be more relaxed about issues related to social status. (Keep this in mind for later when we talk about studies on feral dogs versus owned dogs.)

It is usually maintained by visual or chemical displays that are innate and are species-specific. It can be achieved by an initial fight in which one individual wins and the other backs off, or, more commonly, by nothing more than the types of display specific to that species. (Think high tail, erect ears and forward posture of a captive wolf). If the individuals continue to fight over a resource, then there is not an established hierarchy.

It is not a relationship desired equally by all individuals in a group. In complex social societies, not everyone is equally motivated to be first in line for the goodies. In our species, for example, some people would love the status associated with being famous, while others would consider a guarantee of a great table at a restaurant to be a poor trade for losing their privacy and would avoid it at all costs. In some species, high status is associated with increased responsibility, which can be dangerous and burdensome.

That’s a good starting place for our discussion. In my next post, I’m going to write about how all this might relate to domestic dogs. But I will say here that the misuse of the term “dominance” in dog training is so pervasive that it causes ethologists like me to want to poke pencils in our eyes. The examples are endless: “Your dog won’t come when you call unless he accepts you as alpha!” (Uh, not relevant, see above.) “Teach your dog a “Dominance Down” and he’ll respect you in the morning!” (Uh, not relevant, see above….). I suspect that much of this comes from the two different definitions of dominance used by the biologists versus the general public. I also think, although I admit to just guessing, that our species loves the idea of control, and anything that suggests we can get it easily is seductive. Whatever the reason, the mis-use of the concept of “dominance” is pervasive.

I’d love to hear your examples of the misuse of the term. I suspect there are some egregious ones that will allow all of us to have a good laugh… and then move on to talk about whether the “D” word is ever (ever!) relevant to dog behavior. Do be considerate please, and don’t assume that everyone believes that way you do. Remember, thoughtful and considerate . . .

Meanwhile, back on the farm: UW is on spring break and besides running the business (and writing blogs!) my life is full of two other things: grading term papers (right now it’s the ones on: “Biological Issues Related to the Use of Non-Human Primates in Biomedical Research” — both ‘sides’ must be covered objectively; next it’s Cloning Pets) and of pacing the barn floor. I have 4 ewes who are overdue, one by 5 days. A day or two is, of course, meaningless, lambs paying no more attention than babies to when they are supposed to arrive. But 5 days? Jeeeez, Dorothy, have your lambs already!

Here’s the first of the lambs: A twin boy and girl from Lady Godiva. The all-black ram lamb is lying behind Lady G and the ewe lamb with the white body and black eye spot. I’m calling her the Lassie Lamb.

Here’s the first flowers of the season, crocus. Color! Whaaa Hooo! Daffodils are JUST starting today…

And lest you think it’s all lambs and flowers out in the country, here’s a photo of just a few of the hundreds of Asian beetles that invade my house for 2 weeks every spring and fall. They were brought over to control aphids, and the person who made the decision to import them wouldn’t last a day in southern Wisconsin. They are a scourge, somewhat akin to locusts. What you are seeing was taken about 10 minutes after 30 minutes of vacuuming, which followed another long session of vacuuming earlier in the day. They look like our native “Lady Beetles,” but they have no natural predators, bite when they’re hungry, smell horrific, land in your drinks, fly into your food and generally make life miserable. You can spray for them, but the active ingredient makes me sick and and is not safe for cats. Now you know why I went out for dinner tonight.

xx

I’m just back from participating in grant reviews for NIH (Nat’l Institute of Health), and what a process it was. 36 people, from all over the country and a vast range of fields, were charged with reviewing a large number of grant proposals for scientific merit. The proposals were administered through the Nat’l Institute of Child Health and Development and related to Human/Animal Interactions. I can’t tell you anymore about the grants themselves, or they’ll shoot out my kneecaps. Well, probably not, but the absolute hardest part of the process is that we all pledged to keep virtually any information about the proposals themselves completely confidential.  That means never, ever talking about them to anyone, ever, outside of our two days of meetings in Washington, D.C. As the Scientific Review Officer said: “The statute of limitations is forever.” She said it would be the hardest part of the process, and it is. I’d say more, but then I’d start going down a slippery slope.

What I can tell you is this: First, the initial phase of the process is something like sitting on a beach in the warm sand, and then looking up to see a wave about 30 feet high looming toward you. Once you agree to be a reviewer, the amount of information that one is sent is, well, overwhelming. The process is clearly much less time consuming once you’ve done it before , and considerably less confusing, but as a newbie, wading through the reams of information sent through the mail, email and internet is daunting. It took me I don’t know how long just to figure out what COI (conflict of interest) and SRO (Sr. Review Officer) meant. Well, I do know how long it took, but I’d rather not say.

In brief, 3 people are charged with carefully reviewing about 6 grant proposals each. Once that is done (8 million hours later-although the process is actually clear and straight forward once you’ve got in figured out, some of the grants are over 200 pages long), the entire panel of 36 people meets for 2 days to discuss and eventually rate every proposal that the reviewers agree has merit. We met from 9 am to 6:30 pm on the first day (1/2 hr for lunch, in the room) and started at 8 am the 2nd day. We finished around 1:30 pm, which was a boon to those of us who wanted to fly home that day. I managed to book an earlier flight, and got home at 9:30 instead of midnight. What’s most important to know, if you are a tax payer, is that the process was done with meticulous attention to giving every proposal a fair and equitable hearing, that the room full of reviewers (from child psychiatrists to CAABs like me) had enough IQ to lift the building off of its foundation and that everyone worked hard and appeared to care deeply about the process.

Before I left I must have said “I WILL NEVER DO THIS AGAIN” at least 25 times and after I came back I said “Wow, that was amazing.”

But the primary reason I bring it up here is because the review process reminded me of a ‘simple’ but not easy aspect of dog training: starting from the beginning. Let me explain: The SRO (see, now you know the lingo too!) asked us to let her know if they could do anything to make the process simpler and easier for first time reviewers. I will write her next week, because there is. What I most needed was someone to give me chronological instructions. “First, do A. You do A this way. Then, do B. The way you do B is this….”. It seems so simple, but it’s actually very difficult to pull off instructions that are that clear IF you are involved in a complicated process and IF it’s hard to remember what it is like to start from the beginning.

I think learning to train a dog has the exact same challenge. So many trainers are so good at what they do that they can’t remember what it was like when they first started. There are great dog trainers who are brilliant at training dogs, and there are great teachers who are great at training people to train dogs. Sometimes that gets combined, but they are two different skills, don’t you think?  Great dog training teachers are able to both empathize with dogs (as best one can with another species) and also with the beginners that they are working with. I am still touched and saddened by how many people have come to my office in the last 22 years and said “I left dog training class/another behaviorist/the vet’s office in tears…”. I think it happens less than it used to, but it still happens too much. One feels so vulnerable when starting something out, and unless information is provided in a way that begins at the beginning, it is hard to learn much.

But it’s tough to start at the beginning when you were there many, many  years ago, isn’t it? It’s challenging, but it’s actually one of my favorite parts of my work–working with people who don’t even know where to start. In part, it requires a clear understanding of where the beginning really is, which is not always an easy place to spot when you’ve traveled far away from it yourself. So here’s the question of the day: What is the beginning? What are the very first things that people need to know about training and behavior when they first get a dog?

Here’s one of mine, just to prime the pump: Dogs can learn to respond to dozens or hundreds of words, but first, they are watching you. Learn to pay attention to how  your body moves when ‘talking’ to your dog, and you will automatically beocme a much better trainer.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Before the farm, here’s a shot taken close to my hotel in Washington, DC. Trees in bloom, OH MY!

And here are some of the girls (and Redford in the middle) at the feeder, with careful attention paid to their nether regions. Butt checks like this happen three times a day now. I have 3 ewes who were/are due to lamb between yesterday and tomorrow, and I am obsessively looking for signs of imminent action. The one who looks closest here is Spot, 2nd from the right, with her slightly enlarged bag and swollen vulva. And of course, there’s piggy Brittany standing in the feeder getting everyone covered in hay, as usual…

But nothing yet. Jim, Will and I are about to go on a long walk (it’s sunny and gorgeous) and I’ll check again when we get back.  Will is still on leash, but I let him run free to the barn and back yesterday (he is crazed with joy to be outside off leash or off heel, I got tears in my eyes watching him flip and spin joyously). I’m still taking it slow, we’ll keep him on leash for the long walk, but I’m becoming a bit optimistic that he might be able to go back to working sheep or playing with other dogs in a week or so.

Some of the recent posts have brought up the question that many of us live with on a daily basis: how much training and attention do our dogs need every day? I get asked this a lot, and as I wrote in my essay in Tales of Two Species, I suspect that there’s another fundamental question driving it (she says, speaking from  experience.) How much exercise, training and attention do our dogs need for us not to feel guilty? Fess up, don’t you sometimes wonder if you are doing enough for your dog, and don’t you sometimes feel guilty about not doing as much as you should?

I am sure that many of the people reading this blog will say no, they don’t feel guilty, and for good reason. I know that many of you take your dog out to classes several nights a week, take long walks in the country with them twice a day, teach them new tricks on a daily basis and cuddle with them all night long.  But I suspect that many of the readers are more like me: sometimes feeling pleased about the physical and mental exercise we’re providing for our dogs, other times feeling guilty and inadequate.

For example, yesterday was not a good day for Willie. First off, he’s on exercise restrictions: leash walks only outside, no toy or ball play outside, no sheep herding, limited play inside, no running up the stairs. Secondly, I was on campus much of the day, so he spent from 11 am to 6 pm in his crate. It’s rare he’s in his crate for longer than 4-5 hours at a time, but life isn’t always the video tape I thought I rented. I would’ve felt guiltier if I’d been getting a massage and eating chocolate all day long, but still, I didn’t like it.

I was also slammed with the grant reviews I’m doing for NIH, so I spent most of the morning and part of the evening glued to my desk.  All Will got beyond times to go outside and potty was heeling to the barn and back twice (which gets him lots of treats, and he seems to love), another heeling session when I got home (I’ve tried for 5 times a day–only managed it some of the days since I committed…), a small amount of trick training in the evening, and a long cuddle time in the evening with lots of belly rubs from me or Jim. Not a great day by a long shot.

But Wednesday? Oh, happy day for Willie. A 45 minute long walk in the country (on leash, but lots of good new smells) 5 sessions of heel work with lots of treats in 3 different contexts, interactive play with 2 new toys, a car ride to his chiropractor and all morning in the office with me and Denise (who he worships), lots of trick training and cuddle time at night. I went to bed feeling happy that Will had had a great day.

All this feels especially relevant because I haven’t had just one dog in decades, and I am so aware how different it is if your dog can’t play with others or entertain themselves outside. Lassie still played with Willie twice a day up to a week before she died, and the burden of ‘entertainment’ falls completely on my shoulders now. Of course, I live in the country and  have sheep for Will to work, but none of that is relevant at the moment with him on leash restrictions (9 more days to go!)

So what DO our dogs need from us if they can’t entertain themselves? I remember growing up and letting our family dog, Fudge, out the door in the morning, when she’d pick up other canine companions and explore the neighborhood until we came home from school. The idea of entertaining or exercising our dog never entered our mind.  But that was then, and we can’t and shouldn’t go back to it. So, here’s some thoughts about what dogs need from us–I look forward to hearing your thoughts too.

PHYSICAL EXERCISE: Yes, dogs need it, but how much varies so very much depending on the dog’s nature, age, etc etc. Just like people, dogs are simply healthier if they get in a good long walk every day, or better yet, a chance to run and romp off leash. I would love to provide some formula of how much exercise a dog needs, but it varies so much there’s no way to do it helpfully. In an ideal world, my 3 1/2 year old Border Collie would get long (45 to 90 minute) off-leash walks in the country at least 6 days a week, along with a good session working sheep, but it’s rare that happens more than 2 or 3 days a week. Ideally? I’d love it if every dog could get 2 sessions of solid exercise in every day, the definition of “solid” depending on the dog.

A few thoughts about the type of exercise that I’d be interested in your reaction to: I think some types of exercise tend to hype dogs up rather than calm them down. Ideally I think all our dogs would profit from lots of long, off leash (or long line) walks in which they aren’t fetching balls or discs or obsessing about objects in some way. One of my clients has a problematic BC who didn’t seem to be calmed after ball play, but rather hyped up by it. I’m not saying we shouldn’t play ball, or that many dogs don’t adore it (it’s Will’s absolute favorite game to play, paws down) just that some types of exercise might be more relaxing than others. I always like to see dogs have time to make their own choices and just be dogs–sniffing here, sniffing there, while performing the kind of consistent, aerobic exercise that creates relaxation in humans (think runner’s high).

MENTAL EXERCISE: This need for this kind of exercise is my favorite soap box, in the belief that many pet dogs suffer from boredom and too few chances to exercise their brains. I’ve found, as have many trainers, that learning a new trick or working on problem solving can ‘tire’ out dogs as much or more than physical exercise. One dear friend just sent Willie 2 new Ottosson toys (am I feeling SO grateful to my friends right now! What would we do without them?), and one of them has Will completely baffled. He tried to work it, couldn’t figure it out even with lots of encouragement from me, and then lay down and slept like a rock for an hour. Stressed? Absolutely, but not in a bad way I don’t think, and good for him in the long run.

All the research on neuroplasticity and brain function makes it clear that “use it or lose it’ is relevant to the brain, and that a healthy brain can lead to a healthier body.  I’m reading Sharon Begley’s Train Your Mind, Change Your Brain right now–it’s another great book, and provides continuing inspiration to keep our dog’s brains busy. New tricks, new problems to solve,  reviewing old training exercises little used now–surely all of these things are as good for dogs as they are for us.

NOVELTY: This is something that I don’t think many people think about it, but I think it’s crucial to a dog’s happiness and overall health. We know that novelty engages the brain in all kinds of ways that nothing else can, and leads to new connections between neurons (usually a good thing) and enhanced enthusiasm for life in general. Here’s an example: Because Will is on leash restrictions we came into town a few days ago and went on a 30 minute walk through neighborhoods that are completely new to him. Although he couldn’t go faster than a walk, he was completely engaged in new sights, sounds and smells, and slept for hours afterward. Compare that to a dog who took the same walk, same route, every day, year after year. How stimulating would that be? I’ve noticed that Will is far less engaged in our walks in the pastures above the farm house than other dogs who come to visit, and why wouldn’t that be true? Same ol’ same ol’ for him, a potpourri of smells and excitement for the newbies.

Psychologists know that experiencing novelty is one of the keys to keeping human relationships vital and preventing partners from becoming bored with each other. Why wouldn’t the same be true for us and our dogs? The good news here, and with mental exercise as well, is that a little bit of effort can have big pay offs for our dogs. You don’t need to devote an hour every evening to teaching a new trick, which provides both mental exercise and novelty. You can take your dog to a new place for 20 minutes and get the same effect as if you’d taken an hour long walk in a place that is becoming old hat. Of course, the benefits depend on many factors: a new place that is frightening to neophobic dog isn’t going to enhance your dog’s life.

FREEDOM OF CHOICE: One the books I’ve been reading on brain plasticity mentioned increased dendritic branching (connections between neurons) when caged rats were allowed to voluntarily exercise. That’s a good thing for the brain, and can lead to all kinds of positive benefits, not only enhanced mental function but also to a better ability to handle stress, for example. But here’s the kicker: there was no effect when the rats were forced against their wheel to exercise, even if it was for the same amount of time. Forced exercise may be good for physiological health, but not necessarily for a healthy brain.

I thought of this after working with someone whose dog was never off leash, and had almost no choices about what to do or when to do it in the house. Surely that’s big price to pay for having your food and medical care guaranteed. The dog (a young, sweet, soppy Golden) had begun growling at her owner when he wiped off her paws as she entered the house. The house had wall to wall white carpeting, and the dog was only allowed to lie down on a few towels scattered about. The dog’s behavior was so carefully managed that the poor thing literally had no choice about where to lie down, when to potty, where to sniff outside, and what to play with. Granted, this example is extreme, but it’s a good reminder of the value of choice. Since our dogs, most of them, are no longer able to spend considerable periods of time outside on their own, we need to be creative to find ways to let them manage their own lives for part of the day.

Speaking of our own dogs: I need to get home and get Willie some physical and mental exercise that provides novelty and choice! I could go on and on on this topic, but I’d rather hear your thoughts….

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Jim will farm sit while I’m in DC doing grant reviews on for the Nat’l Institute of Child Health and Development in NIH and appearing on the Diane Rehm show on Monday. She is a breath of fresh air, so I’m looking forward to Monday and very interested how Tuesday and Wednesday (reviews) will go. Needless to say, I can’t say anything about the grant proposals, but I can tell you that the process is interesting, exhausting and yup, novel!

Next weekend the first lambs are due! Can’t wait. Bulbs coming up (in unnaturally warm weather, is almost weird) and lambs coming. I’ll send photos of the first lambs as soon as I get them. First ones are due a week from tomorrow, Saturday the 27th.

Here’s Will with a favorite toy.. this toy has lasted for over a  year, and is still one of his favorites. I love how the toy is in focus and Will’s is not. Good thing, cuz he looks downright crazy in this shot!

And here’s the view on the way to the farm when the snow was melting and the world was soggy with mud and melting snow and fog:

I promised a post on “how much training/attention” should we be giving our dogs, and it’ll come, I promise. However, I’m a tad under the weather today, and since I wrote this part up yesterday I’ll post it now, and pick up the training topic soon. Fact is, things are pretty crazy here right now. Besides speeches (thanks SAVMA for having me!), finishing grading 150 7-page exams, new lectures, and the usual daily work load, I agreed to be a grant reviewer for NIH (Nat’l Institute of Health). They are due this Friday, then I fly to DC for panel reviews (and an appearance on Diane’s Rehm’s radio show… I just love her, so that’s a great perk.) If I’d known how much work these reviews would be, well… not so sure I’d have said yes. But it’s interesting, very interesting. But more on the training schedule issue soon, because I think it’s something that’s important to many of us.

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Shearing went off without a hitch Saturday morning; what a treat to see the sheep’s bodies without their coats of wool or hair. Turns out they weren’t as chubby as I thought, and given that they are due as early as two weeks from now, they’ll be getting more food for breakfast and dinner. High time, I’m sure they’d say. They are on extremely nutritious hay, glorious stuff rich with lots of alfalfa leaves, but the more the better from their perspective I’m sure. The day of shearing was cloudy, windy and damp, so I kept them inside the barn. Today it’s breezy but sunny and toasty (50’s!), and I’d bet that they are thrilled to be outside, in the sun and gnawing on tiny new shoots of grass. (New shoots! Bulbs poking green leaves above ground! Be still my heart; I’m almost afraid to believe that spring is really coming… of course, there will be lots more cold days, probably lots more snow, but still, the progression is inevitable and oh so welcome.)

I couldn’t resist experimenting with an old farmer’s trick passed on through a comment on the blog (thanks!) about anointing the sheep with Mennen’s After Shave before turning them loose after shearing as way of decreasing aggression. Given that last year Truffles and Dorothy looked like they were auditioning for a segment on “When Animals Attack” (see photos March 16^th, 2009) , I thought I’d try it. I didn’t have any Mennen’s, but hey, I did have Evelyn & Crabtree Body Mist (Nantucket Briar, ummm, just love the smell), and I figured that any strong scent would do. So immediately after they were shorn I backed them into a corner and sprayed them all. At first they scattered from left to right, but after a few sprays they stood still and let me spray them all over their heads and necks. Did they like it? I swear I think they did. Sheep are very quick to run away from anything they don’t like, and either they were going into tonic immobility (which is highly doubtful), or they honestly liked the smell. And, amazingly, I saw almost no aggression between them. There was a brief moment of head-on-head pushing, but that was it.

The shearer wasn’t surprised; he is convinced that it’s not a visual difference that causes the problem, but that the sheep smell different after they are shorn. Once you take off their wool, which is full of lanolin and a unique slurry of individual scents, they smell very different than they did before. (Sort of like cats when they come back from the vet clinic?) Our experiment certainly supported that hypothesis. (And oh wow did the barn smell good.). Thanks for the tip!

Here’s Redford in “ready to shear” position. Sheep in this position look relaxed, but this probably IS case of tonic immobility… their cortisol readings are elevated when they are in this position, but they do get quiet and passive, which makes shearing much more pleasant for everyone. (The legs belong to Jerry Ace, who is the best shearer I’ve ever had; he is calm and gentle, even when the sheep are not, and there wasn’t one nick or scratch on my sheep. So lucky to have him.)

The next photo is of Dorothy, my oldest ewe, with her beautiful fleece almost off. The brown wool in the middle is the top of her fleece (which gets bleached by the sun), the darker wool on the sides is the inside, skin-side, of her fleece. She and Barbie have gorgeous wool, which will go to hand spinners for cleaning, spinning and knitting.

And here’s most of the flock after shearer was completed. That’s Brittany Spears looking at you (the white one with dark legs), who is indeed a bit of a pudge. She’s the one who crawls into the feeder to get more food–a woman after my own heart.

I’m reading a fascinating book, one that I recommend with five stars for anyone interested in the brain and behavior. It’s titled The Brain That Changes Itself, and is written, beautifully, by Norman Doidge, M.D. The book’s primary focus is on the plasticity of the brain, and how, in contrast to what was formerly believed, the brain is continually changing in response to the environment. He relates stories of stroke victims, for example, who are able to regain the use of limbs rendered nonfunctional because the motor area of the brain that controls them was destroyed. Previously it was believed that the brain can not regenerate and once an area is damaged there is very little that can be done to restore functionality.  However, that turns out to be a complete misunderstanding of how the brain actually works.

It appears that the pathways between the neurons of the brain are strongly affected by experience. Indeed, there is a kind of ‘competition’ within the brain, and as soon as one behavior becomes less common, another behavior begins to take over the neuronal connections. If for example, you stop using your right arm, the area of the brain devoted to moving your left arm becomes substantially larger. If you tape together two of your fingers, so that they can only move in concert, your brain loses the ability to move them separately.

What does this have to do with dog training? Well, besides being a brain geek, I was struck by the similarities between a new therapy for stroke victims and what we know about what’s effective in dog training. Think about this example from the therapy in which someone has lost the use of their right hand. In this new therapeutic paradigm, the patient is physically prevented from using their “good,” left hand. (Either it’s affixed to their body, or it’s covered in a mitt.) That prevents the brain from rewiring itself so that it only powers the left hand.  The patient is then immersed in a therapy that uses shaping (a ha!) to stimulate the brain to power the previously useless hand. First they are rewarded for any movement, (right hand moves an inch), then simple movements, then increasingly complex ones. After just three weeks, patients often regain a tremendous amount of function–even ones who haven’t been able to use a limb for years.

The therapy is believed to be successful at rewiring the brain because of three factors:

RELEVANCE–The training is most effective if it relates to everyday life (patients may practice circular movements by washing windows, for example),

SHAPING–patients are reinforced for each small advance toward a goal, breaking each movement down into tiny step-by-step increments. Sound familiar?!

IMMERSION–patients are immersed in therapy. Standard physical therapy was one hour a day, several times a week. In contrast, this therapy uses what they call “massed practice,” in which patients work for 3 to 6 hours a day. Think of how fast people learn a foreign language when they move to the country in which it is spoken, instead of practicing an hour a day…

The reference to shaping, of course, immediately got me thinking about dog training. Most of us are already using shaping (but isn’t it fun to understand a bit more about why it is so successful?), and I suspect that we often unconsciously create a ‘mini-immersion’ schedule of training. I don’t know about you, but I tend to practice a new trick, for example, relatively often, perhaps 2 to 3 times a day. Once we’ve made progress, my ‘schedule’ (a seemingly overblown description of the random occurrence of training trials) tends to lighten up. But, after having read this section of the book, I am going to increase the amount of early training that I do.

Cautionary note: We always need to be careful not to overdo things in dog training, especially by making each session too long. I’ve seen far too many dogs end up regressing because they’ve been asked to do the same thing over and over, even when they are doing it perfectly. This is often a disaster with super smart dogs, who appear to assume that they must be doing it wrong, and end up changing their responses.

However, why not 5 short sessions a day? Why not 7?  (Yeah, okay…. we all know a good answer to that! More on the reality of life in a minute…) I’m going to try something with Will for the next 2 weeks. I’ve spent so much of our time on working sheep, tricks and behavior around other dogs that I’ve never taught him a tight, classy heel. He’s had a sloppy, workable one for years, all that I really needed, but it just feels like time to polish it up. I’m going to try for 5 sessions a day for the next week.   I’m the first to say it’s going to be tough, even if they only last for 2-3 minutes. There’s all my work, the farm, yoga to keep my body semi-functioning, cooking healthy food, etc etc, but darn it, I’m going to try. I ‘ll keep you posted.

This relates to my next post, which I’ll write sometime later this week. One of you asked a great question: How much time do we spend with our dogs? Doing what? The underlying question here is, I think, one that many of us ask ourselves all the time: “Am I doing enough with my dog?” There’s no question that our enhanced relationship with our dogs brings up new questions, and, sigh, new ways of feeling guilty. I’ll address that soon, but meanwhile, I’d better finish so that I can get the rest of this morning’s work done and run home and start session #1 for the day…

Meanwhile, back on the farm: Will is still on exercise restriction, he MAY have had a minor injury to a ligament in his back leg (he does not have typical symptoms, and doesn’t limp at all, but he slipped on the ice a week ago and for a few days “hopped” on 3 legs for 1-2 strides after getting up.) Given his dodgy left shoulder, I’m not taking any chances. I told Jim this morning that a Willie with 2 bum legs would be, uh… I won’t even go there.  He’s going in for a chiropractic visit soon too, just to be extra careful. Meanwhile, Will, of course, is oblivious to all of this, and most probably has no idea why Tall Two Leg Female won’t throw a toy for him anymore. And no work on the sheep? Argh!

The inevitable March combination of mud and ice is with us, and would be intolerable if it wasn’t for the fact that it is a harbinger of color and light and life reborn. Right now it’s ugly as sin outside: gray and foggy, icy and muddy, bland and dull. You have to look for beauty a lot harder now, but it’s always there if you look hard enough. The sun came out right after I wrote that, so here is a quick shot of the flock in the orchard pasture up the hill behind the house. I suspect they are loving the appearance of grass, little as there may be, and lying in the sun in the balmy weather. (It’s over 40!) It’s not a great picture, but it does give you an idea of what it looks like this time of year.

And right below that scene, the woods by the house are still deep in snow, being on the north side of a hill:

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!