THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

My last post started a good discussion about the use of the term “counter conditioning,” (and its use in treating Separation Anxiety) and one of the comments in particular reminded me that the term is often used differently by different people. For years I’ve always specified “counter classical conditioning” when talking about treatment for SA, for example, when one links something that elicits a positive emotion (like food) with something that elicits a negative one (like fear). But I noticed I’ve started being lazy and using the term “counter conditioning” when I mean counter classical conditioning. I suspect that’s because I don’t tend to use the term “counter operant conditioning.” Rather, I talk about “training an incompatible behavior” which is basically the same thing.

So, to be clear, Classical Conditioning has nothing to do with training a particular behavior. It is a way of linking and emotion with a stimulus (bell = feel good like you do when you smell food, or “Her getting her keys makes me happy cuz when she does I’ll get LIVER!). Operant Conditioning is about reinforcing a behavior (“If I sit and stay I’ll get LIVER!).

Regretably, none of this fixes the messy methods in the study I talked about in the last post, in which dogs were given  (among other things) food when the owner was about to leave and food when they returned. That’s just about the opposite of anything I’d suggest–the whole idea is to make “leaving good” and “coming home boring.” But still, it’s important to know what we’re all talking about when we’re talking, hey?

MEANWHILE, back on the farm, there’s a lot of conditioning, both operant and classical going on. 18 inches of snow + 40 mile an hour winds + 10 degrees below zero Fahrenheit elicit a range of emotions, from awe to fear to the peace that comes when there’s just not a darn thing you can do but settle in, stop worrying about whether you’ll make it out (you won’t), and accept that you’re but a tiny little speck in the universe. But the sheep need feeding, and Willie and I shouldered our way to the barn (well, he “shouldered,”  I “kneed”). Until Jim shoveled a path for them to their hay feeders this morning, I fed them inside the barn because the drifts were so high they couldn’t get out.

Here’s Spot and Truffles looking over one of the drifts after the snow stopped (and yes, it really was that high).

And, with fears you are absolutely sick to death of “Willie and Flying Disc and Snow,” here’s another one. It gives you a good idea of the snow depth in an area in which there was no drifting.

We’re supposed to fly out tonight for Austin, so cross your paws. We have to fly through O’Hare, not the smoothest of airports in the best of times (understatement alert). It’s been closed for 2 days so it’s going to be crazy anyway, AND this is prime time for Green Bay Packer fans to fly from the Midwest to Texas. I’m sure we’ll make it for my first speech at Lake Austin Spa tomorrow night, but it’d be nice if we could manage some “spa-ness” beforehand. Meanwhile, I know many in the U.S. are struggling with ice (much, much worse than snow) and a lack of power. Stay warm and safe, I hope things improve soon.

A study came out recently in Applied Animal  Behavior Science that suggests that Counter Conditioning (CC)  is not an effective way to treat Separation Anxiety. Since I’ve been advising the use of this method for many years, my ears pricked up in hopes I’d learn something important about how better to treat this serious behavioral problem.  The study, by Butler, Sargisson & Eliffe, concluded that Desensitizing (DS) was the successful element in the treatment of SA in the 8 dogs in the study, while CC and “behavioral advice” was not.

We got the article, and I read through it carefully. And then I read it again. And yup, one more time. And then I emailed some of my colleagues and asked “Am I crazy?” I thought I might be losing my mind because try as I might, I could not match the design or results of the study to match the conclusions.

Here’s what’s going on: The study found 8 dogs who were destructive or problem barkers when left alone, and only when left alone. They did a good job of singling out dogs who truly suffered from some form of what they call “Separation-related problem behaviors.” (I suspect they don’t use the term “anxiety” because they don’t want to presume what’s going on the the dog’s mind. I’ll save that for another discussion!) The authors then instructed the owners to use what they called DS and CC, but there’s the rub: Although they define DS correctly as the”gradual and progressive introduction of the stimulus eliciting the phobia,” they define CC as a situation in which a “behavior incompatible with anxiety is explicitly trained when the anxiety-provoking stimulus is introduced. “Whoa, that’s not even close to how CC is defined. CC isn’t about training anything, it’s about pairing a very low intensity of a stimulus that evokes fear with a high intensity stimulus that evokes a positive emotion. For example, a dog afraid of strangers would be CC’d by having a visitor stand outside the door (low intensity because they don’t enter the house) and toss pieces of chicken (high intensity). Over time, and lots of repetitions, the dog’s emotional response to the food becomes attached to the visitor as well.

In the study, the owners were asked to do both CC and DS at the same time, except their “DS” involved leaving the dog for a short period of time (beginning with 5 minutes) with food which makes it more like CC. At the same time, they were to pair behavior associated with leaving with food AND were told to give the dogs food when they returned, which has nothing to do with CC’g an owner’s absence. Say what? Argh, I am much happier being a cheer leader than a critic, but this methodology is so mixed up I can’t imagine what the results would tell us. Moreover, their conclusion that DS works and “CC” doesn’t is based on the fact that, even though all dogs improved, 2 of the owners didn’t do any CC, and their dogs didn’t do any worse than the others. They even added that 2 others of the group didn’t follow CC instructions, so 4 of the 8 owners didn’t actually do what they authors defined as CC, and that wasn’t even CC to begin with. But then, DS wasn’t really DS either. Oh my.

Here’s the good news: Nicole Wilde has a new book out on Separation Anxiety, Don’t Leave Me, and it’s a good one. It’s much longer than my booklet, the 38 page I’ll Be Home Soon, which was written primarily for trainers and behaviorists to give to clients to supplement their instructions. Don’t Leave Me is 150 pages long, and does a good job of defining the problem and suggesting a variety of treatment methods. I have some minor quibbles: I don’t agree that exercise is helpful for most cases of SA (even though it’s generally a wonderful thing) and I suggest spending more time CCing the first phases of leaving (ie, get keys, give chicken), but overall this is a great addition to either a trainer’s resources or a good book for people whose dogs suffer when they are left alone. I like her attention to a broad range of perspectives, from DS to CC to Dog Appeasing Pheromone, Body Wraps and music designed to calm a nervous dog.

Question for trainers and behaviorists: We are thinking of offering a package of one of Nicole’s books with 10 of my booklets, the idea being the book would be in the trainer’s library and the booklet go to clients. Think that’s a good idea? We’re all ears.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Well, it’s our turn now. We’re expecting 10-20 inches of snow in the next few days. It’s snowing like crazy right now, so it looks like the predictions are accurate. Darn, I had just gotten back to working sheep again, after a two week hiatus due to a bad cold and extra cold weather. Oh well, I’ll be in Texas this weekend anyway (if we can fly out of here, all paws crossed!) being forced to speak at the Lake Austin Spa Resort in between lying in lounge chairs and getting a massage. Poor Jim is forced to come too, poor baby.

So we’ll miss a weekend in the snow, but Willie loves it because it means he is allowed to jump for an aerial frisbee, the snow cushioning the impact on his shoulder when he lands. Here’s my absolute all-time favorite frisbee photo of Willie, taken NOT by me but by my great assistant, Katie Martz and then tinkered with by me with my new-found Aperature skills. (To the person who inquired, yes, I am loving Aperature, although I still am not close to an expert at using it yet.) This picture made it easy!

A reader asked if I’d go through what I do to prepare for a trip when I can’t take my dogs along. I thought it was a good question for all of us, and a lead in to what could be a fruitful discussion. After all, leaving one’s dog(s) is hard, and the only way I can do it myself without being a wreck is to have a system in which I feel like I’ve covered as many bases as I can. Here are some of my tips, I’d love to hear yours:

1. Put a big-lettered note by the phone that says YOU ARE HERE and give the address and phone number of your home. House sitters rarely can spit out your address in a crisis, and that’s when they need it the most.

2. Also by the phone, leave EMERGENCY phone numbers for your usual vet (who you’ve called to approve any charges in advance) and if need be, an Emergency Vet Clinic that you trust. My experience with Emergency clinics has been mixed, so do due diligence before you leave a number. I also leave the ASPCA’s Animal Poison Hotline Number, which is 888 426-4435.

3. Leave TWO copies of a list of all contact numbers: your cell, where you’re staying and a full  itinerary, close neighbors to call in an emergency, plumbers, electricians, heating cooling service. I tell the sitter to put one copy in her car–if she gets stranded away from the house, (snow? accident?) she needs the phone number of neighbors to call to help with the animals.

4. Leave a copy of your will, being sure it specifies what is to happen to your animals. I have a friend who has agreed to take Willie, and a friend who has promised to find a home for Sushi. (Come to think of it, I haven’t made arrangements for the sheep. Better take care of that before I go!) If you don’t have a formal will (you should, honest), download a simple one from the internet and get it signed by 2 witnesses. Keep it simple, and say where your pets should go. I designate a considerable sum of money for that animal’s care. I freaked out one house sitter by leaving an envelope labeled “In the Even of My Death” under the sitting instructions, so now I’ll leave it in an easily accessible but less intimidating place. None of us want to think about this happening, but I feel much better knowing that I wouldn’t take my last breath heartsick over not knowing what would happen to Willie and Sushi.

5. If the sitter isn’t there when you leave, have her call and leave a message at your destination right away when she arrives. (I’m going to use a generic ‘she’ just to save space. Apologies to all male house sitters.) I never can relax until I know that the sitter is at the house, and always breath a huge sigh of relief when we connect. Ideally, the sitter is there when I leave the house, but that just can’t always happen. The sitter for this trip is in vet school, and will be in classes when we leave for the airport.  She’ll call my cell phone the instant she gets to the house, and I’ll finally feel like I’m “on the trip” once we talk. I don’t make this suggestion lightly: I have friends who had a sitter who never showed up, and yes, the dogs all died, and yes, it was as horrible as our worst nightmare could possibly be. I’m amazed at the number of people I’ve talked to who don’t even call the house to check in with the sitter, or do so 4 or 5 days after they left. I also strongly advise calling often if you have a new sitter. I once had a sitter who never answered the phone at the farm, but always was on her cell phone “just leaving” or “just arriving” including one night at  one in the morning. When I got back, there was no garbage… nothing, not a piece of paper, after a 10 day trip, to suggest that she had stayed the night. Hummm. Same thing happened the next time, and then, well, there wasn’t a next time.

Also, arrange to call your sitter when  you are back at the house if she will have already left. What if your plane is delayed? What if you were in a car accident on the way home from the airport? All my sitters are “on call” if for some reason they don’t hear from me. They have a list of my flights, both in and out, and know when I should be returning. If they don’t hear from me by X hour, they’ll drive back to the farm or call a neighbor.

6. Less is not more. I leave incredibly detailed notes, including not just what everyone eats and when and where, but also a long “diary” of a “day in the life.” I describe our daily routine, including that Willie and I spoon every night before we go upstairs and that’s one of his (and my) favorite times. I write out a description of each animal, their behavioral quirks, health issues, things to watch for, things I’m working on, what they “know,” what they like and don’t like, what they are allowed to do and not allowed to do. It might seem a bit compulsive and frankly it takes me forever, but I’ve never heard a sitter complain about too much information. On the other hand, I’ve heard LOTS of complaints about too little.

7. If necessary, desensitize your animals to suitcases. If your pets get anxious when they see you preparing to leave, try leaving suitcases out when you’re not going anywhere, going through your ‘leaving’ routine without actually going anywhere. Pack up, and then go watch TV. You can also sneak the suitcase into the car when you actually go away, but if you travel a lot, your dog or cat will react long before you are ready to actually are ready to leave. If  your dog or cat really does have Separation Anxiety, get a copy of I’ll Be Home Soon and go through the steps, adapting it for packing and for travel.

8. And then, once you leave the house . . . give it up. I don’t enjoy writing the notes, making the preparations, because I worry I’ll forget something and end up causing trouble. And I hate driving away. Like a dog with separation anxiety, I practically start to shake, pace, and sweat through my paws, although I do my best to remain cheerful as I’m leaving. I am happy to report I have never been known to drool, but my eyes can get pretty wet as the car pulls away from the house and the farm disappears behind a forest of oak and hickory trees. And then, finally, once I’m on the plane it’s better. Once I’ve talked to the sitter it’s much better. By the next day I’m okay, I am where I am, secure in the knowledge that I’ve done everything I can to make life good for my animals, and with gratitude for the wonderful person with whom I’ve trusted my life, my loves, my precious animals who will be there, eyes catching the light, bodies wagging from the shoulders back, tongues lapping all over me, to welcome me home.

I’d love to hear what you do before you leave home without your pets… any advice from your own experience?

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Trip preparations are in full swing. Every time I cross something off the list, I add two more things. Before I go I have to finish my next Bark column, finish a chapter for a new book about training best practices for American Humane Association, finish a detailed outline of the booklet that Karen London and I are working on for adopting adult dogs, finish last tweaks of my NZ seminars, arrange for demo dogs, and oh yes, run a business. And, of course, the farm is hopping, with the lambs going to market each week and buyers being notified, preparations for winter continuing and squeezing in time to work sheep and prepare to walk 10-13 miles a day with a back pack.  Wheeeee!

Here’s a sunrise from last week, and what we call the “Slasher Movie Sheep” with Rosebud painted red from having been bred by Redford. You can see Redford’s red chest underneath fat, piggy Brittany, who started the habit of standing on the feeder to get her hay (thus negating one of its purposes, to keep hay off the wool of other sheep) and now Rosebud is doing it too. Sigh.