THE OTHER END OF THE LEASH

A long, long time ago I had an intact male Border Collie (my first BC ever, Drift), who appeared to be failing his job as a stud dog. Although his escort, the lovely Tib, could not have been more clear that she was ready to be bred, Drift couldn’t seem to get the job done. Tib would prance around Drift all shiny-eyed, literally throw her rump in his face and flag her tail so far over to the side that I wondered if it might break off. Drift behaved as though he got the message loud and clear, and would enthusiastically mount Tib from behind. But then he would make one or two thrusts, and his entire body would appear to deflate (not to mention his equipment) while he slumped off to the side. Tib would respond by again throwing her rump at his head and flagging (the clarity of a female dog’s intent when performing this action is impressive, if not almost embarrassing), Drift would mount her anew and again slide off as if someone put a pin in a balloon.

With time running out, female dogs don’t ovulate for all that long after all, I drove both dogs to the UW Vet School to see if something was wrong with Drift or Tib. Nope, they both checked out fine. One of the specialists there suggested I try artificial insemination, and proceeded to school me on how to do just that. If you want to know what it was like to have a 6’6″ man ask me if I knew how to “collect a sample,” and then use my thumb and his hand to demonstrate stimulating Drift to ejaculate, you will have to buy me a martini and ask after I’ve drunk the entire thing. Fast.

I never did have to collect a sample. I figured out the problem by putting on my ethologist’s hat and watching the two dogs carefully as they courted. Once I did, I noticed that right before Drift slumped off, his head turned one or two inches toward me. Humm. I moved to the other side, and sure enough, this time Drift’s head turned the other direction, but again toward me. I then put the two dogs in the garage and left them alone. When I came back in five minutes they were tied (and the breeding was indeed successful.) Here’s what I think was happening: Drift was a two-year old intact male when I got him, and just a few days after bringing him home he enthusiastically began to mount and thrust against the leg of a female friend of mine. I said “NO!” in surprise, and said the same a few weeks later when he tried it on another friend. I suspect that Drift remembered that I had corrected him for mounting, and did not distinguish between mounting my friend’s leg from mounting a female dog in heat.

I tell you this story because 1) it still amuses me even many years later, and 2) it illustrates that what we call “mounting” can occur in a variety of contexts and most probably has a variety of motivations. I am writing about this topic because it is one of the ones requested by readers, and I think it is a great one. One comment mentioned that “mounting” is often labeled as a sign of “dominance,” and yet the dog she has that does it most often is extremely submissive in all other contexts. The reader correctly questions whether mounting is really just about the D word…

Which brings up the question: Why do dogs mount others, anyway? Clearly Drift was mounting Tib to copulate with her, but why did he mount the legs of my girlfriends? Dominance? Mis-placed sexual stimulation? Doubtful on all counts. No one really knows why dogs mount others outside of reproductive activity, but here are the best guesses of a variety of experts:

1. Excitement or arousal: I love the way Peter Borchelt, a fellow CAAB, puts it: “There are only so many behaviors a dog has access to, and dogs do what is part of their species-typical behavior.” In other words, arousal causes individuals to want to do something, and since dogs can’t take photographs of each other or check email, one of the actions they can perform when they are excited is to mount each other. Arousal can be positive (yippee!) or negative (I’m so nervous), but it usually, like anger, asks for some kind of action.

2. Attention-getting or play solicitation: Notice me! Notice me! Surely it is hard to ignore a dog who is clasping your hindquarters…..

3. Status related: Certainly this could be true in some circumstances, especially if the mounter in question is also exhibiting postures usually associated with priority access to preferred resources (direct stares, high head and tail postures, etc.) However, Mark Bekoff, in his blog about mounting, mentioned that he found no correlation between mounting, clasping or humping & dominance in young dogs, coyotes and wolves. On the other hand, Camille Ward, in her PhD research, found that mounting was one of the few play behaviors she studied that was”asymmetric,” in that while two playing dogs alternated who chased whom, they did not alternate who mounted whom. Dog A may mount Dog B, but not vice versa.

4. Control: I consider this a very different category than the one above (although I notice that they are often mentioned together.) Here’s an example of what I think of as control-motivated mounting: Dog A observes two others playing enthusiastically, perhaps barking and growling while they do. Dog A is a sound-sensitive dog, or a dog who becomes anxious around increasing energy levels, and so moves in, mounts one dog as a way of stopping the action. We often call these dogs the “play police,” right?

There’s more to this story. How do you define mounting? Does mounting always include clasping and thrusting? What about what is called “Standing Over,” in which one dog stands at right angles to another and puts its forelegs over the shoulders of another dog. Is that a version of mounting, or something different altogether?

If you are interested in reading more about this topic, I refer you to the excellent article written by Julie Hecht (the author of the great blog Dogspies) in Bark magazine and a post by Mark Bekoff also about the topic. If you like watching and evaluating videos, here is one that includes both “standing over” and full scale “mounting” during plays sessions between Willie, and 2 young dogs. I’d love to hear what you think about what you are observing. I’ll check back early next week and chime in myself.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: If I was reading this blog I’d be getting tired of hearing complaints about the weather, and how it was 3 degrees Farenheit yesterday morning and we are all somewhat stunned at the relentless, and untimely grip of winter. So, no more complaints (although you noticed I already managed to do so?), but a few words of concern for the Redwing Blackbird and Starling males who have arrived back from the south in order to claim the best territory before the younger males arrive. They may get the best territory, but then, they may starve to death too, because there is pretty much nothing but snow and ice out there to eat right now. Normally it would be in the mid-40′s and things would be starting to thaw out and even grow.

Here IS some good news: Willie and I pushed the sheep up the snow-covered hill in a desperate attempt to try to work sheep again, weather be damned. The flock, understandably, would have preferred staying in the barn yard, thank you very much, and my lead ewe Barbie turned and faced off Willie, her head down and her message clear. “Come any closer and I’ll smash you.” Willie and Barbie have had a long history together, with Barbie getting the upper hand since his surgery, at least if she felt strongly about not going where Willie told her to. But this time Willie stood firm and met her challenge, and darn if she didn’t soon turn her head and stomp through the snow. Willie will never win points for his inherent bravery (me neither) but he beat her fair and square a few days ago and we both walked down the hill a bit taller than we had walked up it.

More good news, for me anyway, is that I’m going off the grid until Monday. It’s spring break at the university and I’ve decided to attempt to wean myself off my iPad and laptop and desk computer and all other devices that keep me connected to a wonderful world but make it harder sometimes to savor the world immediately around me. Katie will post blog and FB comments, I will absolutely adore reading them all when I return to cyberspace.

My photo for this week is one I took for my photo class, of Nellie looking out the garage window. I love how the “stair step” lines of her head and back follow the lines of the cardboard boxes.

I had planned to post a different article (about new research on the effect of different types of music on kenneled dogs) but want to interview one more expert before I finish it. It’s a fascinating issue overall–how the acoustic environment effects dogs (and us too), and one that deserves an in-depth inquiry. And so, I’ll be posting that article after the holidays. Meanwhile, it seems fitting to send out a short and sweet THANK YOU to all of you who read the blog, and to those of you who post such thought-provoking comments. I hope your holidays are full of love and warmth and gratitude.

BACK ON THE FARM? Well, I couldn’t write from there if I wanted to. We got dumped with snow yesterday, anywhere from 16 to 20 inches in the area. The dogs and I spent a quiet day together in what I am now calling the “snow cave,” with no internet or television to distract us. It probably will be many days before I get either back; the farm has satellite dishes and they are covered with wet, sticky snow that is probably now little but ice, and that won’t melt off for who knows how long. Thanks to a snow plow and a lot of shoveling I made it out this morning to my little town of Black Earth, so I can at least send you these pictures, along with wishes for a sweet and relaxing end of 2012, and a healthy and happy 2013.

Here’s as good an example as any of what “all snow all the time looks like” . . .

Anyone want to come for a picnic?

Check out the snow on top of the wooden feeder on the right. There’s more snow than feeder! (And note the Downy Woodpecker and Chickadee too.)

Nellie and Polly decided to be “Garage cats” instead of “Barn cats,” and join me in wishing you happy holidays. And if it’s summer where you are, then I hope it’s lovely weather. Aren’t you jealous!?

We all know the signs of imminent danger between two dogs right? Immobile stiff bodies, direct eye contact, round eyes. Except when dogs are playing and then the exact same postures and expressions are nothing but pauses between frolics. That is a perfect example of what’s called meta-communication, or communication about communication.

Here’s a video of Willie and his new friend, Leo–the new pup of Katie Martz here at the office–illustrating meta-communication as well as any two dogs could. I look forward to your comments about it.

First, some background: Yesterday they met for the first time, and it went beautifully. Katie stood 40 feet from the door with Leo as I let Willie out and asked him “Where’s the Dog?” We played tug when he looked at Leo and then back at me. After 2 subsequent “autowatches” in which Willie looked at Leo and looked back at me without prompting (and was reinforced with a tug game for it), I released Willie to go meet Leo. He immediately ran over to Leo, who pilo-erected the fur on a dorsal line from neck to tail a little bit, but stood his ground and allowed Willie to sniff him. After a few short seconds Leo relaxed as Willie sniffed him, and both Katie and I felt sure (we discovered later as we talked about it) that he was about to put his forepaws onto Willie’s back. I wasn’t sure how that would go over with Willie so I said “Go to the barn!” to keep their first greeting positive. It all happened so fast I was acting on gut feeling as much as anything else, having learned with Willie and hundreds of client’s dog to avoid extended greetings between dogs. So Willie dashed off toward the barn and their first encounter went well.

Quickly we moved into a fenced 3 acre pasture, and both dogs got to run together off leash. They played beautifully together, although Leo is too young and small to keep up with grown-up, long-legged Willie. There’s a lot going on in this short video, but first watch how Leo’s long play bows correlate with both dogs standing stock still and staring directly at each other. Those signals, normally signs of trouble are not a problem however, because as meta-communication, play bows signal the other dog that stiff bodies and direct stares are just in fun. Just as a football jersey means a tackle isn’t true aggression (okay, maybe American football is a bad example?!), play bows signal other dogs that any behavior to follow is meant as play. That’s why you see them most often between unfamiliar dogs as they begin to play together.

Watch as Leo does beautiful, clear play bows at second 8, 20 (behind my legs), 118, 126, 148 while he and Willie stand stock-still. I love how both dogs stay still until one does what’s called “start-stop,” that quick little lunge that elicits a reaction. (I do it myself to see what will happen at second 40.) (By the way, YouTube changed its settings–surprise, sigh–so you may see another video after the end of this one. Just ignore until we figure out how to change things around!)

Watch too how Leo runs to me and sits beside my legs at second 30. My interpretation of this behavior is that it’s done by dogs who are a bit intimidated by another. There is a great interaction between the dogs right after that, with Leo doing what looks like an abbreviated muzzle punch at second 33 and then licking Willie’s muzzle.

If you watch the video to the end you’ll see Leo squat and pee, and then turn and look back toward Katie. He’s learned if he pees outside he gets a treat, and boy did he learn that lesson well!

There’s lots going on in this video, I’d love to hear any of your comments about what else you might have observed. If you’d like to read more about play, you might want to go the section in the Reading Room on Play, or check out the Dog Play DVD or Play Together,  Stay Together about play between people and dogs. I’ll look forward to reading your comments, and not to mention welcoming Leo back to play with Willie.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: What a treat for it to be winter! If it’s going to be dark at night darn it, at least it can be crisp and pretty. And it is. I am loving the snow on the ground, although it is not much and melting fast. But it’s sunny and lovely and fresh and your boots crunch on the snow while the Chickadees call CHICKA-DEE-DEE-DEE from the woods. Time to take Willie boy and Tootsie girl on a walk. I hope you have some weather you can enjoy too.

Last week I posted a blog about giving our dogs more autonomy, and asked for comments about ideas on how to do so outside of working dogs on sheep. Many of the comments sent in response to that post are extremely helpful, and I encourage you to read through them. However, I know that time is short for many of us, so I’ve summarized some of the best ideas and some of my own this week.

First, as a preface, it is important to note that just like people, dogs vary tremendously in their desire for autonomy. Some dogs are extremely independent and others find too many choices burdensome. That’s why Willie stays in a crate when I’m gone. I am 100% sure that he is more comfortable in his ‘bedroom’ than being left loose in the house. When left loose he’s been a wreck when I returned home; no chewing or defecating, but wild-eyed and panicky. I believe that he perceives himself as “off-duty” in the crate, rather than responsible for alerting the household to noises and unexpected visitors. And who is to respond to his alerts if I am gone?  However… his is just the kind of personality that can gain confidence from having autonomy in other contexts. So, suggestion Number One: know your dog.

In addition, there are some contexts in which some dogs simply can’t be given free choice, whether it’s because they’d never coming back if running off leash in open areas, or you’re walking beside on a busy highway. Bottom line again: Know your dog.

With those caveats, here are some suggestions, especially for people whose dogs can never be off of a leash or line, for ways to give your dogs more choice.

1) Do ask: Ask yourself how often you can change from telling your dog what to do to, into asking your dog questions. Granted, there are plenty of times when we really do require our dogs to do what we say. (Thus, the title, “Do Ask, Do Tell.”) Example: I am not requesting Willie to respond when I say “Stand” (still). Sometimes it doesn’t matter if he listens to this cue, but other times it matters greatly (ie, several 150 pound battering rams (also known as sheep) about to run you over… it happens, believe me), so I need him to stop and stand still every time I say it. How would he know the difference between “you must” and “please” when only I know the context? I can’t imagine how you could mix and match the same cue to sometimes mean “you must” and other times mean “only if you feel like it.”

Job One then is to decide beforehand which cues you use that are not negotiable, and only use those when you expect a response. However, other cues aren’t necessarily that essential.

Here’s an example: When Willie and I play “Find It!” with his frisbee outside, after he’s had a good romp with it in his mouth, shaking and flipping it around. After a few minutes, I ask him to drop it so I can hide it for our Find It game. Although he’ll drop it on cue in other contexts, if we’re outside on the lawn he clearly wants me to throw it for him (I can’t cuz of his shoulder) rather than play Find It. So we’ve had a bit of a struggle when I say Drop It and he doesn’t. Actually, he’ll drop it, but when I reach for it he snatches it up in his mouth again. I’ve countered that by giving it right back to him when he does drop it, knowing that the best reinforcement for giving up the frisbee is getting it back again. I’ve also said “Okay, game over” in a cheerful voice and walked away if he won’t release the frisbee. That has helped, but not completely.

After I wrote the post on autonomy, I found myself watching him grab up the frisbee as I reached for it one morning and thought “Why not switch this around and give Willie the choice? It is a game for him after all.” So this time, rather than saying “Drop It,” I asked him if he was ready for me to take it. “Ready?” I said, and reached toward the disc. Nope, he wasn’t. He dipped his head and took the frisbee back in his mouth. “Okay, I said, no problem.” I stood in the same place, smiling and enjoying the sun shining through the clouds, and then said “Ready?” again. It was a sincere question. He was. When I reached for the toy this time, he watched me with shiny eyes, and stayed in place while I walked to the other side of the house and hid it for him to find. I can’t tell you if it made any difference to him, but it did to me, and that matters too. [Note: I can imagine a context in which Willie would have to drop an item for his own safety, say he picks up something poisonous. In this case I would say NO, which I use to mean absolutely cease and desist whatever you are doing this exact instant. I use it very rarely, and only when I really, really need it.]

2) Autonomy on Leash Walks: This is tricky, because no dog on a line can be truly autonomous. However, you can give him or her some choices:

- Several people noted that they let their dog set the pace. This is a great idea: who said that walking a dog meant keeping it from smelling interesting things? My favorite leash walk combines a) periods of brisk walking during which I get good exercise and Willie/Tootsie trots by my side ignoring all smells and b) the dogs setting the pace (and direction if possible) while I basically follow behind. If I’m getting antsy and Willie is still sniffing, I might say “Ready?” and as often as not he’ll stop sniffing and move forward. If he doesn’t, well then, he’s not ready. What’s important here is to be clear about which is which. Have a clear signal that means he’s following your lead, and a clear signal that means he’s in charge. Dogs learn the difference very fast.

- Explore the world with your dog by picking up things and asking your dog to sniff them. Try sniffing them yourself. I’ve seen dogs stop in their tracks and look you right in the eye as if surprised when you do this. “You? Smelling something? Really???? I didn’t know you could!” Of course, you know I don’t have a clue what your dog is thinking, but it’s fun to guess and even more fun to try to share their world a little bit. You can also hide treats in tree bark and later show your dog where they are. I learned this from Clarissa von Reinhardt’s book Chase, an excellent source of information regarding keeping a dog with you when off leash.

- Extra long leads or Flexi-lead-like leashes can also give your dog more choices. Like many trainers, I’m not a fan of flex-leashes in many contexts (training classes, vet visits, etc.) and don’t like that they teach the dog to habituate to a constant, although minor pulling sensation. That said, life just can’t always be perfect, and these kind of leashes can give lots of dogs some freedom when they would never have it otherwise.

3) Choices in the House: One commenter (thanks!) related this issue to environmental enrichment for wild animals in captivity. Several of the ideas mentioned included give your dog choices about the basics: two water bowls, several sleeping places, a range of toys, etc. You can also swap out toys: Willie must have 50 toys (sigh), but I only keep a limited number out at one time. That way they stay more interesting. Other variants of choices are asking your dog how they’d like to play. One reader has a dog who loves walks and ball play. She holds the leash in one hand and the ball in the other and does whatever he dog indicates with his nose. Great idea!

4) Fun with Food: Besides all the interactive toys that dogs can manipulate to get food, you can use the cheap, easy and always-enthralling method that I use every day with Tootsie. Because she would rather eat cat poop hidden like min-treasure chests in mulch, pine needles and straw, I let her come to the barn with us when I feed the sheep and cats. So I have taken to giving her a twice daily “treasure hunt” in a small fenced area that I call the “play pen.” I take a handful of kibble from her daily quota, and throw it as if I was scattering seeds. She then spends 10-15 minutes finding it, piece by piece, while Willie and I do the barn chores. She has a great time, her mouth doesn’t smell like cat poop, nor does she ingest heaven knows what. You may not have a fenced area, but you can do this inside too.

5) Honor your dog’s bark: This is a great reader comment that I completely support. Although we do have to be careful to not inadvertently reinforce barking, many dogs bark less if you acknowledge their alert signals and respond in some way to them. Willie could be a horrific barker, and I won’t pretend that there aren’t times he barks when I wish he wouldn’t, but like many of my client’s dogs, he calms down fastest if I acknowledge his barking. Just last night he lept up and began barking wild-eyed at the door to the garage. I went to him, asked him what was wrong and investigated. Sure enough, a side door was banging in the wind. I closed it, said “Hey, Willie, we’re fine,” and then took him into the living room. This won’t help with all dogs, but I envision lots of dogs screaming in frustration that their pack member is oblivious to their warnings or requests for assistance. Bottom line here: Barking isn’t always bad. (See more on this in Turid Rugaas’s book, Barking -  The Sound of a Language.)

5) Problem Solving: Some interactive food toys are in this category, but we can also ask our dogs to use their heads and solve other kinds of problems. Ask your dog to come to you with a barrier in between and help them learn to go around the side. Think of the world as an obstacle course and start asking your dog to go through, over and under objects both inside and outside of the house (with obvious concerns for safety). Some problem solving turns out to be a dog creating a new way of doing something. Here’s a great example: Finna’s owner wanted to teach her to  use a treadmill, but when Finna came up with a new way to do so, she was encouraged. Another reader has taught her dog the cue “Figure it out!” meaning: figure out yourself how to open this door, box, or get the food out of something. Problem solving at its best and too wonderful!

Another reader wrote about the body awareness work she is doing, in which a dog is asked to “Get on This” with all 4 paws, but ‘this’ is highly variable in terms of size, shape and surface. It’s the dog’s job to figure out how to get on and stay on. I love this kind of thinking… isn’t this what dogs who live freer lives would be doing all the time? Learning where one’s back paws are, learning body awareness of any area surely is as good for dogs as it is for people. Susan Garrett has a video on this, worth checking out.

6)  And finally, back to the nose: Engage your dog’s nose whenever you can, it truly seems to make them happy. I see people work so hard to keep their dogs from smelling things (“Don’t sniff that poop. Don’t sniff the garbage. Don’t Don’t Don’t…”) But it must be difficult for them to be restricted from using their best sense so often. We can turn that around easily. I often let the dogs sniff things that I bring home from the market, or anywhere else. They seem to enjoy it immensely. The easiest cue in the world, as a matter of fact, is “Sniff, sniff.” Just hold something out toward your dog and as he moves his head forward to investigate, say “Sniff, sniff.” It has broadened my sense of the world, and it feels (we all know I’m only guessing) like the dogs appreciate it. Several people who commented mentioned this too, so join the pack and give it a try!

That’s a start anyway, more ideas always welcome. By the way, one reader asked for a discussion about autonomy versus NILIF. Great question, and definitely worth discussing, but it deserves its own blog….

And here, just for fun, is one of my favorite comments about this topic: My dogs would probably say that one of their favorite autonomous times is deciding which dog bed in the sunny window or which forbidden couch to sleep on when we are at work. And how about the cat that insisted on being allowed to solve problems for himself? The perfect reminder that many of our companion animals still need dignity and choice in their life.

Thanks to all of you who added your smarts and experience to the requests of others for ideas. You came through, as usual, brilliantly.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm. Thank you all so much for your good wishes about the wedding. Jim and I are still floating on oxytocin, although in a buzz for the Texas Two-Step Tour coming up. (I’m writing this on Wednesday the 7th, but I’ll post on Friday as usual when I’ll actually be speaking in Texas.)

The cycle of life at the farm continues. All the lambs have been taken to market, never an easy day for us. But it helped that we just brought King Charles over to Redstart from his c0-owner’s farm to begin the cycle again. (He is named after KC Spaniels, because he seemed so tiny when he first arrived.) I’m happy to say the King Charles is doing is work with enthusiasm.

To keep it simple, we loaded King Charles with the help of the buck goat he had been living with. Buck boy was happy to walk on a halter up to the trailer and King Charles was happy to follow him. Loading was relatively easy because of the way cool trailer Jim built this summer that is easy in/easy out for the sheep. After loading it was only a few miles drive to the farm, and then Willie brought the ewes out to the front lawn as a magnet for King Charles. Much easier than backing the trailer through the mud into the sheep pen.

King Charles went to work right away, sniffing each ewe in turn. Here he is checking out Lady Godiva, who was far more interested in the grass than the new guy in town. (Notice the red color on his chest: It’s called marking paint and it allows us to know when each ewe has been bred, because it rubs off on their butts as he mounts them.)

Spot attracted much more than a quick sniff. He tried to mount her right away on the front lawn, but she wouldn’t stand still for him until later when they were back in the barn pen. Perhaps she just wanted a little privacy? I checked the pen an hour later, and both Spot and Buttercup had clearly been bred. Good boy KC, good boy.

How much autonomy does your dog have?  Willie’s work with sheep is  what motivates me to ask this question. As I mentioned earlier, Willie and I attended a sheepdog clinic 2 weeks ago with Patrick Shannahan, and the big take away for us was that, too often, Willie looks to me to tell him what to do while working sheep. It’s not that he doesn’t know what to do himself, he’s just in the habit of being dependent upon me to tell him before he takes action on his own. This was not a complete surprise to me, but I didn’t realize what a significant issue it was until I worked with Patrick.

I think I know why this has happened: First, Willie is a naturally biddable dog and dependent dog. I chose him over his 7-week old brother because Willie seemed to care deeply about where I was and what I was doing, while his sibling was busy independently exploring the universe. In spite of a long list of serious problems that developed in Willie’s youth (projectile diarrhea, a ridiculous level of sound sensitivity, a pathological fear of unfamiliar dogs and an extreme problem with impulse control) Willie has always been an especially responsive dog.

Here’s a recipe for a dog unwilling to act independently: Mix 1) Willie’s personality with 2) 14 months of recovery from a shoulder injury in which one is a virtual prisoner. After his injury in early February, we tried complete leash rest for all of Feb and March. When that clearly wasn’t enough, we decided on the surgery, but Jim’s sister was dying of ovarian cancer, so we put the surgery off until May. After the surgery he basically lived in his crate for 1-2 months, and then gradually was allowed to do carefully structured physical therapy, all under my control, until January of the next year. Gradually after that he was allowed limited amounts of free time, but basically we are talking a about a dog who lost all autonomy whatsoever for a significant period of his life, an inevitable response to his recovery. Don’t get me wrong, he got lots of mental exercise: I spent over 2 hours a day with him on PT (which he saw as games) and any trick he was allowed to do, but the fact is that he went from a dog who was outside off leash for hours a day to a dog whose every movement was controlled and monitored. He came out of it thrilled to be able to play with his toys again (14 months after the injury) and get his life back, but lost a lot of confidence working sheep.

My job with sheepdog Willie right now is to let him make a lot of decisions on his own. I’m providing feedback (“Yup, that’s right,” or “Nope, that was not the right decision.”) or just letting the work speak for itself. Willie has enough experience to know when things are going well, so often I’m just shutting up. (Never the easiest job for a dog trainer, right?) I can’t tell you how this is going to translate onto a trial field next year, but we are having the most fun I think we have ever had working together. It’s wonderful, just wonderful.

I’m relaying this story to you because I think the issue of autonomy is highly relevant to companion dogs everywhere. A journalist asked me once, “What do dogs want?” And I answered that, beside the obvious primal needs of food, water and shelter, dogs want 1) positive social interactions and 2) opportunities to make decisions on their own. Certainly too many dogs still suffer from a lack of social interaction, being tied up in backyards or kenneled by themselves until hunting season begins. But I suspect that many beloved dogs who are surrounded by love and attention suffer from a lack of freedom of choice. Of course, we can’t know for sure, we aren’t dogs, but sometimes it is useful to compare the needs of two different species, especially if they share so much and live together. As humans, being able to make choices about our lives is our most important possession. It is one of the things that we take for granted until we lose it, like water to drink and good health. Only when it is lost do we realize how precious it is. Ask prisoners about their time in confinement and they will tell you that the worst thing about it is having no autonomy. Want ice cream after dinner? Too bad, not being served. Want to stay up a little later one night and read? Sorry, lights out at 10. Most of us haven’t had that experience, but we can remember when we first had some control over our lives as teenagers. and the giddy joy of being free to make decisions on our own about what to do at any given moment in time.

It is certainly true that many companion dogs have little autonomy, and that is not always a bad thing. They go outside when their owners open the door, not having learned yet how to open doors on their own (thank heavens).  They are often on leashes, and therefore safe from being hit by car. But they are also unable to make decisions about where to turn, which way to go, and how long to spend on one spot. Their elimination behavior is controlled by us once they are house trained. Granted, gazillions of them pick up one of their numerous toys and decide when it’s play time by dropping it in our laps, and plenty of dogs have got their owners pretty well trained….

But, still, compared to feral or free-ranging dogs in other countries, some of our own companion dogs live relatively constrained lives. Granted, they often get better medical care than most people, organic food and acupuncture, but you could argue that they also lose something in the process. Author Ted Kerasote talks about this as well as anyone in his book Merle’s Door, and if you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. (And FYI, he has a new book coming out in February, Pukka’s Promise: The Quest For Longer Lived Dogs. It is beautifully written, extremely thought-provoking and summarizes five years of kick ass research. Here’s part of what I wrote about it for the back cover: “…one of the most important books written about dogs in a decade.” I’ll write a real review of it long before it is released.)

There are many ways dogs can have more autonomy as companions who can’t safely run free or work sheep: Some of them are small things, like asking a dog if he is “Ready” to do something or not. (See discussions about this in an earlier blog.) Leash walks can be directed by dogs as often as by their owners. (“Which way do you want to go?”) I think most important to dogs is to be able to explore the out of doors off leash. There’s nothing like a long walk in which a dog is allowed to run here, sniff there, and be free to explore at his or her own pace to make a dog healthy and happy. Nose games for dogs are great too: dogs get to play to their strengths and make decisions based on their natural abilities. I’ve seen many dogs who gained confidence and what only can be called joie de vivre after playing nose games with their owners.

I’d love to hear more ideas from you about how to give dogs more autonomy, especially ones who can’t safely run free in their home neighborhoods, or anywhere else for that matter. I expect a lot of dogs and owners too will profit from hearing your ideas.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm. I’ve recently heard from three of the people who adopted the kittens who were born on the farm this summer. All kittens are doing wonderfully. One kitten is best friends with the family dog, and cuddles up with him every night. One kitten is a fireball, and her owners adopted a second kitten to give the older resident cat a break! All the kittens seem healthy and happy, and it makes me happier than I can say that of the 12 feral kittens born in my and my neighbor’s barns, all 12 are in good homes, well taken care of and will be spayed or neutered to prevent more feral cats roaming the woods. Speaking of, it’s time for kitten Polly to get spayed too. Time flies.

And, oh yeah, one more piece of news: After twelve wonderful years of being each others best friend, Jim and I are getting married tonight. I’m thinking you’ll forgive me for taking the night off and staying off line…?  Happy Dance.

Here’s Willie this morning, driving the sheep away from me. His job here is to keep them going in a straight line.

Notice how the sheep are beginning to drift to the right. Rather than telling Willie to counter that, I stayed quiet and let him take care of it. You can see him already starting to shift to his right too.

The sheep are still drifting right, but Willie is continuing to counter.

Voila. Sheep moved back into the correct position. Willie did it all on his own, and I managed to keep my mouth shut. Will miracles never cease?

Yippee! After months of hard work (no kidding), Katie finally convinced our website that it could handle shipping to North America, Europe, Australia and Asia. We partnered it with a big discount on packages of books and/or DVDs for folks who would like to begin a “library.” We’ve had lots of inquiries from folks in Canada, the UK and Australia especially, so we’re sooooo happy to be able to accommodate!

You can get more information on the website. Meanwhile, here’s a photo of Willie moving up on “The Camel Sisters” from earlier this year. As soon as I post this we’re going out to work sheep some more. Oh boy.

Ignorance can be bliss. But it can also let bad things happen, and it grieves me to say that bad things might happen soon in my home state. In its wisdom, the legislature of the state of Wisconsin signed into law Act 169, which directs that dogs can be used to hunt wolves in our state. The wolf population in Wisconsin, having recovered naturally (no wolves were re-introduced) to over 800 individuals, were removed from the endangered species list in Wisconsin in January of 2012, and the legislature mandated that the Department of Natural Resources (DNR) establish rules and regulations for the hunt itself. These rules were developed under “emergency” rule-making process, that began in May and will allow the wolf hunt to begin in October of this year.

The hunt brings up many issues, from the hunt itself to how it is conducted, but the issue on the table right now is the rules and regulations that the DNR has established related to the use of dogs. Or lack of them. Let me start out by saying that, in my opinion, dogs should never be allowed to be used to hunt wolves. Period. In addition, any regulations about how the wolf population is controlled should be based on good, solid science and the recommendations of the people who have studied the species for decades. There are several extremely knowledgeable wildlife ecologists who have been studying wolves for years here, and it appears as though their knowledge and expertise was not a part of the decision-making process.

Changing laws take time, and right now the legislature isn’t even in session. What is highly relevant now is that the DNR was charged with creating rules and regulations about, among other things, how dogs would be used. Here’s what they had to say: Dogs can’t be used at night, and no more than six dogs could be used at any one time. That’s it. Nothing else. You can just take your dogs out there, set ‘em after wolves and see what happens. This, in spite of the fact that the law says dogs can be used to “track and trail” wolves, but not necessarily to do anything else (as in engage them in fights.)

The stunning lack of reasonable restrictions on the use of dogs is why I’ve been involved with a lawsuit filed by a group of Humane Societies and citizens, which has asked the courts for an injunction to stop the use of dogs in the hunt until, at a minimum, regulations can be formulated that at least decrease the inevitable suffering that will occur if dogs are set out after wolves. As structured now, it’s nothing less than state-sponsored dog fighting.

Supporters of using dogs to hunt wolves (mostly bear hunters) argue that dogs are essential to a successful hunt, that dogs will be trained to stop on command as soon as they locate a wolf, and that only single wolves will be pursued. Beyond this optimistic set of expectations, the behavior of the wolves themselves appears to be downplayed or ignored. Wolves are territorial animals that don’t take kindly to incursions by other canids. As a matter of fact, one of the arguments for the wolf hunt itself was from bear hunters whose dogs were killed by wolves. (Anyone hunting bear in Wisconsin with dogs can receive $2,500 in compensation if their dog is killed by a wolf, even if the hunt took place in an area targeted by the DNR as not safe for dogs due to previous attacks.) Up to 22 hunting dogs have been killed by wolves in just one year (2008). You can see the details, year by year, on the DNR’s own website. Wildlife ecologists are clear: Setting free-ranging dogs off after wolves, purposefully into known wolf territories (and during the mating season no less) is a recipe for severe injury, if not death, for man’s best friend.

That is why I have agreed to act as an expert witness in the lawsuit, arguing that first, at minimum, dogs MUST be kept on a line. The evidence is overwhelmingly clear: dogs ranging far from humans (bear & coyote hunting dogs run far afield of their handlers, usually with GPS collars on so that the hunters can locate them) are at risk of attack from wolves, while dogs close to humans are less so. I’ve also argued, as have others, that the regulations must include restrictions that only allow scent hounds–the dogs bred to track and trail–to be allowed to be used in the hunt. Rumors are flying about hunters bringing in a range of dogs, large dogs who were bred not just to locate prey but to fight with it. Some people are concerned that a breed restriction sounds like a breed ban, but rather it’s a mechanism to try to keep dogs from suffering. Even if all dogs truly were kept on leash (and the DNR argues that that would be difficult to enforce, which is a bit of an understatement), even in the best of circumstances, we all know that “stuff” happens, and that some dogs are going to end up off leash. So which kind should they be? A black and tan coonhound bred to track and trail, or a greyhound that someone picked up cheap from a track that is going to run after a moving wolf until it catches up? Or how about one of the dogs actually used to hunt and kill wolves in Kurkistan? Argh, the thought of it all is truly horrific.

The good news is that the court has granted us a temporary injunction, but it is only temporary. There is a hearing tomorrow, Friday the 14th, in which the state is asking the lawsuit to be dismissed. If it is not, then the issue will come up again at the Natural Resources Board Meeting in Eau Claire, Wisconsin on Sept. 26th. I expect to be there to testify that it is a violation of the state’s animal cruelty laws to rush into allowing dogs to hunt wolves without serious information gathering and input from a variety of sources. Several other dedicated folks have also been integrally involved, including wildlife ecologists and wolf experts Randall Jurewicz and  Richard Thiel and Adrian Treves, an expert on “co-existence & conflicts between people and wildlife. I don’t know if they will be at the NRB hearing, but they have been integral to the fight, led by our Alpha Female, Jodi Habush Sinykin from Midwest Environmental Advocates.

I realize that this issue is not relevant to many readers, but it’s too close to my heart and too much a part of my life right now, not to bring it up. I know that dogs are not allowed to hunt wolves in any other state in the US, but that there are a few places in the world where they are used. Given that wolves have been harassed and decimated for centuries all over the world, most places don’t have the luxury of talking about “wolf overpopulation.” It’s been a joy for many of us to watch our wolf population increase, even though, yes, as a livestock producer I do sympathize with the problems that can ensue from living with a large, pack hunting predator. It is absolutely appropriate that livestock producers be compensated for losses to wolves, and receive assistance in how to manage their animals to avoid depredation. And it is more than reasonable to use knowledge and science to manage the population. But what a sad, sad day for Wisconsin if a small contingent of hunters are allowed to exploit dogs by asking them to risk their lives as “man’s best friend.” All the hunters I’ve talked to (deer, small game and water fowl) are universally appalled at the idea, but it only takes a few. And there have been over 20,000 applications for wolf hunting licenses already turned in. Less than 2,000 will be issued, but how many will want to use dogs? I’d argue that one is too many. I’ll keep you posted, but if you live in Wisconsin, know that we’re living in a state that could be the first in the nation to allow dogs to be used to hunt wolves.

Here is my favorite photo of wolves, that I was able to take at Wolf Park in Indiana. Monty Sloan, the resident (and brilliant) photographer, let me borrow his kick ass telephoto lens, and I took this picture of these gorgeous animals just as the sun was going down. It was February, breeding season, so although we got to be up close and personal with individual wolves, no one but staff was allowed in with the pack. (This is the same time of year that the state of Wisconsin wants to  allow dogs to hunt wolves.) The wolves here are engaged in ritualized displays about who’s who in the pecking order. There would be nothing ritualized about the next steps if the canid on the bottom was a dog who just ran into the pack’s territory.

As if any of us REALLY knows “what it all means,” right? But thank you for your interesting and thoughtful comments about the previous post’s video of Willie and the “Get Back” signal. They were great.

I’ll cut to the chase about my own interpretation. Here’s the data: Willie tongue flicks when I ask him to back away from somewhere or something he wants to go toward: the outside of the house, into the car, or toward the toy. All of these have been taught using lots and lots of reinforcement with food and play and “life rewards,” like going outside after I say “Get Back” or getting the toy as soon as he backs up (But  I don’t reinforce every single response every single time once he has a cue down pat. That would be unnecessary in my opinion, not to mention completely impractical.) But back to the tongue flicks:

The only time in the video when Willie doesn’t tongue flick after “Get Back” is he is directly facing the sheep, who are backed into a corner. Two highly relevant facts that can help us interpret his behavior are:

One, I’ve never used food to teach it in that context (sheep), I have in all the others. Is it possible that he has a classically conditioned response to the cue because it so often resulted in food? I thought that was an interesting comment from a reader. I think this bears considering, but, see # Two….

Two, (and I think in this case MUCH more relevant) Willie dislikes what is called “contact” with the sheep (not physical, think metaphysical) and is stressed by face-to-face confrontations with them. Did you see how quickly he backed away (see second 120) when I said “Get Back” in that context?  That’s because he is relieved. In this case he’d be likely to tongue flick when I said “Walk Up,” not “Get Back.”

Thus, I am inclined to agree with those who argued that Willie’s tongue flicking is displacement behavior. In all the cases in which he tongue flicked, he wanted to go forward, but couldn’t, so he did something else. What he did could be interpreted as a sign of low-level anxiety, stress or frustration, or as appeasement behavior. I experimented (have you with your own dogs yet?) and looked for tongue flicks in a variety of contexts and after a variety of cues. Lie Down and Sit all got tongue flicks. Come forward and touch my hand, pick up the toy, come to me, find the toy, and high five did not.

Willie appears to tongue flick when he wants to move forward but is asked to do the opposite. Is he stressed? I could well be wrong, but I don’t think so, at least not in the way the term is usually used. “Stressed” on Willie’s face is easy to read, and involves pinched facial muscles, ears flat and a look in his eyes somewhere between Tippi Hedren in Hitchcock’s The Birds and Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs. Is he thrilled about being asked to back up? Nope.

Notice how immediately before and after the tongue flicks, Willie’s body stays loose, his mouth open and he generally has on what I call his happy face. Would he rather go forward at the door, into the car, toward his toy? Yes. Would I rather eat ALL the chocolate in the cupboard right now? Yes. Am I stressed because I am not allowing myself to do so, with some inner voice firmly saying “Trisha, Get Back?” No. That’s my interpretation. Now that we all know more, what do you think?

A few more points in relation to your comments, and a reminder of what a great exercise these videos can be for us all. Several people commented about Willie, at second 24, sliding under my legs toward Tootsie as I am about to lift her into the car. There were some interesting guesses about what is going on here, but I can tell you with confidence that Willie is taking the opportunity to sniff her butt “under the radar.” He still primarily pretends that she doesn’t exist (and vice versa). They can eat off of the same plate if offered to lick our dinner plates, and she can dance on his head when greeting us and he has no visible reaction. He is remarkably tolerant of her (and her him). But they still do not acknowledge each other, and sneak in sniffs in rare moments, only when the other’s head is busy.

Some of you also commented about Willie’s dash away from the car door after I put Tootsie inside (second 40) and interpreted it as fear. Not a chance in this case, he was running in joy to the barn. Willie has learned that unless other cues have occurred (Tootsie’s car harness on, his travel collar on), Tootsie going into the car crate means we are going to the barn to work sheep.  Even though I think he often finds it stressful, he appears to love working the woolies as much as life itself.

And one last quick comment, just by way of explanation: Willie’s Stay signal means “Stay in place (not posture) until I give you a release.” Willie’s Wait signal means “Pause momentarily and then do what you want.” If he is still not moving once I’m ready for him to move on, I’ll say “Okay” just to get the ball rolling again. But it’s his choice, Wait just means pause. If I want him to not move until I give him a release I say Stay. I find that useful, myself. You?

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: We began last weekend with a rough day on Friday. Willie was entered into our second “big” sheepdog trial on Friday, and did the worst he’s ever done. It was, granted another really tough trial, with a tough course, tough sheep and with wind and rain blowing into my face. Willie improved tremendously on our second run, but I did the worst I’ve ever done and made two ridiculous mistakes. Ah well. But then we gloried in a perfect fall weekend: blue sky, dry air, ideal temperature &light breeze. I’m talking calendar cover weather, here, and boy did we deserve it after such a brutal summer. I planted asters and dug weeds and cooked, Jim cut down tree-sized Ragweed to help my allergies, finished a new wagon to transport the sheep and we generally puttered and watched sports on TV and relaxed. Heaven for us all.

Here’s an interesting video for you to analyze. Katie and I were taping one of my favorite signals, “Get Back.” I use it in a variety of contexts, and can’t imagine life without it. You can see some of the ways I use the cue on the video below, and I’ll talk more later, if you’d like, about why I love the cue so very much.

After we taped, Katie and I were watching the video and I said “Oh wow, did you see how he [---] right after [---] happens? (Fill in the blanks!)

And so, that’s your assignment (should you decide to accept it Agent 99): Watch this video and tell us what we might have found interesting in it. I’m giving no more instructions than that… Who knows then what you might find that we didn’t! I’ll jump in early next week (and will answer comments sooner) about what we found so interesting, and as importantly, what we think it might mean. I’m guessing that this could lead to a very interesting discussion!

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Willie clearly lost some confidence after working the almost immovable sheep at the trial last weekend, so I’ve been working on building it up. I’ve been encouraging him to come up, come on, keep them doggies moving… (This is where you burst into song, singing “Raw-hiiiiiiide” at the top of your lungs.) I’ll let you know how it’s going. Poor Mr. Willie boy, you know how much I love him; and that includes knowing who he really is: A slightly crazy, people-loving, hyper-reactive, sound-sensitive, fun-loving creature who lacks confidence in a variety of settings. I’ve always known he’ll never be a national level sheepdog trial competitor, but I love him more than I can say, and love him even more than that for trying so hard.

Here’s a photo of me and Willie a friend took (thanks Rich!) several years ago when we were at a sheepdog clinic (the first time I was able to let Willie greet unfamiliar dogs.. what a huge step that was for him!) It’s hard to imagine that he was out of the game for over a year and a half since then!

I originally called this post “Barbie’s Not Always a Nice Girl,” but then I thought about what the title would look like on Google and the kind of people who’d click on it. Hmm, not really my “brand,” as they say.

I thought though, that you’d be interested in yet another interaction between Barbie, my cantankerous, lead ewe and Willie. Barbie, as you may recall, is the only sheep who has ever seriously challenged Willie. She won a few times when she had three-week old lambs this spring, literally chasing Willie away, her anvil-like head down and ready to bash Willie into the ground. He ran away like a frightened chipmunk, because Barbie was serious, and because we all know she can be a witch, and because well, he’s just not the bravest dog in the world. That’s partly why I love him so much, because he’s not perfect and neither am I, and he still tries his best, and when I’m being who I want to be, so do I.

Here are photos I took just a few minutes ago (Willie is still panting rapid fire at my feet.) First we found the sheep lolling in the shade of the woods on a steep hill between the barn and the main pasture. Barbie was lying by herself under a dead tree.

Soon after I took this photo she grudgingly got up (who could blame her? — it’s mid day and hot outside) and trotted down the hill with the others toward the barn. Willie picked them up (eventually, more on that later) and we moved them into the Orchard pasture and practiced driving a little bit.

In this next photo you can see, as is often the case, Barbie being the last to move away from Willie and turning  her head toward him. I imagine her saying something like “Your mother eats kitty litter.”

Willie stood his ground, good boy, and here’s the result: Barbie turned away and began walking forward.

You might ask yourself at this point: “I get the Barbie and Willie title, but what’s with the mad dogs and Englishmen in the title? Simple: Remember “mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun?” (Words in an old song for those of you not familiar.) We were working in the noonday sun, and I’m wondering if I had a mad dog. Not “mad” as in with rabies, but “mad” as if angry.

We all know how often people wrongly assume their dog is being disobedient because they were “mad” at them. Usually it’s confusion or mis-understandings or pain or fear or anything beside the fact that some dog is ticked off at its owner. But, here’s my question to you: Can it EVER be true, even if rarely? Are dogs ever truly irritated by their owners, especially while doing difficult work? I wondered this while I was working/photographing Willie for this post. He behaved atypically: he didn’t listen as well, he seemed slow and disconnected. But more than that, he gave me a look a few times that was hard to interpret as anything but some canine equivalent of a finger. There are several reasons he could have been off his game: We’ve been working on driving for an upcoming trial, and it’s difficult, tiresome work. I think it’s stressful to dogs (constant whistle signals given out 2-3 to a second), and especially to dogs like Willie who don’t like being in constant contact with the sheep.

In addition, during the “photo shoot” the sheep got all the way back to the barn before Willie could round them up again, in part because I was busy taking that first photo of  Barbie. It’s hard work running down the steep forest floor, going into the small, enclosed area of the barn and forcing the sheep back up the hill. He wouldn’t have had to do it if I’d been paying more attention. Hummm.

It’s far more likely that Willie was tired from our work of the past few days, or maybe his shoulder was hurting. But that look he gave me started me thinking: Although most attributions of anger as a motivation for disobedience are undoubtedly incorrect, are they always? Have you had an experience in which you had good reason to believe that your dog was irritated by your behavior? I’m curious.

MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Today is all about wrapping up work and leaving for the WWSDA herding dog trial up in northern Wisconsin this weekend. Willie and I run in our first big Pro-Novice course  against some of the best dogs and handlers in the country. The outrun will be 250 to 300 yards, the drives through 2 drive panels ridiculously far away and over my skill set, and the sheep have never been worked by dogs until the day before. If we get numbers (ie, a score) versus letters (ie DQ for Disqualified or RT for Retired) I’ll be satisfied. If we get in the top half (there are about 42 entries) I’ll be thrilled. If we do any better than that I’ll be over the moon. Tonight I’m going to work Willie when it’s cooled down, and just ask him to do some simple, easy outruns. Then tomorrow he won’t work all day, so he should get a good rest. He deserves it.

I know several of you compete in a variety of dog-related sports, from Agility to Sheepdog Trials. You’ll understand then when I say that all I really want is to not let my dog down.  I have worked with dangerous dogs for decades, but standing at the post about to run my dog is a million times more nerve wracking to me. I am basically a lousy competitor because I get so nervous, but yet some strange compulsion is getting me back into the sport. So cross your paws that I don’t throw up at the post in front of all the other handlers, and am able to keep my senses about me enough to handle my good dog Willie as well as he deserves.