I considered calling this blog “I smell dead people,” but decided that the phrase, if searched on google, might add some folks to the conversation we’d rather avoid. However, it is actually a perfect title to a great book, released tomorrow, titled What the Dog Knows: The Science and Wonder of Working Dogs. Written by Cat Warren, an associate professor in English at North Carolina State University, it reads like a novel/memoir/mystery/thriller, and I’m going to read it again, every page of it. Here’s the first paragraph:
I’ve grown more comfortable working with the dead. With parts of them, really. A few teeth, a vertebra, a piece of carpet that lay underneath a body. One of my German shepherd’s standard training materials is dirt harvested from sites where decomposing bodies rested. Crack open a Mason jar with that dirt, and all I smell is North Carolina woods–musky darkness with a hint of mildewed alder leaves. Solo smells the departed.
Good writing is one of life’s greatest pleasures, and this book is full of it. In just the first paragraph the author has hooked us, introduced us to her working cadaver dog, compared their sensory abilities, and established “place” for the rest of the book. Oh my. Dr. Warren has good reason to know her way around a phrase, she teaches writing after all, but she is also a cadaver dog handler, and by the end of the book she has worked with Solo for years, and has just brought home a new prospect, a spunky female GSD named Coda.
However, Dr. Warren is dead honest (pun not intended but appreciated upon reflection) that she initially had a lot to learn about working with a cadaver dog. Her first hours with her new German Shepherd puppy, Solo, were not infused with ocytocin. She didn’t like him. He bit and lept and growled at just about everything. Cat’s former dog was a “whimsical, gentle” soul, and the whirling dervish puppy she came home with did not feel like a good replacement. Cat had done due diligence by reserving a male from a great line and a responsible breeder, but ended up driving home with a litter of one in her car. She knew that a singleton pup might cause problems, and indeed, Solo not only came with no bite inhibition or frustration tolerance, but he made it clear early on that he wanted little to do with most other dogs.
But, he loved to work. He was driven, in the way that all good cadaver, search & rescue, and working military dogs need to be. Cat learned, as I remember sheep dog trainers telling me early on, that “too much” energy/drive/ambition could be channeled through good training, while too little was simply not fixable. “You can corral it or damp it down, but you can’t put heart and drive in a dog that never had it,” someone told me once.
I thought of that phrase, and Solo, this morning while Willie and I moved the flock into a temporarily fenced pasture. The sheep didn’t want grass, they wanted the apples that had fallen in the woods, and I had to send Willie into a thicket to bring them back. I couldn’t see the sheep most of the time, but eventually I saw a few heads silhouetted at the top of the rise through the trees. I had to guess where Willie was, and signaled him to flank around the sheep to bring them to me. Time passed. No sheep appeared. No Willie appeared. More time passed. The Robins chirped warning calls and a squirrel chattered above me, but otherwise the woods were silent. I began walking up the woods trail, and finally heard leaves crunch behind me and found Willie trotting up to me, eyes searching, body conflicted. “What? What should I do?”
Part of why I love Willie so much is because he cares deeply about me, or any other person for that matter. He puts his head in the hollows of stranger’s necks and moans in happiness. He looks at me constantly, always asking “What, what should I do?” It makes him a joy to train, like paddling a canoe down a river that is taking you in the right direction all by itself. It also makes him a less-than-great sheep dog, because he looks to me far too often, and doesn’t like to think for himself. In other words, he is the exact opposite of Solo, and of the personality that is necessary for many kinds of working dogs. Every working dog handler wants a dog who is trainable, but they all want a dog who is driven, DRIVEN, to find the ball, get over the barrier, solve the problem. On their own. Instruction manual not necessary to be included.
You’ll learn about all these dogs and more in What the Dog Knows. I love how the author is honest about her fears, successes, and failures as she and her dog discover the world of working dogs, from the mostly female-dominated search and rescue field to the male dominated world of police dogs. She also is dirt honest about the devastating effect of her dad’s death on her work with Solo, her fears about her ability to do the work, and her conflicts with being both a dog handler and an academic. I loved following her on her journey, and sharing in her courage to tell us about it.
The book stimulates a number of questions and conversations, from 1) why don’t people understand that dogs need practice to use their nose with expertise (note most [all?] of the studies done on a dog’s ability to detect odors done on dogs who have never been trained in scent work) to 2) do dogs understand that the scent of a cadaver means that they have found a dead person? (much less understand the concept of death to begin with). (Bloodhounds seem to know something, Cat describes a bloodhound handler whose dogs would run away from the smell of a dead body.) I always feel that I have a great deal to learn about scent, as someone who doesn’t work with dogs who use their noses, but if you’d like to learn a bit more about it (and how you can smell better than you think), you might want to watch my seminar, Lost in Translation: How Dogs Use Sight, Sound and Smell to Communicate.
Here’s my question to you, related to dogs who work independently versus dogs who are more dependent. Which do you like best? A dog who hangs on your every word and is a dream to train, or one who is more like a bottled hurricane, and you provide the bottle. I, of course, ideally would like the best of both, but I’m not foolish enough to ever expect it. You?
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Sad news: Ralphie died. Seventeen lambs, and it just had to be the one imprinted on me, who followed me everywhere and wouldn’t go up the hill to the pasture until I took him up day after day, and sat beside the flock with him until he finally began to investigate the area where his brother and sister were ripping grass with their tiny, little baby teeth. His illness came on seemingly instantly, and I spent much of one late night with his head in my lap, doing T Touch on his ears and body, giving him fluids and what medicine I had. Most sheep would hate that kind of close physical contact with a human, but Ralphie could never get enough petting and handling from me, and he seemed to appreciate it. He died early the next morning, before I could even get the vet out. He appeared to die of pneumonia, although I suspect that other factors were involved. All the other lambs are thriving, although I now check them obsessively, more often than usual. It is most likely that never having a real mother set him back, even though he got a good dose of colostrum. He always did seem to be behind the eight ball somehow. Perhaps his mother knew that the moment he was born, who knows.
Ralphie died over a week ago, his death was too raw for me to write about it then, so I’m long past the worst of it. But I miss him, and am still in awe of the responsibility of life and death that people who raise animals accept onto their shoulders. I got some of my grief out this Sunday by attacking plants–I ripped up huge amounts of poison ivy, which has been spreading for years under a spruce tree, and was threatening to take over a hedge and a peony bush. Mostly it spreads underground, as my arms and back will attest, from ripping and pulling for hours yesterday. Regrettably, while doing so I ran into a nest of wasps, either Polistes or Yellowjackets, can’t tell you which, cuz I was running like a crazy person toward the house yelling “Jim! Jim!” As if he magically could have made them go away. After examining my stings and feeling quite sorry for myself, I pulled more poison ivy, spent over an hour washing tools, clothes and body with anti-itch soap, and then spent a few hours carefully removing the world’s worst burr producing plant from the woods above the house. I should’ve taken a photo, but I was too busy picking hundreds (thousands?) of tiny, little green burrs out of my T-shirt, socks, and. Better than taking them out of Willie!
Here’s the healthy patch of poison ivy that I haven’t gotten out yet. It might just have to wait til spring.
Here’s a more benevolent ivy on the other side of the spruce, I believe it is Woodbine. (But you can see more poison ivy beside it. Sigh, my work is cut out for me.)
Kat says
Clearly, I’ll be heading to the bookstore this afternoon. Between the first paragraph and your review I can’t wait to get my hands on this book.
As for your question, Ranger probably comes as close to the ideal balance between looking to me and independence I’ll ever see. He seems to have a very clear mental picture of what each of us does best and assume that we’ll each do our part. If he gets a thorn in a paw he doesn’t ever try to get it out himself he brings it to me for removal. If I try to take the wrong trail back when we’ve been out hiking and I say it’s time to go he won’t let me go that way. He loves training and learns fast but he doesn’t hesitate to let me know if he knows better. At a little fundraiser event he was doing the tricks course and came to the place where he was supposed to put his paws up on a box. He looked at the box and decided no way would it hold him. I agreed and told him he could walk on to the next trick but he refused and stood there for a minute considering before dropping into a down with his paws draped over the box. In the context his job was to do this trick but he couldn’t the way it was set up so he found an alternative solution. Finna, of course, is the hurricane that I’m still trying to bottle. I’ve never had a dog that looks to me constantly, so I can’t really say whether I’d like it (no data). It’s probably telling that every dog I’ve ever had has been of the more independent nature since I suspect that we tend to foster those characteristics we most value; not that you can make a dog something that he is not but you can certainly bring out the characteristics that are already there to whatever degree.
Marguerite says
So sorry about Ralphie! I’ve cried over gerbils, so goodness knows, I empathize! Sadly (and I’m plagiarizing someone,I’m sure), those who work with livestock eventually experience dead stock.
I’m going to pass your recommendation over to some SAR handlers who belong to our dog club. They took some cadavar dogs down to a “natural” cemetery in Florida someplace and one handler said the dogs just look stunned for the first several minutes. Most of them only trained with small samples, and here was a field of shallow graves.
Lisa Giesick says
Great blog as always, Trisha.
I am so sorry about Ralphie. I am glad he had you for his short life.
Love & Aloha, Lisa
Nan_CC says
Thank you for letting us know about the new book! I can’t wait to get my hands on a copy. A fascinating subject. And I’m so sorry to hear about your little Ralphie’s death. It is so sad to shoulder the responsibility, oh yes! But it’s a sad, empty place if one doesn’t have animals around, I find. Friendly editor here, if you haven’t already noticed it: in the paragraph beginning “However”, the last sentence: “Solo not only came with no bite inhibition…but he made it clear early on that he wanted [to] little to do with…”
Stephanie says
Great post! I just recently started taking Nose-work classes with my 9 year old beagle mix and we are having a ball! I am a trainer, but I’ve focused on obedience and behavioral issues – learning about scent work has been fascinating so far. I will be checking out What the Dog Knows, sounds like a fantastic read.
To answer your question, I love the bottled hurricanes! My 6 year old beagle mix is definitely a very driven, very intense, problem solving control freak – and I love it. I find that I learn so much more about training, dog behavior and myself from the Tasmanian devils than the sweet, ready to please pups. I certainly appreciate a lovely, easy to train dog – but give me the rebels without a cause any day of the week!
Trisha says
Thanks Nan_CC! And thanks for all your sympathy re Ralphie. (Marguerite, I love the comment about ‘livestock.” Love might be an inappropriate term, let’s just say I greatly appreciate it!
Rose C says
“You can corral it or damp it down, but you can’t put heart and drive in a dog that never had it.” I love that.
Though I named my 2 dogs after our parents (‘Ludy’ after our Mom, Ludy, and ‘Dani’ after our father, Danny), I have always likened Ludy’s personality to that of my sister’s and Dani’s, to that of mine. Ludy is sweet, the softer, weaker dog who immediately gets up to follow me around to any corner of the house and in off leash fenced areas, would sniff around and pace herself to the point of being oblivious to whatever is going on around her. Dependent on me, and totally clueless out there — that’s what Ludy is (not to worry, my sister doesn’t read your blog, she isn’t really a ‘dog person’). Dani, on the other hand, is also sweet but stronger, more agile, more enganged, and more driven. A hurricane indeed — though I wish I have better knowledge and intuition and skill on how to provide the bottle for her drive. She looks often to me for directions, but also has a mind of her own. When she looks at me for direction, I often feel inadequate that I can direct her only with my limited knowledge or ability. She has great potential in training (one major reason I kept her when she was a puppy) though I feel I could have invested more time and effort to learning how to direct her drives. I’m working on it now though. My dogs are always teaching me things I would never have learned (or cared to learn) if they are not in my life.
Rose C says
Oh by the way, the news on Ralphie saddens me deeply. From the stories of him that you shared, I have learned to love that sheep.
Also, now that I’ve realized how much work a farm is, I’ve decided to just aim for a spacious backyard for me and my dogs and our (not-in-that-near) future dogs.
Beth with the Corgis says
Poor Ralphie, and poor you! So heartbreaking.
Having been blessed for several years with healthy dogs, our Madison had a spectacularly textbook grand mal seaizure about 2 months ago, followed by another about a month after the first. At nearly nine she is well past the age for the typical onset of epilepsy, and before now she’s never so much as twitched. All her many tubes of blood work were perfect, and her breeder (who always gets back within a day unless she’s not at home, bless her) confirms that there are exactly 0 seizing dogs in her family tree; since the breeder has her litter brother at home, and since Maddie had one litter before we got her that would be about 5 years old by now and are all owned by people known to the breeder, epilepsy seems extremely unlikely. That means the most likely cause of her seizing (at least according to my research) is a tumor. Long story short, I have found it very difficult to come and tell stories about my own dogs. In the day-to-day, I am fine with it, but sitting down to type out tales about them brings me fits of sadness so I’ve mostly stayed away.
That said, I have one dog (Maddie) who has the perfect drive level for a pet— she is always up for a game or walk, but rarely pesters for things to do and is just as happy to stay home and snuggle. She prefers not to make decisions at all, if she can avoid it. And I have one dog (Jack) who is very drivey, and smart, and no amount of activity is enough for him. I love him to death and forever feel guilty that we bore him to tears; many an evening I have been reading or watching tv only to look down and see him lying in the living room, chin on the ground, eyes wide open, two or three balls neatly lined up by his muzzle, hoping that there will be yet another game tonight (teaching them that quietness is what brings on the games is almost worse than dealing with the barking, I think). The end of every walk is met with at least two bouts of leash-biting and flipping onto his back in protest, and when we take him hiking he always looks pleadingly up every trailhead when we finally head back toward the car.
Even though the average-drive dog is a better fit for our home, I can’t help but love and admire that never-ending spark. I like a dog who has strong opinions and is eager to express them. I personally prefer high-drive, but it does leave me feeling somewhat inadequate, and I always feel that I’ve wasted Jack’s talents, though he is generally happy enough and fun-loving.
Katy says
So sorry to hear about Ralphie.
I have one dog who wants me to solve everything and is incredibly eager to please and one who is far more independent. 80% of the time, I prefer the independent temperament of my girl. I love watching her solve problems by herself, particularly when I’m not part of the problem. Of course, the downside of her independent and analytical mind is that she knows how to open the gate, open her crate door, open tupperware without leaving any telltale tooth marks… She once managed to pull the leash I was using to clip the crate door closed to the inside of the crate and pull hard enough to break the welds holding the sides together, pull the whole side inwards and creep out underneath. She then went through the vinyl on one side of the window AC unit and out the window, somehow through the fenced area (no gate at that house) and off the dock to swim 50 yards – all so that she would not miss out on a kayak trip. But stuff like that is what makes life with Claire-dog interesting.
Neilee says
I enjoy working with dogs that are always looking to me. Currently I have three dogs, all of which from different groups or categories of dogs. Lucy my shepherd mix is always looking to me for direction and is incredibly smart and easy to train. I have a springer spaniel who is a trained bird dog. When she works she is very independent. We joke that once you let her go she’s on autopilot. She looks to me more for attention and affection, but when it comes to doing her job, she’s pretty independent. And then there’s Brody my detroit mutt. He’s brindle and slender, but probably has some pit in him based on where he’s from. He was a stray on the streets when he was rescued. He is completely independent. My only saving grace is that he is extremely food motivated. My fall back to “Brody, here!” is “wanna cookie?” It works 100% of the time even though he is rewarded with a treat for coming to both. The word cookie just breaks through all the earwax and cobwebs like nothing else. 😉
Alexandra says
I’m so sorry to hear about Ralphie.
I really enjoy your book reviews and this is another one I will have to check out.
My border collie, Jagger, is a a dream come true in terms of work ethic, drive, heart, and bidability. He’s also sweet at pie and loves all people and other dogs. His personality could be considered a little needy, ok a lot needy… if he had his way I think he’d like to be worn as a hat… but I think it’s part of his charm. I really like a dog that hangs on every word and is always ready for something to do. That said, Jagger was a challenging puppy. I think it is because I had two previous dogs that had taught me a lot about building a partnership with a dog that I was able to bring out Jagger’s best qualities. He was endlessly energetic, intense, willful, smart and kind of quick to use his teeth when he first came home at 8 weeks. He would have been a disaster in a pet-only home where he didn’t have some kind of job to do every day (we do primarily agility & tricks, but I also run daily and have dabbled in herding)
Patricia Barlow-Irick says
Oddly enough, I have a guest from the Czech Republic staying for a few months. She has one of the 27 cadaver dogs certified to work in her country. He does wilderness air scenting and dead-people-in-a-lake (his favorite). She said the first time she took her dog out and about on a walk, it found a skeleton!! She and her dog are here and I am getting to learn something about this type of working dog. She is learning to train mustangs in NW New Mexico at Mustang Camp.
Robin Jackson says
So sorry to hear about Ralphie! I have enjoyed reading of his many adventures. It was a short life, but one much filled with affection. My thoughts are with you.
Robin Jackson says
The book sounds very interesting! As to independent vs dependent dogs…our extended family has always had border collies, so I grew up with a strong preference for independent dogs. I’ve mentioned Tulip, the dog who refused to read–she’s very much that type. She always knows what Must Be Done, and while she’s happy to work cooperatively in a team with people, the goal has to be one that she approves of.
When I first decided to get a service dog, the program suggested doing a temperament test on our two pet dogs, Tulip and Dilly, because otherwise we’d have three dogs in the house. The first test was a simple one–what does the dog do when he/she is bored? Because a lot of service dog work involves lying calmly near people and NOT being the center of attention.
Tulip failed in the first 45 seconds. While the director was explaining the program to me and we were both studiously ignoring Tulip, she poked me with her nose, pawed the director, then paced around the room, stopping at each door and window to see if there was any way to open it. She paid no attention to what I was doing, and eventually did manage to open one of the windows and stuck her head out! Which the director shut right away. Frustrated in that, Tulip went back to patrolling the room, stopping again at each window to stare out and surreptitiously try the latch when she thought we weren’t looking.
Dilly, on the other hand, spent the first two minutes sitting and staring intently at me, hopeful that something interesting was going to happen. When nothing did, he gave a big sigh and lay down in front of my wheelchair, his head on my foot, and went to sleep. Which apparently earned him very high marks. 🙂
Dilly has a strong work ethic, but like your Willie, prefers someone else to set the goals. He’s delighted to engage in whatever I’m engaged in, including afternoon naps. By choice he spends 90% of his time within 2 feet of me, even with an available dog door. And as soon as I move, he trots happily along, interested in seeing what WE are going to do next.
With my life situation having changed so much (I am a partial quad, wheelchair dependent, with a progressive neuropathy something like MS, but not MS), Dilly turns out to be exactly the kind of dog I need. He is the king of context cues, but he gets them by paying a lot of attention to me and what I’m doing. He is a comfortable companion, an enthusiastic helper, and a worldclass bed warmer. At 20 I could never have imagined preferring a dog like him to one like Tulip, but at 60 we are perfectly matched.
So sometimes the kind of dog we “like” changes simply because our own lifestyles change. It’s been an interesting journey.
Vicki in Michigan says
I am so sorry for your loss. Ralphie was a good boy.
You know that goats eat poison ivy, right? I believe it is the case that the poison ivy has no effect on them. Maybe someone you know has a goat or two that you could borrow? (I don’t know if they’d like the plant with the nasty burrs…..)
Cat Warren says
So many thanks to Patricia McConnell for this amazing review and commentary on my book, which opens up so many questions and discussions. But oh my goodness, that sense of relief and fulfillment when I read something like this, and say, “She got it! She understood what I was trying to write!” I’ll post tomorrow some of my thoughts on these interesting questions — when I’m not rushing off to teach. Darn students. (: But it’s fascinating reading people’s thoughts, as well. I’ll going to love discussing some of the work with the readers of this blog, whom I consider some of the most knowledgeable and multi-faceted of any group out there in dog blog land. I get so much out of what Patricia posts, and then reading the comments, I find out even more.
LisaH says
Interesting how many posters have identified having one of each – independent and dependent dogs. I too have one of each, and though I love the different qualities in both, my preference is for more independence. Lola is never more than a foot away from me, watches the world go by or sleeps if you do not engage her, and can make me crazy in training as she does not think for herself. She will instantly do whatever she has been trained to do, but does not offer or improvise or problem solve. She is also a super cuddled and loves all dogs and people making her easy to take anywhere. Java on the other hand is a hurricane in a bottle and I love it! He would be called a “busy” border collie as he is always in motion, playing with his toys, improvising games, wanting action, and definitely problem solves. He is also very sweet, super easy to train, watches me constantly to anticipate the next activity, he is incredibly empathic, very expressive, and just always interesting to me. And I have the guilt others have mentioned in that I may not be interesting or active enough some days to meet his needs.
SarahA says
I like the bottled hurricane dogs, as might be guessed by my breed of choice, Staffordshire Bull Terriers. Scent work is interesting, and is something I’m especially intrigued by right now, as I’ve recently started in a brand new dog sport that is just starting up, called Barn Hunt. In Barn Hunt, the dogs search for rats, which are safely enclosed in PVC tubes, and hidden in a maze of hay bales. Also hidden are tubes which contain rat bedding, but no live rat; and empty tubes.
One of the things I enjoy about the sport is the chance to watch dogs just doing what comes naturally to them. This is certainly true for my dogs, who are natural hunters, but a surprising variety of dogs really enjoy this activity. It also gives us a chance to work as a team at something the dogs would choose for themselves, and I get a chance to better learn what they try to communicate. And they get to practice using their noses.
A couple days ago, my bitch got to run the first Senior level course on the west coast, and this run was particularly interesting. The level before Senior is Open, in which there are 2 rats hidden. In Senior there are 4, and my girl had never encountered that many before. When we were in the ring, I was starting to worry, as for the first minute or so, it seemed that she was just rushing around frantically, and finding nothing. I was a bit surprised that with 4 rats, she couldn’t find any! Then she started to alert on them, and it went quickly, until she tried to leave after the 3rd, and I had to call her back to find the 4th.
On watching the video of the run, I saw what she did. In that first minute, she repeatedly goes to where the rats were hidden. She apparently spent the first minute locating all the heavy rat scent, and then when she was pretty sure she had them all located, she started uncovering them.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0LIvrwFC8E
Clever girl!
Peter E says
I’d like to echo Neilee above as to the character needed in a successful hunting dog. Our Lab Steve learned to hunt upland birds by tagging along with me and being paired with a more experienced Lab during his first two seasons. He learned what we were after from some early successes, and how to go about it from his hunting partner. Since then my role has become mostly bringing Steve to likely spots, watching him put his nose to work, recognizing his signals that there is game around – and trying to stay close enough to be in on the action when he finds a bird and puts it to flight.
When he finds bird scent, Steve will look to me for direction very occasionally if he’s a bit unsure where to head, and then he’ll follow signals (left, right, back, forward) when I hold out an arm to indicate direction. But when I hold out both hands to my sides, shrug, and say “I dunno?” he’s right back to task on his own. I’d describe our success together as the ultimate partnership between dog and human in pursuit of something that neither one could do nearly as well on his own. This wouldn’t be possible if Steve were always looking to me for direction; I just don’t have his nose. And let’s face it: The lack of opposable thumbs will keep Steve from ever driving himself to a hunting area. Canine independence – and the confidence that springs from that – are essential components for the hunting dog. And that’s really what makes it so much fun for the two of us.
Cathy Balliu says
” the responsibility of life and death that people who raise animals accept onto their shoulders”
I love this line. We are the stewards of the earth – the ones who chose to nurture creatures for the better good. And it is so hard because you feel like you have an overdose of oxytocin and every life and death is so huge. But if you didn’t have the oxytocin, you wouldn’t care as much and you would be diminished for it. You learn to build walls around your feelings so you can cope with the responsibility of care and the sometimes unavoidable loss. I think of the TV show MASH – army field doctors and nurses who sometimes only had moments to spend on an injured soldier before that one was whisked away, replaced by the next shrapnel case or broken limb. And having the knowledge that there would be so many things out of your control. You can’t save them all. But it’s the desire to try to that makes us the good stewards, the compassionate ones who still cry a little or a lot over a dead sheep. I’m sorry for your loss, Trisha.
LisaW says
I’m sorry about Ralphie. He had a good albeit unusual life. Almost like he was a calf in sheep’s clothing.
We have never had “working” dogs in the literal sense. Our first dog had the amazing combination of independent and interdependent. She had good instincts about almost everything (thankfully, because we had no inkling about the things we know now) and could just as easily hang out and rest or make sure things were in order or entertain herself for hours. She knew who to be a little worried about (people and other animals) and who got a pass. We didn’t teach her any of this, she developed her role and rules that were perfectly appropriate to us as a family unit and our adventures out in the world. I still marvel at her sound nature and intellect. We were so very lucky.
Fast forward thirty odd years and three dogs later, and our two current dogs are mostly interdependent. Some of it is due to their physical challenges, some of it due to their behavioral quirks, and some due to the kind of life we lead now. One dog is more happy-go-lucky and the other is more worried the sky is falling. The latter dog, Olive, is also a bit of a hurricane and whip-smart. I wonder if there is a connection between dogs who have some issues and their mental acumen. So many dogs I hear about that have some anxiety or reactiveness are also too smart for their own good and present a different set of challenges. It’s like their intellect (or drive) makes it hard for them to make sense of the rest of the world and they often act in response to that tension — something akin to a dog savant.
Trisha says
Kat, I love Ranger’s solution to the box problem. He sounds almost scary smart (but absolutely delightful!). What a perfect combination of independence and partnership.
Beth with Corgis: So sorry to hear your news, but love hearing about that spark.
Robin: How wonderful that Dilly has turned into such a great assistance dog. My sympathies for your challenges (that is an understatement), but I’m so glad that Dilly had the right temperament to be your helper. Thanks for your contribution, it is very instructive for all of us out of wheel chairs to hear perspectives of people so reliant on their dogs.
Vicki: Great comment about my sheep and poison ivy. The ivy is literally right along the road, I’m not sure even the electric fence would be safe. Hummmmm. They would eat it up in a microsecond though… tempting! But I can see they’d be dangerous because of the oil on their muzzles. We are pretty friendly together and they often sniff my hand, etc. Food for thought though!
Trisha says
Cat, thanks for joining in! You must be crazy busy with students and your book coming out yesterday (I can say from experience that for me it is exciting and terrifying and exhausting and sometimes sort of a let down all at once… overwhelming is the best descriptor I can manage). Any time you have to join the conversation is great, we’ll welcome it.
Interesting comment from LisaH, thanks for comparing your dogs. Something you said made me prick up my ears: You said that Java was independent (or implied if I understood correctly) and also “… watches me constantly…”. Typical for lots of BCs for sure, but I wouldn’t call that independent, I called Willie dependent because that is exactly what he does. So that begs the question: How are we all defining these terms? Thanks LisaH for bringing up the issue!
Sarah, I LOVED the story about your female Staffie. Smart girl!
Trisha says
Sarah: I just watched the video and have to ask: Are the rats terrified in those tiny cages? Sorry to bring this up, but I am a big rat lover (unless they are in my barn.. I know, I know) and can’t help but wondering about the experience for the rats. Do people in Barn Hunt ever talk about the sport from the prey’s perspective?
liz says
I think I’ve been equally overjoyed when finding moderation through training with either personality type. Maybe my mood determines whether I have a preference on any given day- without taking the training into account. But overall, when I think of building confidence (and a smidgen of drive) to eventually see my shadow dog leave my side, or finding the connections with my independent type dog so that she seeks me every so often, my heart swells in equal measure. I appreciate either type of dog as they are, but I guess that just as I accept who I am and still try to round out any aspects which may be extreme, I hope to similarly, gradually help the dogs for mutual benefit. I look forward to the book recommendation, and my sympathies to all experiencing difficulty.
Kat says
Thank you Trisha for always sharing the best books!! I’m about a third of the way through this one and loving every word! The descriptions of life with Solo are especially heartening to me as there is so much resemblance to life with Finna. I don’t know yet what her passion will be; the journey so far has focused on getting her sane enough to be able to tell me and just as we got her to a point where she was starting to be at least a little sane we got to deal with the knee issues so she’s not physically sound. I often wonder where this journey with Finna will take us and if we’ll be able to find a real job for her that we can support or if we’ll have to simply be a stop along her way. Time will tell.
Ranger was much simpler, he came to us from good beginnings and made his passion for therapy dog work known from the beginning. He genuinely loves people and making people smile. He’ll do any job we ask except for tricks he considers demeaning such as the balancing treats on the nose. For some reason his vet took it into his head that he should teach Ranger to do this. Ranger kept turning his head away, dipping his head down and generally making it known that he wasn’t interested but the vet persisted so Ranger finally balanced the treat, waiting until permission was given, then flipping it into the air, catching and eating it. Then Ranger cast the vet a look of what I can only call contempt and went to the door asking to leave. It reminded me very strongly of Kreosote’s description of Merle fetching a bird “yes, I can do it, I just don’t want to do it”
Ranger is my beautifully engineered, gorgeous, well tuned luxury car. Finna is my Lamborghini with dicey steering and brakes.Ranger lets me cruise along in comfort, Finna is all adrenaline rush; when Ranger and I complete a visit it’s perfect harmony, when I manage to communicate with Finna and she does what’s asked it’s like completing a summit of Mt. Everest. Ranger makes me look really good, Finna keeps me humble. They each make me so much more than I am alone.
Margaret McLaughlin says
I like mushy dogs, which is why I like retrievers. I’d rather have to teach a dog to work away from me than try to teach them to check back in; to me it’s all about the relationship. I would also much rather have a dog who runs to me if they’re frightened rather than one who takes off–a few years ago Lia was badly frightened by a furnace blower during an obedience trial; she looked at me, & when I didn’t move she ran to the ring gate. Cut me to the quick.
I have found that using free-shaping techniques I can teach this kind of dog to think for herself, which gives me the best of both worlds.
Suggestion for the poison ivy (& not getting it): disposable calving gloves, which will protect your arms to the shoulder.
Sorry to hear about Ralphie.
And I can’t wait to read the book. Ordering it tonight.
Emily says
So sorry about Ralphie… working at a shelter–very low-kill, thank God–it’s pointless and cliche even if it is true to say “We can’t save them all (but we’ll sure try.)” I always look for a state of grace about it, and can only go to, whether I like it or not, the babies have their own karma, their own destinies, and all I can do is try to be humble and catch the beauty of their bright stars while they’re here, however briefly. Don’t know if it counts, whatever “counts” would mean, but if they knew a little love and kindness in their lives, maybe that’s… I can’t articulate this quite… maybe being a witness to those short lives and holding them dear is something.
Hurricanes vs. hangers on the word… I have loved both, but if I have my druthers, oh, maybe not Hurricane energy level but Hurricane brains, yes. I’m almost ashamed that with my own dogs, I don’t always care if the dogs are naughty or nice as long as they make me laugh. I adore clever dogs, smart dogs, wicked bright dogs that think for themselves. I would submit, though, that High Energy and Smart don’t necessarily have to go together… and so that’s my favorite combo: the super clever, independent-thinking dog with an Off-Switch in the energy department. My dear Corgi Fox, RIP, was that dog: sharp as a tack and happy to work, but also able to settle and chill out. My current dog Tinker is brilliant and funny and always has her own ideas about what she’s supposed to be learning (not my version). One thing she’s not, bless her, is the energizer bunny: I really had intended on my next pup being one of those dog-trainerly high drive types that whips out on cue to do amazing precision demos in my obedience and agility classes. What I got is a girl who is delighted to demo falling asleep and snoring in the middle of puppy class. Oh, she makes me laugh.
So that’s my preference: the dog with a broad, flexible behavior range–sweet when sweet is called for, tough when tough is needed, listens well but makes good independent choices, no one’s enemy but no one’s door mat, can turn it on and work or play hard, then turn it off and really relax…
LisaH says
Definitions …. Re-reading my own post I understand the question re: how am I defining dependence and independence? On a continuum, or more accurately, relative to each dog. Java is certainly dependent as far as looking to me for comfort and general direction but much more independent than Lola, who looks to me for comfort and for all direction. The difference, if thinking for oneself is considered one of the factors of being independent, is that Java will also make his own choices, his own decisions about activities, people, problems to solve – opening doors, finding hidden objects, inventing games, different methods of soliciting attention, and so forth. Lola would simply stand in front of a closed door, lay down if she can’t find something. Not sure how well I have clarified how I am using the terms but perhaps in my household its which dog is less dependent than purely dependent vs. independent 🙂
Beth with the Corgis says
I think “independence” vs “dependence” is very relative; a very independent border collie would probably seem like a biddable dream to someone who spent their lives with working line Malamutes. My “independent” Corgi checks in with me 10x more often than all but the most insecure beagle.
A dog can be both independent and biddable, or turn to people for help all the time and still be stubborn or hard to train.
Here’s where I derive my own definitions: what does the dog do when faced with the unfamiliar? When we are in the vet waiting room, Jack’s eyes are peeled on the door, waiting to see who is coming in. When we would go to nursing homes, Jack was ready to set off up the hallways on his own, looking for patients in rooms. When he sees something new or threatening, his eyes are on it, not on me. Only when he feels overwhelmed by a situation does he come and crawl up by me. Yet he is generally a biddable, willing dog who loves to train. If I say his name or give a command, he will come back to me, because he’s been trained to do so.
Maddie stares at me the whole time we are in the vet waiting room. In a new situation, she is likely to be near my legs (though she’s not a fearful dog; she’s not cowering, just staying in her safe zone). If there is a threat, she is not going to protect us; she will look to us for protection. She is very distractable, though, and is actually not the easiest dog to train. She will keep repeating what she already knows, even if it does not get the reward, rather than try something new.
So I think how different people define independence and drive is derived in part from their own experience and expectations with dogs, though there should be some core set of common behaviors captured by the definitions.
Laura says
Oh Ralphie…
Tricia I’m so sorry to hear about that sweet guy. My heart goes out to you and I just hope you’re feeling better soon.
As for independent vrs Dependent dogs, I think it’s different for service dog teams. Universially, I think we as service dog handlers need our dogs to look to us in a lot of ways. Speaking from the perspective of a guide dog handler, this is important. Let me give you a good example. Seamus is an excellent guide dog. He enjoys working. I can feel his happiness through the harness handle and I know I am safe with him. However, one of the things he likes to do when working street crossings is anticipate when we need to begin walking. Through mobility training, I’m taught to listen for the traffic cycle, the serge of cars parallel to us and when a bunch of them go, so do I.
Seamus on the other hand, likes to go when there’s just one car moving, which could be a turning car. I have to stop him at that point, and make him wait until I’ve determined whether or not it’s safe to cross a street.
This is the situation I get asked most about when we’re out working together. How does your dog know when it’s safe to cross the street? The answer is, he doesn’t. Seamus is trained to keep me out of the way of moving traffic, but he can’t read the traffic like I can and he has no idea what the colors of the traffic lights mean, even if he can see them. My whole point is, we need our guide dogs to have some indipendents when it’s time to pull us out of the way of some jerk who decided it would be a great idea to skirt through the intersection during the last moment of a yellow, but we can’t let them just cross the street when ever it suits them. Our instructors made it clear in my first class, that you, as the handler need to know where you’re going and how to get there. Your dog is your eyes, but he isn’t your brain, so I would say that while high-drive, confident guides are great, and they are because they’ll do things in their work you wouldn’t even think of, but dogs who look to me as the person telling them what to do, for me, work better. Sorry for writing a novel and I can’t wait to read the book. Sigh… another Kindle purchase. 🙁
lin says
I absolutely want a biddable dog who looks to me. I have no need for a working dog in my life, and if I want a pet with an independent nature, I’ll go back to training my cat (who is an affectionate fellow, but has, y’know, his own stuff to do.)
@Beth w/ corgis: so sorry to hear about Maddie.
Robin Jackson says
A couple more random thoughts that come from living in an extended family with working dogs on working farms, and from being old enough to remember when dogs were rarely leashed or spayed…
Our family has a phrase, “over the hill,” about dogs who can work independently. As in, “She’s a willing worker, but no good over the hill.” If something unexpected enters the picture, Dilly returns to me for guidance on how to handle it. Tulip, on the other, trusts her judgment much more than mine, and as long as dealing with the new thing doesn’t involve breaking any established rules of the game, she’ll forge ahead. She’s a very good dog over the hill, which Dilly is not.
We actually had to introduce formal training so that Tulip wouldn’t get in Dilly’s way while he was working. If, say, I sent him for a Retrieve of an object across the room, he’d start out fine–but if Tulip ran across in front of him, he’d return to me without the item. Tulip, on the other hand, will run around, under, or over him to get to a goal item. This isn’t about dominance–if the dog knocks over a wastebasket on the way, the same thing happens. Dilly comes back for new instructions, Tulip assesses on her own and then continues.
The flip side of this is that Dilly is happy to work on any behavior which is physically comfortable for him as long as I indicate it’s important. He can close a door with a shoulder, work a POP container with his chin, hand me something reaching up from under a table. He loves a game that he can win–but he defines winning as my telling him he did it right.
We have tug straps all over the house, including on the refrigerator. In 5 years, Dilly has never once tried to open the refrigerator unless I asked him to. That’s not a skill I’d ever dare teach Tulip, and I’ve quite intentionally kept the straps higher than she can comfortably reach. Being good over the hill also means a dog who would certainly decide for herself when opening the refrigerator door was a good idea!
As for whether dogs understand death…when I was a child, everyone had dogs, and every adult female dog had puppies every year. We were always told that if a puppy died, we had to bring it to the mother and let her smell it–otherwise she would keep searching for the missing puppy. But once she’d seen that it was dead, we could take it away and she might mourn, but she wouldn’t search.
It makes sense to me that, for pack animals, that kind of understanding of death would be a survival trait. But I don’t know if any actual studies have been done.
Beth with the Corgis says
Robin, my Maddie will only chase an object if it is in her line of sight from the time it leaves your hand til the time it lands. The slightest interference makes her lose track and come back to her people, barking for us to make the thing move again.
Jack, on the other hand, spent ten minutes once finding a frisbee that got totally buried in a one acre snowy field. When I realized it was lost (and not by him, but by a strange dog who had stolen it) I simply said “Get frisbee” once or twice and he was off. He stopped when some new dogs came on the scene, went and said hello, visited with the dogs’ people, and then went off again looking for the frisbee with no further instructions from me. He cast across the field, found a buried stick the dogs had played with a few days before, pondered it briefly and said “Interesting, but not frisbee” to himself, and headed off again. Actually I had totally forgotten about the fact he was still looking for it when he came and dropped it at my feet, looking quite pleased with himself.
On another occasion, he wanted to play with some toys that have to be kept in the laundry room or they’ll be eaten by Maddie. He was lying in front of the door, woofing softly once every 45 seconds or so. I thought I’d ignore him to “extinguish” the behavior. An hour later, he was still lying in front of the door woofing. I gave up on extinguishing and simply told him to leave it instead.
Beverly Hebert says
Hi Tricia! I am also sorry for your loss of the little lamb.
To respond to your question – my last dog was a male Border collie that had plenty of energy for me and yet was a very mellow fellow – I lost him to complications of epilepsy when he was only 5 yrs old. My present dog is a 10 month old BC female from great herding lines, and in spite of my experience as a trainer, her energy level and drive made her a bit of a handful during our first months together. My grown children thought it was time for me to get more of a couch potato dog instead of another BC and I know as they saw how challenging she was they were sure they were right. But I knew what I wanted and now as I am successfully channeling that energy through training and games my dog and I are connecting in ways that bring me so much fun and joy.
On the dependent-independent bell curve she is pretty balanced – she does prefer being with me to being by herself and had to be learn that if she was in the yard and I walked inside to get a drink of water she didn’t have to respond by tearing up the back door. On the other hand she is fairly outgoing and confident in most social situations and new environments and she often problem solves and learns new things by herself.
One more thing – because I know you are interested in how dogs think, I wanted to mention that she is the first dog I have ever had that notices and watches TV and definitely responds to images of dogs on TV. I was rather astounded when during a movie she saw an image of a dog on the screen and began barking at it, then ran to the TV and stood on her hind legs and pawed at the screen. I had to get to her quickly to keep her from scratching it up. She also responds to sounds of dogs barking or coyotes howling on TV or my computer but this time the dog on the screen was not barking – so she was responding only to the image.
Nancy Beams says
Patricia;
I do think they know! I have seen the evidence too many times from their language after one has passed. I do believe the animals know in advance many things we don’t. How long they will live, etc. Just wish I could pick up the signals.
Heidi Meinzer says
So sorry to hear about Ralphie. But I’m glad he got plenty of love and affection during his short time with you.
I can’t wait to read this book! I love that the conversation about dependence versus independence comes along with a discussion about scent work. Our noses are so inferior to our dogs’ noses, so if you really want to see independence, just turn on your dog’s nose!
I like a good balance between dependence and independence in a dog. Both of our dogs are very, very different, and each has their own balance. Both also do Nose Work, and gain different benefits from it.
My Sophie is a Shepherd mix who came with a lot of environmental sensitivity and reactivity when I adopted her as a puppy. She is the true “Velcro Shepherd,” following me around the house all the time — and so in many ways, is very dependent. Due to her reactivity, her world is smaller than other dogs — I don’t tempt fate with her at dog parks, busy places and Nose Work trials. But she loves Nose Work, and the day she ripped the leash out of my hand to dive into a pile of boxes to get to the source of the odor was fantastic! I have introduced her to sheep, also, and she was as confident as ever in that setting. Alas, I live in a very urban area and don’t have the ability to work with sheep very much. I can also say this for Sophie — she is incredibly intelligent, working much more independently than our other dog to solve problems. I think about the post you did a while back that tested whether dogs would figure out how to go around a see-through barrier. As much as she looks to me almost all the time, Sophie would get it right away and not need to look to me or another person for help.
Our other dog is Boomer, a handsome black English lab. He is more aloof than Sophie, and is completely laid back. He gets to go pretty much anywhere (doggie appropriate, of course) and is a total fuss-free partner. The trainer I took him to when he was a puppy aptly called him a “potato.” We tried puppy agility and other activities, and he had fun, but he sure wasn’t “drivey.” Then we started Nose Work, and he took to it immediately. If there’s odor, get out of his way because he’s going to drive right for it. He’s consistently much more driven in Nose Work than Sophie, whose environmental concerns can get the best of her and interfere with her searching. However, Boomer’s not the independent problem solver that Sophie is (at least with problems that aren’t scent related). In the test with the see through barrier, he would likely just stand there and look to me or any other human for help. I joked the last time I had to crate him that I could just use four sticks and Saran wrap for a crate, and he’d probably stay right there!
So both dogs have a balance of dependence and independence in various contexts, and I do my best to find activities to promote their independence. Scent work has been great for both of them! Where I train, we have lots of reactive dogs and dogs who lack confidence. To see those dogs in Nose Work classes is just fantastic — and the handlers get such a kick out of seeing their dogs work independently and confidently.
Cat Warren says
I love this paragraph from Robin (it both nails it, and is so evocative): “Our family has a phrase, ‘over the hill,’ about dogs who can work independently. As in, ‘She’s a willing worker, but no good over the hill.’ If something unexpected enters the picture, Dilly returns to me for guidance on how to handle it. Tulip, on the other, trusts her judgment much more than mine, and as long as dealing with the new thing doesn’t involve breaking any established rules of the game, she’ll forge ahead. She’s a very good dog over the hill, which Dilly is not.” Solo is mostly, but not always good “over the hill.” Coda, the new pup, will be excellent — if I can get her trained in many other aspects. She is the pup who disappeared in the dark one night when she was about six weeks old, in the hills of West Virginia. She went down the road to find the ball that her mother had dropped hours ago, and bring it back up the hill.
Robin Jackson says
@Cat, thank you for the kind words!
Back to Trisha’s point about dogs having to learn nosework, I do have a question for you and Heidi and others expert in scent work training…
It took quite some time, but eventually Dilly did learn some out of sight retrieves. He can bring in the mail from the garage (out of sight retrieve of an unknown object from a named location) and my purse from anywhere in the house (out of sight retrieve of a named object from an unknown location).
To make the Purse retrieve a bit easier, we scent mark it with a perfume I don’t use for anything else. This is a bit like putting a big orange stripe on something for a person. It’s not Nosework per se, because I’m not saying “Find something orange.” It’s just making the purse itself a bit more salient.
We can tell he’s using the scent because he’ll run into a room, stop, take two or three deep sniffs and then, based on that, decide whether to start searching that room or move into the next.
But here’s the really weird thing, and I’m just curious as to whether this just means he hasn’t had much scent education or whether it simply reveals his own cognitive approach to searching. That is, would it likely change if he did more Nosework.
OK, this is a service dog task, done in our own home. Usually done every day or two, but it might be 5 or 6 days since the last search. My purse could be almost anywhere in the house, high or low.
Every time I ask him to get it, he starts by going back to the last place he found it, even if that was several days ago. This could be several rooms away. Then if he doesn’t find it there, he comes back near me and then begins an organised grid type search. (I don’t have to repeat the cue, this is all his own thing.)
The funny thing about this search pattern is it may mean he runs right past the purse twice, once on his way to the last known found location and once on the way back to me. (I swear Tulip is laughing at him on these occasions!)
Also, he doesn’t check the last place where he gave it to me. He checks the last place where he found it. And he’s not going to the most common places. I’ve tested by putting it in some very uncommon places, and up to 5 days later he’s going back to the last found location even if the purse was only ever there once, like in the bathtub.
And I don’t think there’s too much Clever Hans effect, because he may be searching 3 or 4 rooms away from where I am.
So he’s pretty obviously using his brain before his nose or his eyes, even though that’s not the most efficient way to search.
So do you think this behaviour would change if he had more Nosework/scent training? I’m just curious, this us an area I know very little about.
Mireille says
I share my house with Siberian husky 3&4. Independent? It depends 🙂 on your definition. Yes, they do tend to make some choices on their own, which we do not always agree upon. Mainly in the hunting behaviours; they’ll chase anything that runs. Independent in the house? It depends, we are right in the middle of renovating the house and backyard and that upsets the guys, especially Shadow. He is now following me around the house, keeping track of what I am doing, not wanting to be left out of anything that happens.
Spot is a real cuddle bug who loves to lay down next to me or on my lap.
I truly believe that the bond with my siberians gets better through using their working drive. Scootering, running, bike-joring, ski-joring it all helps to cement the bond. If we do those things together, which require them not only to run, but also to have some measure of self control and discipline, it spills over in the other activities. F.i. if I go on a walk, meet someone and we start talking, the guys will flop down on the street and chill out (ok, unless mr cat strolls by…). In the house, they are very good at just lying around, relaxing, untill I close my iPad (operant conditioning anno 2013) when they jump up and head to the front door, expecting a walk. So they are pretty tuned in into what I am doing. Outside, if they are off leash, they will roam around a bit, but not all that far and the moment I sit down on the ground they come to take a look. They only reason I can’t have them off leash in certain area’s is their strong response on movement; anything running must be chased and that is dangerous for the animals and them.
Siberian nr one was much more independent, we got him when he was four years old. We learned a lot from him, f.i. to be quietly consistent, not forcing but being forcefull in subtle ways. But there were limits in how far we could come, the main problem was that it was very difficult to teach him self control and to give in to limitis, any limit. He would ALWAYS pull on his leash, he would often try to escape. Even when he was old and cripled, we tried walking him off leash, more comfortable for him, but the moment we unclipped his leash, he tried to run off ( by then easily overtaken by my hubby). He would steal food, give us a good talking too if we came home late and demand to be let inside, by looks, talking and eventually by eliciting a response from us by digging. We often philosophied what would have happenend if we had had him from pup with the knowledge we have now. Off course very difficult to say. I *think* that if he would have been better understood in the beginning, maybe he would have felt the need for independence to a lesser extend.
One of the reasons he was placed in our home, was because he was not a very good sleddog. In a one – on – one situation after a year of ‘bonding’ he did start working well.
One incident: never drive a sled dog to far, one day I was muttering and complaining too much and our first two sibes lay down on the path and refused to budge, leaving me standing there feeling VERY stupid 😉
Debbie S says
I think anyone who has seriously worked their dogs, either for sport competition or “real jobs” like SAR, stock work, etc. wants the ideal combination of intensity and biddability; unfortunately, those dogs are very, very rare. Sadly, the need in this country for working dogs has decreased dramatically in the last few decades and so breeders seem to care less and less about selecting for those traits, concentrating instead on looks and other fluff. IMO, this is a real disservice to the species’ future–there is just “something” about a dog who possesses the innate ability to work that sets him apart. I don’t know if it’s brains or the ability to function as a team member, or what, but this orientation is what makes him a good all around companion as well. (Note that I am NOT talking about dogs who have such obsessive drive that they can’t settle.)
Very sorry to hear about Ralphie; how comforted he must have felt during his last hours.
Neilee says
Robin, I love what you said about the tug straps around your house and “Being good over the hill also means a dog who would certainly decide for herself when opening the refrigerator door was a good idea!” I would never teach a trick like that to my hound/pit mix or I’d come home to no groceries.
Also, even though my shepherd is very dependent she is too smart for her own good sometimes. I have to be especially careful what I might accidentally teach her. She’s very quick to pick up what is right and wrong behavior for EVERYONE. It only took my yelling at the horse once for pawing at the gate for her to figure out I didn’t want that. Now she runs to the gate and barks at the horse EVERY TIME. She is the enforcer of my world determined to keep peace and serenity. As a herding dog with no real job I’ve really brought it on myself. I’m her job and she’s my shadow.
em says
Trisha,
Let me add my voice to the chorus of those who is so, so sorry about poor Ralphie. What a sweet and lovely life he had, however short.
I am one of the many who has ‘one of each’ when it comes to dependent/independent. My dogs vary tremendously in drive, also, and I think that actually might make more difference in how they fill space in my life than their problem-solving approach does. Otis is high independence, but fortunately mostly low drive. He doesn’t need a hill to work happily on his own- everything I ask of him he thinks about first, carefully considers, and does in his own way and in his own time, and if he decides that I am wrong, he tells me so before he does it, if he does it at all.
That said, he is very attached to me. He just relates to me on a more equal footing than any other dog that I’ve owned. He’ll nudge my elbow at the park if he thinks I am walking on without noticing something (one of the dogs in our group went off in the bushes and hasn’t come back, there is a Very Important Thing (dog, person, new object) that I haven’t noticed in the corner of the field, it’s raining and he’s cold and would like to go back to the car, whatever.) He’ll stop and stand still in protest if I insist on moving forward against his better judgement. On very rare occasions, he will cross and stop to stand in front of me (a major no-no under ordinary circumstances), with his back to me and facing down what he feels to be a threat. He doesn’t look to me to solve problems for him, ever, unless I’m directly CAUSING the problem, as when he would like his dinner and I have yet to set it down, or when he would like to stop having a bath, and proceed to towel time now please. That’s on me. 🙂
He will acknowlege that I can be useful, as when I use the telephone to more quickly locate his friends at the park (he hears the phone, then immediately looks to me to see which way we’re going- it’s one of the very, very rare occasions when he looks to me for direction), or when deerflies are biting his undercarriage and he needs help swatting them, but that’s about it. What makes him a joy and the dog of my heart, though, is this independent spirit paired with a strong attachment and affection and low drive. He’s not a dog for tricks training, and I doubt he’d make an obedience trainer’s heart go pitter-pat, but for me he is a fantastic companion, loving, entertaining, fascinating, clever, but relaxing to be with- a dog I can take anywhere.
Sandy is the opposite in many ways, and between the two of them I feel like I get a more complete experience as a dog owner. Sandy is quite dependent, cannot be close enough to us or recieve enough of our attention, and while she is a bit better off leash and outside, she never loses that drive to please. While Otis ambles my way when called, Sandy dashes to my side. Where he would lose his mind if I tried to teach him pointless tricks, Sandy eats it up with a spoon. When she gets scared, she wants nothing so much as to crawl into our laps and be comforted (a bit of a challenge at 75lbs), and her first impulse when confused is to look to us (or to Otis). She’s less relaxing, needier, but gratifying in her own way. They are both great dogs, and they do great with each other.
I think maybe their opposite personalities have something to do with how well Sandy and Otis get along. Where Sandy can be pushy, Otis is laid back. The things that matter a lot to Otis (his bed, mostly), she doesn’t care that much about. He lends her confidence, she brings him excitement. They balance each other. I know I’m so grateful to have them both.
SarahA says
Sorry to take a couple days to get back to you! About the rats in Barn Hunt:
I’m very fond of rats myself, I’ve owned pet rats. I wouldn’t play at the sport if the rats were treated badly. Rat safety is taken very seriously, and is something that is discussed. The rats are changed out regularly so that no rat is out there for too long. The rat wranglers say that the rats willingly get into the tubes, which they wouldn’t do if they found it unpleasant. Being in the tubes is natural for rats, they do like to have a hidey hole; but I’m sure they would become more reluctant if they found the experience of being “prey” to be unpleasant. Some of them seem to be investigating the experience through the airholes.
I’m not going to say they like it (they do like the special treats they get), but I think they’d show it if they found it stressful. The particular rats we were using at this event are named pets, and their welfare is really important to their owner, so definitely, I think she’d see if they minded the event!
Triangle says
As usual, I offer a perspective from the feline side. Most people think of cats as very independent, but the majority cats I’ve had in my life have been very human focused. My cat Nic was easily trained to perform various tricks…he was food driven, but also seemed to simply enjoy learning and the attention that came with it.
With JJ…in some ways he’s the most dependent cat I’ve ever had. He has to know where I am 24/7. He spends his nights in my arms, and his days in my lap. But in other ways, he’s the most independent. There is no teaching JJ anything unless he sees the benefit for him, and that benefit has to be more tangible than a food reward. He doesn’t know ‘roll over’ or ‘sit up’ like Nic did…trust me, I’ve tried to teach him. But he does know ‘upstairs’ and ‘step up’…they aren’t really commands to him, just communication (JJ has been blind since early kittenhood.) He knows “SIT DOWN” means he needs to stop what he’s doing, but you can SEE the resentment in every line of his body as he sloooowly obeys.
I had very high hopes for JJ in terms of training him because he’s so damn smart. I thought about how impressive and endearing it would be to have a blind cat who knows all sorts of nifty tricks…could you imagine the youtube traffic? But JJ learns what JJ wants to know. Trying to teach him bite inhibition was a losing battle….I once sat in the middle of my bedroom at 2am and bawled because he just wouldn’t stop, and I was so overwhelmed. I thought I knew cats, and never expected to have an animal that I couldn’t train or work with on my own. That night was what made me cave and seek out the help of a behaviorist at the University of Penn.
But…in the end, I wouldn’t trade JJ for the best trained cat in the world. JJ isn’t easy, and he never has been. I chose him specifically because he bit me when he was a tiny, starving kitten with infected eyes (and really, you’d think I would have had a better idea of what I was getting into.) It was that flash of spirit that made me see HIM, and it’s that spirit that makes me laugh every day as he does something new.
JJ’s drive doesn’t make him easier to train, but I think that’s because he is indeed a cat and not a dog. A dog’s drive is determined by their breed. Part of drive is the willingness to try, but what it’s directed toward comes from their breed. So for JJ, his drive isn’t about herding, or protection, or retrieving, but it’s still about trying and overcoming challenges…it’s just he sets them for himself instead of his genes determining them for him. And usually the challenge he’s setting isn’t something I particularly want him to succeed in…but how can I stand in his way?
Also, I’m so sorry for your lose. There were several times when I came close to losing JJ (including one time when he was clinically dead), and I think it’s the difficult ones…whether it be personality, or the struggle to overcome odds…that grab us most deeply.
HFR says
I’m far from an expert, but until the experts weigh in, I’ll offer this: I do Nosework with my dogs. Going back to the place where the previous find was is very common behavior in a dog who is just starting training. I think it is a combination of common sense, if you will, and lingering odor. Eventually the dogs do seem to figure out that it’s not always going to be in the last place the hide was found, so maybe some of it is about training out of that pattern. But sometimes experienced dogs will still return to where the last hide was. Last night in practice in my back yard, my dog insisted on continuing to work where the last find was despite the fact that the new hide was very close to that area and so the scent was much stronger not far away from where he was working on the lingering odor. I am often surprised when I watch a dog walk right past a hide with no interest whatsoever and I will think “Yeah, right, and everyone says your noses are so great…”, but I think they need to not just be breathing in the air, they need to be focused on what they are smelling and have their brain working at the same time. Either that or they just like to mess with our heads.
Kat says
Robin Jackson & HFR, I spend a lot of time trying to make sense of how dogs process information in a way that makes sense to kids. I like to compare the hidden picture or “Where’s Waldo” books to how a dog’s nose works. When we are looking for hidden pictures or trying to find Waldo if we look at the picture we don’t really see the details until we focus down and start looking at it section by section. I think that for dogs when they walk by a hide or whatever they are supposed to be searching for with their nose they are ignoring the details and just smelling the big odor rather like we just see the big picture.
I can’t speak for anyone else but I notice when I’m hunting for Waldo and turn the page to a new picture my eyes go first to the position on the page where Waldo was on the previous page unless I’m really concentrating on searching grid by grid starting at the top left. I wonder if dogs don’t do something similar especially when it isn’t an intense practiced over and over trained behavior to search in more systematic way. It’s interesting to speculate.
Heidi Meinzer says
Robin, so interesting with your Dilly! Based on your description of his search pattern, I would guess he’s a herding breed?
When it comes to searching first at the place he last found the purse, this isn’t surprising at all — and can be for a couple of reasons. First, dogs often search in an area that recently brought them success. Second, there may be lingering odor — even days or weeks later. It’s great to have them work through lingering odor issues and to keep going to get to fresh source of odor.
Then the search pattern you describe where he goes back over the area and may even go past the purse a couple of times may be a couple of things. First, it makes me think about what I see in a lot of my Shepherd dog clients — they seem to “catalog” the area and may go right past the hide with something like just the slightest head bob to acknowledge the odor, and then check out the whole area and perimeters before they come back to the hide. Second, it sounds like Dilly may be searching in something like a “quartering” pattern — breaking up the search area roughly in “quarters” and seeing whether those areas are productive or free of odor.
If you did more Nose Work and scent exercises, his behavior may or may not change — but no matter! The biggest thing for the Nose Work human handler is to stay out of the way and to watch the dog independently develop his own way to go at the problem and work it out. Each dog has his own natural way and behavior, and as the handler, you just stand back and learn to read what each dog naturally gives you. It sounds to me like Dilly has wonderful search skills, and would be a joy to watch!
Robin Jackson says
HFR, Heidi, Kat,
Thank you! Since this is a practical skill for us, timing is a factor. My house is 60 years old with narrow hallways and a limited number of places where I can turn around the wheelchair. If I’m at the front door on my way out to catch a bus and realise I’ve left my purse in the bedroom, it could literally take me 10 minutes to get. Dilly could take from 30 seconds to 4 to 5 minutes, depending on whether it happens to be where he last found it or not. But the most important thing is reliability. He has had this skill for about a year and a half with near perfect success rates now, so I’ll likely leave it alone.
Heidi, very interesting breed observation! Dilly is half border collie and half Great Dane. He is a tall skinny short hair dog, black and white, pretty goofy looking. 🙂 About the size of a 6 month old Great Dane puppy. We often say he got the border collie intellect and the Great Dane couch potato temperament, which is probably better than the other way around!
He has no interest in tag, play fetch, flirt poles, or running games of any kind. But he loves puzzles and intricate close work, and is a master of things like flipping just one light switch on a panel of 3 or putting things in a basket.
“Purse” is one of his favourite behaviours. He is so proud of himself when he finds it. He comes trotting back, head high, tail wagging, eyes bright. He is very serious while he’s searching, the equivalent of a furrowed brow on a person, and all his movements tight and controlled. And then when he finds it he literally shakes off the tension with a little wiggle and as he brings it backs his movements are all loose and joyful. So cute, and in our house, very practical.
Beth with the Corgis says
Jack has a great nose, but he’s a herding dog and therefore his first instinct is to use his eyes. Is it possible Dilly is looking for the purse first, and when he can’t see it, he then starts using his nose?
When I tell Jack to “find it” in the house, he always looks (I can tell by watching him; he physically scans the area and doesn’t sniff at all).
When I told Jack to find the frisbee that was lost in the snow, he didn’t look at all, he went right to using his nose He somehow knew that the snow situation made a visual search impossible.
What I noticed was that his search pattern when using his nose was very different than when he uses his eyed. When he searches for a toy IN the house, he first does a perimeter trot, then he starts looking in likely places (behind the bathroom door, in the toy basket, under the tv stand). When that doesn’t work, he looks in less likely places (his crate, under the dining room hutch). He is using what we would call common sense, in other words.
BUT when he searches using his nose, he casts for scent in an obvious back-and-forth patter. He can also air-scent very well, as well as follow a track on the ground.
So, based on my limited experience with a dog whose default search process is visual, but who also has an above-average natural ability to use a nose for a non-scenting breed, it sounds (and I could be wrong) like Dilly first goes to LOOK for it where he last saw it, and if that does not work goes on to use his nose, which is why he might go right past where it is now (since he might not be paying attention to that particular sense at all).
Frances says
Heidi – you have put into words exactly what Sophy tried to tell me when we did some Nose Work! And which I only really understood when we played a version at home. She did not want my “help” or interference – just the treat when she found whatever it was – and her method is to climb up as high as she can in the room and sniff carefully in all directions.
Like Em, I would say that in my dogs drive and independence are unrelated – or in some situations actually have an inverse correlation. Sophy (Papillon) has very decided opinions, and I have come to realise that for many dimensions (is this dog safe or not?; does this human like dogs?; is this place worth searching for rabbits/squirrels?; is this edible?) she is more intelligent than I am, and so within safe limits I let her make the choices for all of us. But she is not a driven dog – 1.5 to 2 hours off leash walking a day, or an equivalent amount of brain games or meeting and greeting, and she is content to settle reasonably quietly. Poppy (Toy Poodle) would have a nervous breakdown at the mere thought of independence (fortunately she always has Sophy or another dog or human around to follow) but has much greater potential drive. She would have made a good agility or obedience prospect had I been into competition – as it is she puts her energy into observing me, and second guessing what I might do next…
Juniper says
Hi Trish,
I wanted to send you an unrelated link to this video I just saw:
A 9 week old Border Collie doing what his genetics tell him to do. Impressive!
em says
Just wanted to chime in and say that in the house, Otis searches with his eyes first, too. This morning we were preparing for a day-long outing, so I let the dogs out into the yard to go to the bathroom and went downstairs to tend the cats. My husband let the dogs back in while I was still downstairs and I listened with great amusement as Otis, with Sandy on his heels, thundered around the house looking for me. He doesn’t usually feel the need to keep me in sight, but he was excited by our leaving-the-house preparations and surprised when he didn’t immediately see me when he came back in.
He started by running from room to room, checking places that I most commonly am, visually scanning the house, then paused for a long time at the upstairs window, presumably checking that I hadn’t managed to slip outside, before making his way back through the house. By this time, I had come back up the stairs and waited, curious, behind the door to the basement so that he couldn’t see me. On this pass, he was trotting more slowly, with his nose up, scenting, and the instant he passed my hiding spot he whipped around and spotted me, bouncing with delight.
Otis has a very good nose and is quite a decent tracker (and good snow-buried toy locator) outside. I’d say that ordinarily he is not a strongly visual dog, but in the house, where my scent is everywhere, he seems to use his eyes first when he wants to find me. I can’t say for sure how he finds his objects like his toys, since he doesn’t retrieve them on command, but he will often carry around and play with a single plush toy for several days in a row, and when he goes to find it, he seems always to go directly to it without searching- since he’s the only one who moves it around the house, it’s almost always where he left it, and he always remembers where he had it last. If it is not where he left it, he goes to the toy basket, probably assuming that I have put it away. I don’t think he scents them, at least not until he’s rooting in the basket, he just uses his experience and common sense.
LisaW says
A little off-topic but related to the blog title, interesting article on preliminary results of MRI scans on dogs’ brains. The author will be publishing more of his results in the future.
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/06/opinion/sunday/dogs-are-people-too.html?pagewanted=1&_r=0
There were many comments above saying, well we can’t ask them or they can’t tell us, well maybe they can!
If corporations are people . . .
Robin Jackson says
I have started reading Cat’s book, and am enjoying it very much. One of the things she points out is that dogs are very individual–even bloodhounds demonstrate a wide variety of personalities.
Of course we all see through our own lens. As someone who is partnered with a service dog, it’s interesting to see Cat’s insistence that all “working dogs” have to be high drive “jerks” to succeed. I don’t doubt at all that within the circles she’s writing about, that’s a successful personality trait. But of course service dogs are working dogs, too, and they need laidback personalities, polite demeanours, and a willingness to be guided by their handler’s perception of a situation.
Cat writes about a good search dog nearly pulling his handler off their feet on a regular basis–the same trait would wash a candidate out of a service dog program.
She also writes about early interest in trying all kinds of other species for various search efforts, and how they kept coming back to dogs as being the most versatile. Some dogs, anyway.
And really, every time I read about some new, to me at least, activity for dogs, that’s the thing that stands out to me. Dogs are big, small, high drive, low drive, rushing to the end of the leash in a search or patiently matching their gait to a partner who is blind or has MS. Not the same dog, obviously, but some dog, somewhere, is a good match for some person who has work to do.
Cat first got into cadaver search work because she had a dog who needed a job to do. And pretty soon, as most of us do, she came to the conclusion that the best dogs were the ones that worked the way her dog works. That that’s what being a “working dog” is.
And yet…every day I hear about someone desperately searching for a quiet, mellow, low drive dog because there is someone in a wheelchair who just wants a little more independence, and the right working dog will give them that. Even in the big service dog programs that do their own breeding, 50% of the candidate puppies will never make it all the way to graduate. They are career changed–often to search and rescue, by the way.
Most dogs want to be working dogs–they want a job that matters, that challenges and fulfills them. I’m sure you’ve seen the studies of birds and zoo animals that found almost all preferred to get at least half their food from “work” rather than just served up in a dish. That is, birds would ignore seed set out in a bowl to rake through straw to find food. The work itself was rewarding to them.
But just like Cat’s example of the bloodhound personalities, or your own discussion of Willie, individual dogs have different talents and interests. So they match up with different jobs.
I’m amazed at what Cat went through to find the right job for Solo, and delighted that it all worked out. But dogs offer an amazing variety of skills and temperaments, and “working dogs” come in many different types as well. The “right” personality all depends on the job that needs doing.
Beth with the Corgis says
Robin, you make some excellent points. One reason that spaniels and labs became such popular pets (and the latter as seeing-eye dogs) was that they were a gentleman’s hunting dog that was not expected to hunt every day, did not need to hunt every day, yet was eager and willing to hunt when the opportunity arose.
It is hard to argue that a hunting lab is NOT a working dog— of course it is. But if he can’t patiently wait in blind or boat for long stretches, he is worthless at his job. A dog that is go-go-go all the time is not good for a lot of jobs.
A Chessie, on the other hand, was bred as a professional duck hunters retrieving partner and boat guard, and that is a dog that needs a job and is “too much dog” for the huge majority of pet homes. They were expected to bring back hundreds of birds, and work most days, frequently in bad weather in which sports hunters would probably not be out.
I read an old book on border collies (maybe written in the 1960’s in England) and even then there was a split, apparently, between the “trial men” and the farmers. The sentiment expressed was that the best trial dogs were too hot and fine-tempered to be good steady farm dogs.
I may have to check out Cat’s book.
Kerry M. says
Cat, I’m loving the book even though I’m only halfway through and I’ve mentioned it to several friends. Pretty much, the first question I’m asked from potential readers is, “does the dog live at the end?”, which I’ve been wondering as well so I was so happy to read that “Solo is…” I’ll be very happy to spread the word and I think it’ll hook a few more readers.
While I have had one particularily high energy dog, I don’t think I’ve ever had a high drive dog. I’m looking for a social relationship, so that is more important to me than independence. That’s probably why I enjoy puppy raising service dogs. Generally we get pretty calm dogs that really want to work for you. A bottled hurricane? That just sounds tiring. I do however love reading about them.
Cat Warren says
Hi, Robin:
Thanks for the thoughtful post about the book. I really didn’t do an ideal job in the introduction of distinguishing that in this book I cover only a certain kind of working dog (patrol, SAR, military) versus service or therapy dogs. I didn’t cover that extensive world of service dogs (which of course are working dogs, just as LE dogs are!) because it’s not a world I know, and the qualities/needs/demands are both the same and yet so different. So I didn’t mean for the book to come off as though I was writing about all those complex working dog worlds, and I didn’t spend any time at all — and perhaps I should have — noting that certain kinds of working dogs (like seeing-eye dogs, all sorts of service dogs, guard breed dogs, even herding dogs) have very different tasks to perform. You are absolutely right that pulling someone off his or her feet would disqualify so many dogs. And many of the patrol dogs I work with have amazing obedience on them — but I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen trainers chide handlers who insist on that obedience at the wrong time (when the dog needs to be concentrating on a search for instance, and not a perfect heal). And throughout the book, while I do talk about Solo and his “jackass” ways, I also talk about dogs that have amazing drive, but are slower, more methodical, less apt to be occasional jerks. My new pup, if I can get her there, is going to be like that.
LS says
I have both types of dogs – and I love both! I have a mellow male lab/shepherd mix, Obi, who is so laid back and easy to handle. He is a certified therapy dog, and when meet him they are always amazed at his calm, polite behavior and ask about how I trained him. I know that I can’t take the credit for most of it! He has always been gentle & polite, even as a puppy. He is actually not the smartest dog, requiring tons of repetitions and patience in training. He excels at therapy work because he is sweet and deeply connected to people and his eyes are always on me to see what we are doing next. However, he really dislikes formal obedience. One summer, I thought it would be fun for us to take a rally obed. class, since he loved his CGC and therapy training. He hated rally! He did it with a resigned look and never understood why I was making him do such silly things. The more I tried to get him excited about it – the slower he went, to let me know that he was acting under protest. He went around the cones, over the jumps, series of sits, etc. without ever once wagging his tail…. Yet he walks into a room of elementary school kids and he just shines. The trainers encouraged me to “make him do it” and “keep pushing him and insist that he do it”, but I thought WHY? I know my dog and what he was telling me as clear as day was that he would do this for me, but he was miserable. It seemed cruel to ask a perfectly behaved and well mannered dog to do something that he disliked so much – even though I didn’t understand why he didn’t like it. I think the reason was partly his drive. He is simply not very driven or motivated…. he is gentle, slow, quiet soul. I feel really lucky to have hit upon what he does love to do and I have learned a lot from him about how different dogs can be.
My other dog is a female pit bull mix, Roxy. She is the total opposite of Obi. She is extraordinarily smart and extremely driven. I have never known her to show fear of anything. She lives to have a task to enage with – the harder the better. She can figure out any problem and doesn’t look to me or wait for me to guide her – though she would much rather that I lead her, she will not lay around and wait for me – she makes her own work/fun. The downside is that she can literally escape from almost any enclosure if she really wants to…. she can also get INTO anything….she once chewed a big hole in the wall, ripped out the insulation, and was digging her way through the wooden floor in pursuit of a mouse that was in our basement (it made perfect sense to her – protecting our home from rodent intruders!)…. these stories could go on for hours. Training her is challenging because she can easily get ahead of me – timing has to be spot on, she anticipates and guesses what I might want next, basically she is smarter and quicker than me!
I had a trainer tell me that people often say to her, “I want a really smart dog that is easy to train.” And she laughs and tells them that they don’t know what they are asking for!
So, Obi, although he is not super smart and not at all driven, is in many ways easier to handle – very forgiving in training – and I can take him anywhere with me without worrying. While Roxy, who is smart and very driven, can learn anything and is limited only by my skill in training her, is a dog you can never take your eyes off of and she NOT easy in any way (though she is a joy!) Roxy would have made a fantastic ‘working dog’ and Obi would really hate life if he had to be a working dog! I love them both.
Mireille says
Off topic also, but after sseig the video of the nine week old BC herding sheep, I just had to share this:
http://youtu.be/-PbAK4oodEA
These wer my two pups (omg, where these nw two year old monsters ever that cute… ) displaying their ‘drive’ , not just to run but TO BE UP FRONT. They are about fourteen weeks old there. Nope, didn’t have to teach them anything about being a sleddog, did have to teach them about self control, staying on the tracks and not dragging me into the bush chasing rabbits during dry land (dogscooter) training 😉
Beth with the Corgis says
I also so a tv program about avalanche rescue dogs. Most of the dogs in this particular program were chosen from shelters and they picked the dogs who threw themselves at the fence, leaping to get at people and say hi. They said they went through shelters rather than breeding programs because for THEIR work, they needed dogs that were so very high-energy that they basically failed out of other homes. So definitely for certain types of work, super high drive is needed. For others, you need a dog with a certain amount of drive but not too much.
LS says
An interesting incident in which both of my dogs encountered the same novel object at the same time. Both dogs walked into a room where there was a helium balloon floating near the ceiling. Neither had any prior experience with floating balloons. As soon as Obi saw it he took several steps back, crouched lower to the ground with wide eyes and then left to view it safely from the other room. As soon as Roxy saw it she made a little jump forward and barked at it to see how it would react, then wagged her tail and walked around it trying to figure out how to reach it. Their reactions were almost simultaneous initially – one backward, one forward – and it was very interesting because that is pretty much how they respond to life. Obi cautious. Roxy fearless.
Laura says
At Robin Jackson,
I couldn’t have said it better myself. Personally, I wouldn’t want a guide dog with a ton of drive. I like a dog who can settle easily while I’m at work in an office, but more importantly, is content to settle down and nap or chew a bone. My last guide, torpedo, was a dog with drive, but he settled down and laid around because it was what I asked him to do. He also guided me for 6 years because I asked him to and I firmly believe he would’ve rather been doing anything else. I think the work was too stressful on him, but at the same time, he was so smart and bored if we didn’t work, that I knew he needed a job. Looking back on it now, I believe he would’ve been great for therapy work. He loved to snuggle and be petted and his favorite game in the world was tug. Not that tug is condusive to therapy, but it would’ve been fun if someone was up for it.
As another commenter mentioned earlier, dog’s drives are influenced by their breed. I think a retriever’s main motivation is not just to retrieve something, but it is to do what their human wants them to do. Myost retrievers find joy in this. My current guide, Seamus, is like this. When we have to work all day, he’s willing to do that and when eye-pain puts me down for the day, he’s just as happy to curl up next to me while I lie in bed and listen to a book. I think it’s why a great number of service dogs are retrievers, either lab, golden, flat or a mix of any, because they want and find happiness in, doing what we ask them to do.
Kat says
I’ve been reading this discussion of drive with great interest. I often compare my dogs to cars because that’s an easy metaphor for non-dog people to grasp. Ranger is a classic Rolls Royce all power, luxury, elegance, and reliability. Finna, the epitome of hurricane in need of a bottle, is the lamborghini with dicey steering and unreliable brakes. I wouldn’t say that Finna has more drive than Ranger I’d say she needs a different more active kind of outlet for it than Ranger does. When I googled “drive” this is the definition that came up “an innate, biologically determined urge to attain a goal or satisfy a need.” Ranger needs to be with people and make them feel better that’s why he excels at therapy dog work. As the director of the local TDI Chapter I’m getting to see a lot of different therapy dogs at work. A lot of the dogs are perfectly happy to visit people and be petted but if they never went on another therapy dog visit it wouldn’t matter to them at all; they aren’t driven to visit people the way Ranger is. On more than one occasion we’ve visited much longer than the recommended hour because I was paying attention to Ranger’s ‘come on, just one more’ rather than the passing time. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that the strong need and desire to achieve the goal in a dog doing service or therapy work matters but the outlet for that need differs from the outlet needed by a SAR dog. The desire/urge/need to achieve the goal is the same but the goal that the dog wants to attain is different depending on the dog.
Trisha says
em, I love your distinction between ‘drive’ and ‘independent/dependent.’ I agree that they are separate traits, and I suspect that I confounded them in the post above. As I think about it, I suspect I was defining “drive” as an impulse so strong that it over-rode all else. But as you suggest in your comment, both drive/no drive and independent/dependent can come along in a continuum. Kat, thanks for doing due diligence and looking up the definition of drive and adding nuance to the discussion: Good work. I suppose it all comes down to motivation: what does the dog really want? Willie wants, most of all, to get my approval, second to working sheep.
And Kat, your Rolls Royce/Lambourghini analogy is hysterical. Thanks for the laugh!
Robin Jackson says
Trisha,
I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Volhard Puppy Test, but it or something similar are used by most service dog programs when evaluating puppies as potential service dog candidates. Of course as Jeanne Hampl, an expert in SD candidate selection, often says there are on guarantees in temperament testing–all you can really do is tell the dogs you don’t want. Some traits that will wash out an SD candidate, particularly territoriality and and overprotectiveness, don’t usually appear until adolescence.
Anyway, the Volhard test covers 10 distinct areas: Social attraction (interest in people), Following (literally whether a dog will follow a stranger), Restraint tolerance, Social dominance tolerance, Elevation tolerance, Cooperative behavior shown through interest in retrieving, Touch sensitivity, Sound sensitivity, Sight sensitivity, and Resilience.
http://www.volhard.com/pages/pat.php
It’s always been fascinating to me that the test recognizes that some puppies are very curious about new people entering their space and will run up to them and be very friendly–but won’t follow the person around.
The Volhard test is also done in a specific sequence. Immediately after rolling the puppy over and holding him upside down, you test his willingness to be petted while sitting or standing unrestrained next to the handler. The point of the second test is to see if the puppy has forgiven the person for the previous test! Not whether he likes being petted.
The Volhard test also separately notes the puppy’s heart rate to determine if he is high energy, middle energy, or low energy, which is regardless as independent of all the other traits.
Anyway, the point is just that “temperament” is a pretty complex set of traits, and not easy to figure out!
Robin Jackson says
Oh, and I should just mention that the Volhard test, like other similar test, is most effective when the evaluator is experienced. And even experienced evaluators don’t use it with an older dog, as they will respond much more forcefully to something they don’t like.
Mireille says
@LS intersting, you could almostbe describing my two dogs who are littermates, who as pups would differ just as much, Shadow bounding up to al things new, Spot being scared and retreating whenever possible.
Margaret McLaughlin says
I’m halfway through Cat’s book & am really enjoying it. Made the mistake of taking it to work last night, & tried not to be annoyed with patients wanting to go to the bathroom when I wanted to be reading. People can be SO inconsiderate:-)
Need to be pedantic here. “Seeing Eye” is the trademarked name of the first guide dog school in the US, in Morristown, NJ. The second school was Leader Dogs for the Blind, in Rochester, MI, & there are a number of others around the country. None of them (to my knowledge) are formally affiliated with any of the others.
The proper generic term is “dog guide”. As a puppy raiser for a school other than The Seeing Eye I get this one ALL the time.
Could not agree more with the posters who say that the march between the temperament & the job to be done is what makes or breaks it. I was returning a puppy to the school one time, & encountered a US Customs van in the parking lot & a man loading several career-change Labs into it. I talked to him briefly, & he told me that the Customs often take the high-drive, ball-obsessed dogs who cannot work as guides because they WANT a dog who will search a whole 747 for the chance to chase a tennis ball. Made perfect sense to me, & still does.
dlockert says
So sorry about Ralphie – I had sheep when I was in jr high and high school and losing a lamb, especially one you nursed was the hardest thing ever 🙁
Cat Warren says
Hi, Margaret:
Late into the game, since the book’s release, teaching, and simple exhaustion have kept me stupefied. I looked at your post, and thought, oh god, I hope I didn’t use the term “seeing eye” in the book. I just word searched it to be sure. Whew! I didn’t. Just in my hasty post on this site. As everyone has said, in one form or another, different jobs for different dogs. And even with some jobs, different dogs (i.e., with different approaches to the job) do fine. Especially if they are with trainers willing to be creative. I had a long conversation with someone who has worked MWD and notes that lots of dogs that might flunk out of a certain military training program would do beautifully with a different approach to their training.
Elise says
Definitely the What? What should I do? Kind of dog for me. I even taught Pemba to bow when I ask who’s the queen. Reading What the Dog Knows made me question my preference – for about a minute!