See the dog, not the story. This is a quote from one of your colleagues, a blog reader who sent this in as a comment about dogs in rescue. (And who I should credit, but because I’m in a time crisis, I can’t right now, but THANKS! and I will find your name when I can get more time.). I was reminded of the value of that saying by Kathy Sdao at Clicker Expo last weekend. She did a presentation on being a truly good observer of your dog, something we all know the value of, but she made it special for me by suggesting that we toss away our ‘stories’ about our dogs, and work with who we have. I truly took that to heart. I have a story about Willie, about how he was such a mess when he was young, about how he had projectile diarrhea and was pathologically afraid of other dogs and so sound sensitive I couldn’t socialize him, etc etc etc. There’s value in knowing that history, and in acknowledging how far we have come together.
But there is also value in being able to let it go, to look at who is standing or sitting right in front of you, right now. Not the dog as a container of all he or she has been, but simply who he or she is now. I’ve been doing that with Willie these last few days, and I can’t report any clear and obvious change in our relationship, but it does feel like there is a subtle shift in my perception of him. It’s almost as though I feel a little bit lighter, in some vague, hard to describe kind of way. I think I have to mull on this a few more days to be able to articulate what I’m feeling.
And so, as I so often do, I’m reaching out to you to ask what you think of this, what “looking at the dog, not the story” might do for you. I’ll be off line quite a bit in the next 4 days, spending time with family during a difficult time, but will check when I can, and am extremely interested in what you have to say. I suspect many readers will be interested as well . . .
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Scrambled all last night to find a house sitter so that Jim and I could leave town. I have 5 possibles on a list and all five are out of town. What are the odds? But at the last minute I found a wonderful couple to sit, and I’m simplifying things for them by bringing Willie with us. He’ll spend a lot of time in the crate in the car, no way around it. Last I checked most hospitals aren’t going to welcome him into their ICU. Another dear friend will check on Rosebud. She is the ewe due to lamb on Friday, that is if Rosebud has read the chapters on when she should deliver.
Here’s a photo, that I snapped in New York with one of those throw away cameras (having forgotten my own) on the edge of Central Park. [And here was a fun surprise: I knew lots of people in NY had dogs, but dogs were EVERYWHERE!]. But here’s a shot of one of the horse drawn carts, during a quiet moment on a sunny day.
Flo says
Having lurked on your blog here for a while, I decided it was time to chime in on this topic. I have 2 rescue dogs who’s back story I do not know and I chose that. I got them when they were 10 months old. They were so skinny it was painful to look at my male. They had separation anxiety, fear aggression issues, you name it – they were a mess. The rescue group tried to tell me their story a number of times but I would always brush them off. I figured I might treat them different if I knew the facts so I chose not to know them. I worked on the issues they had without any “feelings” towards where those issues came from. Now, 2 years later, they are calm, happy dogs. The separation anxiety is gone. The fear aggression is fading – though that is taking a long, long time. We were even able to bring a new puppy into the house. I truly believe that I could not have accomplished all we did with them if I knew their story. Even now, when I think of them when we first got them and now, all I can think of is how far they have come and no emotions attached to the way they were. Now, if I could just get them off the couch 🙂
Sharon says
I can really relate to the concept of “see the dog, not the story” in relation to our younger golden, Hunter. He was a stud for a backyard breeder until he was 4 or 5 years old, had never lived in a house and, we believe, had led a very isolated life. (It is clear that he was never socialized much with other dogs, and his fear of enclosed spaces and teeth worn down from chewing lead us to believe that he spent most of his time in a small pen.)
When Hunter first came to live with us nearly two years ago, anyone who met him would likely have guessed that he’d had a troubled past. But now, after being a house pet who receives loving care, regular exercise and socialization, he is like a different dog. And we have found that he is much more able to learn new things and overcome anxieties than we ever would have thought he would be when we first adopted him.
Hunter is still more anxious generally and has fears that our other golden (also rescued but really just re-homed) has never had, but meeting him now, you wouldn’t guess he’d been mistreated. It really is a testament to the dog’s ability to live in the present; any human being who’d experienced what Hunter did as a young dog would likely have been scarred for life.
Barb says
I so agree with the “See the dog, not the story” advice. I have two dogs who were purebred, purchased as show dogs — to be shown in conformation and every performance event that I could work on!
Oh, I could tell you stories! The older dog was orthopedically challenged, costing me thousands to fix. The younger dog has finally been diagnosed with potentially life threatening conditions. She hasn’t cost me as much as the older dog yet, but she’s also isn’t done being treated for her conditions.
But let me tell you the other kind of story! The kind that I love to tell! The kind that makes my eyes light up and my pride burst from my chest! The older dog has advanced agility titles, a water title, a CD, a RX — and he’d doing tracking! You should see the two of us work together! Did I mention that he’s my first show dog? He has taught me everything! And when I call him to work with me, despite his now competion ending arthritis, he runs to see what we’ll do next! We were working on new tricks this morning. His therapy dog visits are going to get even more exciting!
And the younger dog is wonderful. With her health problems, I’ve had trouble evaluating how much she know as her performance has been somewhat uneven. But at the Clicker Expo, in a Kathy Sdao lab, we tested how well we gave commands and our dogs executed them! My girl was perfect! (Not sure I was, but I was close enough for her!) So bring on the water work and agility and obedience! Look out world, here we come!
These are the stories I love to tell. And I think that these are the stories that my dogs want me to tell about them.
Trish, my thoughts are with you and your family as you walk this journey together. May your way be made brighter in the refection of the love that you all share. And may your final destination be peace.
Sarah says
This really resonates with me. I’ve long made excuses for one of my dogs’ trainability in agility based on the fact that I identify her as a foxhound. Just last weekend it occurred to me that she could well be part some non-hound, highly trainable breed. This concept really stopped me in my tracks as I considered whether I would have treated her differently (and had different results!) if I had identified her as a pointer mix, for example.
Of course the bigger point is not to simply make assumptions about her based on whatever breed I think she is, or her back story (full of excuse worthy issues!). And the longer I have her, the more I wish I had expected more from her earlier. But that is tough to gauge without the benefit of hindsight!
Definitely an interesting thing to contemplate, though.
Carly Davis says
I love that phrasing, because it means a number of things- not the story that I’ve been telling myself and other about my dog, and also not the story that owners are telling me when I’m working with a new dog. Obviously, I want to know the background, but considering how subjective each history is when we hear it from the owners, it can throw me off when I hear one thing and the dog’s body language is telling me something completely different.
In puppy classes, sometimes the owners tell me “oh, she’s fine, she just needs to warm up” about the puppy shivering on their lap or desperately trying to flee from the other puppies before they’ve even been let off-leash. Or the owners that tell me their puppy growls when they play but it’s harmless as their dog stands on top of another puppy, stiff legs and tail and back, hackles up, and grrrrrs into the other puppy’s face. Sometimes I wonder if it’s easier or harder with puppies, since they haven’t had as much time for a story to unravel and we really only have their actions and body language to use to predict what’s coming next.
With my own dog, I’m learning to watch her more closely (and I’m sorry to say that sometimes I’m still baffled by what she’s trying to tell me). The best example of this is in the car, where she had learned to be comf0rtable before I had a minor accident while she was with me, and was absolutely terrified to go back. We did a lot of work with her over the course of 4+ months to change her opinion of the car, and I found myself telling people “my dog is absolutely terrified of the car, so we can’t (insert drive her to class, drive to the dog park, drive to the vet, visit my parents, etc.).” We got to the point where she could reasonably tolerate the car, though she was still unhappy about it, and we continued to work with her and take lots of short, FUN trips. Two weeks ago I realized that Fiona was jumping into the car by herself, and settling down without any stress panting or runny nose. She’s even begun to sit up and look around as we drive, and perhaps most miraculously, EAT FOOD in the car (she was turning down sausage, bacon, turkey, cheese, liverwurst, etc. before). I no longer have to say that my dog is terrified of the car. Now the story is that the car isn’t her favorite place, but since it takes her to her favorite places, she thinks it’s probably okay. I could have gone the rest of her life saying that she was afraid of the car if I hadn’t had the chance to look at how her behavior had changed. What a relief to be rid of the story!
Anon says
I can so relate. I actually quit going to a trainer who constantly referred to my dog as ‘the head trauma dog’ and lowered the bar for her accomplishments despite her having a clear bill of health from vets and specialists.
Her accident is her past and while i’m always careful to observe her for long term affects, it is not her present. 🙂
martha says
This is very poignant for me. My husband and I have been looking at Jasper a lot lately, now that he has been in our household for a little over a year, asking each other “remember when?” Remember when we adopted a 5yr old cocker-mix from the NYC shelter, found with no collar on a major intersection in December in the Bronx? Remember when we couldn’t leave the house due to his separation anxiety? Remember when we had to tell guests and friends to ignore him on greetings to avoid getting peed on (well, still working on this one)? Remember the multiple vet visits due to his gastroeintentinal distress/the emergency vet visit after he inhaled a bar of baking chocolate/the x-rays and follow-ups with the orthopedic surgeon after suspected knee problems?
We now have a dog who can spend the day left to his own devices without panic (and with a visit from a friendly dog walker). A dog in the pink of health (knock on wood). A dog who still needs training and attention and more positive socialization so that he doesn’t lunge out on the street (this we are struggling with).
But, as it was so aptly put, I think it’s time to focus on who he is now, ready to take on some new challenges, and not to let him “get off easy”. He’s growing bossier about wanting our affection and I think more stimulation wil help with this. It’s sometimes easy to give him a free pass after all the progress he’s made, but I really think he can continue to learn and grow as a dog, even at this stage at the game.
Joyce Gauthier says
Well, if I “see the dog I have now” in regards to my troubled boy Raven, I see a mostly well-behaved and very happy boy who, although he does not enjoy being around strange dogs, he can handle their presence at a distance. I also see a dog who is thrilled with his life as a pet (rather than a competition agility dog like my other two) and is more than content going on hikes, snuggling and playing ball. It helped me a lot in my rehabilitationwith him to not focus on “why” he is the way he is nor to focus on what I intended him to be, but just focus on the here and now. This is what I’ve got, what can I do to help him. 🙂
I do a lot of work with dog-aggressive dogs and dogs with anxiety issues, and I live by the motto “work with the dog you have now.” As you said, knowing the history can help us understand and may ease our minds, but looking at the dog you have now is so much more important in building a relationship together.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this difficult time.
Danica says
I see the dog. He makes me smile.
EmilyS says
I think these dogs, and all the “pit bulls” rescued from dogfighting, are prime examples of that.
http://vickdogsblog.blogspot.com/
http://www.ourpack.org/leo.html
The dogs don’t know their “story”.. they only know what/where they are NOW.
Erin says
The dog I am working with now is a challenge. She is a Guide Dog Puppy in Training and she is a full on teenager. She is stubborn and putting me through my paces. Looking at my dog for who she is, and staying in the moment allows me to work towards her future. I don’t get so stuck now in those moments of “but she did better yesterday or last week.” It allows me to look past momentary frustrations so that I can work on inproving her “now” behavior so that when I do look back a month or two, I can see a huge difference. Seeing the dog allows me to look at what I can do to help her with her training, and how I can change to fit her personality instead of getting stuck on why she isnt improving as fast as others or getting unrealistic expectations for her progress. It has helped us to build a bond based on mutual respect and understanding despite our history and our differences.
Brad Waggoner says
I was also at Clicker Expo and was in Kathy Sdao’s lecture as well. Our dog Cody came to us from the local shelter. A one year old Aussie who was a dream at the shelter but one week after he was in our house it was evident how he ended up at the shelter. We thought we’d never be able to leave the house again. He is a great dog now. He was the dog that I went through KPA with, he is our demo dog now for classes, but I still carry the story of the hellion that he once was. I think we all carry these stories around not only about our dogs but ourselves too. Kathy’s lecture on the importance of seeing what we have now and not painting a story all over it really hit home for me. Once we can drop the story we can start to move forward. I will now look at Cody as the really cool dog that he has really always been.
Aase Lange says
So true. My version (can’t remember where I first heard it) is “train the dog in front of you”, implicitly: “…not the dog in your mind”. The value of that was really brought home to me by my now-oldest dog who for a long time could be extremely variable as a training partner – each new session might find her super-motivated or totally shut down or anywhere in between. I found I often did best when I pretended to literally not know “which dog” I was going to see in a given session, but just do my best with the one who “happened to” show up…
I’m also reminded of this whenever people temporarily swap dogs during training (I love to do this in class if ppl are comfortable enough); many of them (including me!) tend to make much better training decisions with the strange dogs. Because we don’t have that preconception of what he “should” be able to do (or not do).
Of course there is a great benefit to knowing one’s dog, and those of us with several dogs, all different, learn quickly that it helps to remember *which* dog we’re training and which approach, reinforcement types, and so on works best with each dog! But it’s probably best to think of our previous knowledge of the dog and his/her “story” as, let’s call it a hypothesis – subject to testing and change from moment to moment as we try to look at and listen to “the dog in front of us”.
Michelle says
I had such a moment of revelation with my first dog. She was an extremely shy girl who was very spatial- and sound-sensitive, among other things. She is also brilliant and a couple years of hiking and exploring the world later, we got into competitive obedience and agility. One day, watching a vid of ourselves at a trial, I realized…she was comfortable and relaxed, but *I* was still on the lookout for things that would set her off…making myself tense over what were now only imagined “threats.”
It took seeing us together from the outside, so to speak, to show me that I was holding my girl by seeing her as her was, not as she is. And when I relaxed as well, our partnership, both on the course and in life, was able to grow ever more deep for being more honest 🙂
Kat says
See the dog not the story applies to more than just dogs. It’s funny, I’m pretty clear eyed about Ranger and I think I do a pretty good job of seeing him for who he is but I’m not always as good at seeing my son for who he is or my daughter for who she is. I get caught up in “my” story about them sometimes. I know I’m a better mother when I’m parenting the real child and not my story of the child.
Our thoughts and prayers are with you all during this challenging time. I’m glad Willie is going with you. He’ll be a welcome comfort and distraction.
Susan says
I’m sorry to hear about the difficult family situation. Best wishes to all during the days ahead.
This is a great thing to ponder. All dogs have their own journeys, as do we all, but somehow it’s easy to think of the dog’s whole continuum in one quick moment of reaction time. I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about how far Oscar has come. I’m pleased (or embarrassed) to say there have been times recently when his reaction has been more “advanced” than mine. It’s a good reminder of needing to deal with the present and not with the past. The things we have moved beyond may or may not be issues, but I need to watch for the signs he’s giving NOW and not the signs he gave the last ten times. I don’t want my reactions to hold him back or keep him from further development.
Christina says
I had an epiphany about my rescue when I registered her for my first CGC class. I wrote in the “extras” section on the online registration about her history of shyness with strangers and how I wasn’t sure if we’d pass or able to complete certain sections of the class.
Well, she called me on that and was a super star in the class. The instructor even asked me, “and this was the dog you were concerned about?” I personally don’t get caught up in her past anymore (in fact I assume she can do everything so we DO everything – rally, agility, herding.. going to try tracking and possibly a little lure coursing.. I’m interested in trying treibball and will be finding out if she enjoys advanced obedience) but it’s fun to tell her story and let people know that it’s possible to transform a scared, shy dog into the wonderful dog she is today.
This post still reminds me of my problem child though. Fear dog reaction issues dominate our life and it’s been hard to overcome my fear of him reacting and move forward. I’m trying my hardest to not treat him like the dog he was a year ago… the dog he is today is hugely different as we’ve eased the pain of his hip dysplasia. I worry someday we’ll overcome the worst of this and I’ll still worry and fret. It’s a good reminder that we need to be in the moment with our dogs, not stuck in the past! Hopefully someday problem child will have a “story” of his own that doesn’t have hold over our lives anymore!
I hope your family is alright and best wishes!
Miranda says
So true. I cried as I read this. My male Dutchie, Apollo is dying of end stage liver cancer that is untreatable. We adopted him knowing he was confiscated for cruelty. He developed dog-dog aggression issues that hindered our training and altered his reality for a very long time. We still worked with him, but I always saw the “history” which made seeing his progress so very difficult. Progress was hard to see until a trainer friend told me that what she saw when she watched him was a normal dog. I thought she was crazy. Then, I started to try to see what she was seeing. She was right. He still has preferences about other dogs, but he has met nearly 20 new dogs in his last year and a half and played with them. He is amazing as a demo dog working with reactive dogs (or dogs with reactive owners! LOL). For so long I saw his story and not his progress. Now, though we acknowledge his story, we focus on his progress. I’m so glad that I had a friend willing to challenge my perception of my own dog. It has made all the difference.
s says
I think this is good advice, for dogs and people!! I don’t know a lot about the past of my rescue dogs – some bits and pieces, and some things we can guess at, but I do try to take them as they are now. Especially with my SA dog – I try to treat him as he is now – a lot less frantic, and not let my fears control me from what he used to be (he’s improved so much). Also true on his skeletal weaknesses – his back end is definitely weak but he is much stronger now, a few years after adoption, due to his regular walks. I also try not to dwell on his future – he is a dog I am quite certain will age very rapidly. The one interesting thing – we have paperwork that says he is one age, which is actually on the young side, but if you see him, he seems much older – people always ask if he’s 8 yrs old. Its kind of interesting since we really don’t know his true age – we have old vet paperwork, but that age really doesn’t seem to match him, so I really can’t pin him to an age and its sort of freeing – I can treat him as he presents himself (he’s got some joint pain/issues so he gets treated for that) vs saying oh he’s too young for that med or oh wow, he’s a little off because he’s getting creaky in his old age – we really don’t know his age for sure, so we can’t really relate to him that way, we just enjoy him for what he is today and try not to worry about tomorrow.
Jamie says
I think it’s a valid point and something we humans have difficulty dealing with. Our dogs live in the now but we can’t help but be bothered and concerned about the past and the future.
I know what my dog used to be: a scared, anxious, dog reactive mutt. I know what I want her to be: a confident dog who I can take to trials and compete with (or even just take a nice walk with!). I often find it hard to realize who she is NOW.
It’s easy to remember who she was when I got her. I have plenty of stories. I have numerous regrets. Lately, however, I have taken time to look at who she is now. She is not a confident dog but she is far less nervous. Her dog reactivity has toned down immensely and I actually DO compete with her in trials. I look at her now and realize what an amazing dog she is. She is NOT the dog I expected and I still have visions of her future. But I have started to accept the dog she is now; not just the dog I hope she will someday be. I think it’s helped me appreciate just how far we’ve come.
em says
Wonderful advice. It’s something that I’ve had to work on throughout our journey with Otis. On the one hand, I’ve never been entirely comfortable with the term “rescue”. We adopted Otis from the Humane Association, we didn’t pull him out of a burning building. Yes, he needed socialization and physical rehab, but he was and is a GREAT dog, and there has never been a time that I haven’t felt lucky to have him. I’ve known people who spent thousands of dollars on puppies and ended up with dogs who are not half as sound, body and mind, as Otis is. It’s like I got the bargain of the century.
Maybe for that reason, I resisted seeing Otis as a victim, despite the fact that he was emaciated, mangy, with entropion and no apparant experience living in the house. I reminded myself, that, whatever his past, he was starting fresh. It helped tremendously that everything WAS fresh to Otis. He didn’t seem to have any experience with many basic things, positive OR negative, and his genetic makeup just naturally inclined him to have an easy, open temperament. He was shocked at the sound of the toilet flushing, but also utterly neutral about having his toenails clipped. In many ways it was like starting with a (very big) puppy. If Otis had been naturally shy, I might have ‘read’ his story differently, despite knowing better. So many people I know invent a “backstory” to explain shy, aggressive, or submissive behavior in an adoptee, but I know for a fact that most of the dogs of my acquaintance who show these behaviors have never been abused or neglected.
But even making an effort not to fall for the ‘story’, I still have had to struggled to readjust my thinking as Otis’ physical health has evolved. For nearly a year, we struggled with digestive issues. Constantly trying to put weight on him and get him to eat (if he missed a meal, his super-low body fat meant that low blood sugar would make him even sicker. He once fasted himself for nearly three days before I ended up force-feeding him frozen yogurt.) He’d do OK for a while, but we worried over every meal, tried to sneak extra calories in wherever we could, fretted over chronic diarrhea and frequent bouts of anorexia/vomiting/general malaise. He never finished a meal, wouldn’t even take training treats, passed on half of the primo table scraps offered to him. A couple of times he was nearly hauled off to the e-vet, only to pull himself together at the last minute.
Six months after transitioning to home-cooked and then to a raw diet, his food intolerances had been resolved. He was healthy, holding a healthy weight, and developing an ever-healthier appetite, but the first time he refused a meal out of warm weather pickiness, I had to pull myself up short to keep from going back to that awful emotional place. When I got a grip on my anxiety and matter-of-factly packed up his meal after fifteen minutes and offered nothing else, Otis looked surprised (and a little affronted). By the next morning, he INHALED his breakfast, and in a year and a half, has never passed up his dinner again. It’s a technique that backfired spectacularly (and explosively)when we were first grappling with his illness. I had to force myself to let go of that experience to really see Otis’ new reality. He’s better, really better, but I still have to remind myself to treat him like a healthy dog sometimes. Now I can’t just thoughtlessly hand him tidbits of anything I think he might eat…he eats EVERYTHING. And he’ll do things. For food. Like a real dog! Seems silly, but it’s a concept I’m still gladly adjusting to.
Chris Shaughness says
I try to tell my clients that each dog is an individual with a unique personality that need to be recognized. Many of us have a tendency to categorize and generalize – with people AND dogs – which does not do justice to anyone’s distinguishing characteristics. In the documentary I co-produced, Uncaged: Second Chances for Puppy Mill Breeder Dogs, I state that underneath the facade of the scared, “shy” dog is a dog with a personality waiting to be discovered. People who rescue puppy mill survivors want to make it all better by babying and spoiling the dogs. I advise that it’s best to forget about their past and create a good life for them in the present, and that means training and good parenting.
Heidi Meinzer says
Thank you for the reminder! I got Sophie as a four-month-old puppy who was terrified to leave her foster mom’s home, threw up in the car when I drove her even five minutes from the house, and got spooked at lots of normal every day things. At just shy of three years old, she is still fearful and reactive, but every day is more accepting of new things, and thankfully got over her car-sickness long ago.
I do have to remember that she just is not going to be the dog that will hang out all afternoon with me outside of the coffee shop — she has her limits and it is my responsibility to ensure she doesn’t go over threshold. That said, she isn’t that scared little puppy anymore.
When I look at Sophie, I see the most loving, affectionate, beautiful dog I’ve ever had the pleasure of living with. She’s taught me so much, and helped me to merge my career with my passion.
Happy, safe travels!
Dee says
Hope everything turns out okay with Jim’s sister and Rosebud has an easy delivery.
Great photo of Central Park. I love to dog-watch in Manhattan.
We got our cocker from a shelter when she was 6-months-old. She had been a stray. We had no history, so we didn’t have a story. All we’ve been able to do over the 4 years we’ve had her is deal with what’s happening at the time. First, she was afraid of everything. As soon as it seemed like we were over that hurdle, she started limping. It turned out she has arthritis in both elbows and hips. We got that straightened out. Now people who have known her since we first got her, comment that she is a different dog. She’s the same dog, just grown up and happy.
Our other dog – a mini Aussie – was given to us by someone who got her with the intention of breeding her. When it was obvious breeding her would not be a good idea, this person gave her to us with the agreement that we would have her spayed. I never got a straight story about this dog either. Again, I had to see what showed up when she came to live with us. She was shy with strangers, but pushy with family. After a year, she is calmer, friendlier and seems happier to me.
Alexandra says
@ Danica – I really like your comment. My dog makes me smile, too.
Gretchen Dietz says
First and foremost, sending you healing energy in your difficult times. You and your family are in our thoughts.
Next, I think this a lesson I am going to practice daily. Rubin, my labradoodle, looks like a fluffy stuffed animal and EVERYONE thinks that he, therefore, must be friendly and loving. They approach with that goo-goo-gaa-gaa energy and he goes crazy. We’ve worked very hard on it and 98% of the time I am able to redirect and then get him in a place where he feels safe and ready to visit (not like how people want him to, but at least not all crazed and afraid).
He’s been doing so well until yesterday when he saw an acquaintance on our walk. He has never liked this woman who is, dare I say, an unbalanced alcoholic who has no boundaries. She races towards him even though their past history together has never been welcoming. When I see her, I do my best to project energy that instills confidence in Rubin and again, 98% of the time I am able to redirect and he is able to greet her, though I require the greeting to be from a distance because, as I’ve said, she has no boundaries.
But yesterday she appeared from around a corner and before I knew it, he was crazed. I felt frustrated and defeated. I felt embarrassed and apologetic.
This is his story. Particularly with this woman. My assignment for this next week is to see the dog and not (assume) the story. Thanks for the lesson.
Ashley says
Sorry to randomly drop this is an unrelated post, but do you have any resources or advice about what to do if your dog is attacked by another dog? I’m trying to refute the idea that an owner should “pretend nothing happened,” which I think would just increase the chances of the dog becoming dog-reactive as in “He can’t get me if I get him first! I’ll bark and look mean to scare him away!”
My first thought was to suggest Feisty Fido and general confidence building, but then I wondered if you knew of anything more tailored to the situation.
I really enjoy reading your blog and I would love to see a post about how to help a dog recover from the trauma of an attack. Obviously, a lot of this is covered in Feisty Fido, but what do you do before your dog starts going insane at other dogs, when you’ve just been attacked, or just gotten back from the vet and your dog has more holes in him that he’s supposed to, or he’s hiding under the bed and moping?
My apologies if you’ve already addressed this and I just couldn’t find it by searching.
Cindy M says
An important point, and one worth considering in our dealings with every living being. Observe without judgement. Interact and see “what works” for the individual before us at that very moment. Thanks for reminding us.
Sarah says
Here’s my version of seeing the dog in front on me: My older dog Bella is getting a bit creaky and arthritic, and has been grumpy with the other dogs. I realized a few months ago that she was stressed out more often than I wanted, and I was horribly grieved and upset to realize that my best girl was not as happy as she should be. I spent everal weeks agonizing over big-picture questions: was it right to add a young dog to the family last year? Do I need to move to a bigger house? Does Bella need anti-anxiety meds? But finally I settled on a here-and-now approach: several times a day, I ask myself “what can I do right now to make Bella happier?” Usually the answer is very simple, something like giving her a treat, crating the young dog for an hour, or letting Bella pee in the front yard instead of asking her to walk down the ramp to the back yard. I can’t always do exactly what Bella wants, but most of the time I can, and it’s made a huge difference for her. Small here-and-now adjustments have changed the big picture!
Beckmann says
I see the dog in front of me now… And I am always looking for his big smile, whenever there is a big smile, I do not need to tell stories 🙂
jackie says
Fascinating topic. Expectations can be much too heavily loaded – my mother never got frustrated that she couldn’t train her beagle to retrieve, but things were different a couple of dogs later when she couldn’t train her labrador to retrieve. And I absolutely buy into the idea that WE can end up being more stressed about triggers than the dog is!
Part of the function of the ‘story’ can be to help us cope, though. Without the ‘story’, I don’t think I could live with my dog and his problems, or have the confidence to think I might ever be able to help him. Without that context, his problems would be entirely due to my failure to train him properly.
I have encountered 2 dog trainers that told me that we should ignore the back story – and in both cases they then blamed us for all the dog’s behavioural problems and recommended punishment-based retraining strategies.
Frances says
I think it is important to recognise this works both ways – I know Poppy’s slight shyness is innate, and already greatly improved by careful work on socialising her and building her confidence. I know she has never, ever been hurt or forced, but her hand shyness can make others who do not know her story suspect she has been abused at some point. I suppose it comes down to the same thing – see the dog. Whatever the reason, she is uncomfortable with hands descending on her from above, and that needs to be respected.
You are all in my thoughts at this unhappy time.
Liz says
It can be too easy to let old stories stick around! Whether it’s a dog’s story, or person’s or place’s, the story of the past can be so compelling that I often find it a challenge to allow a new story to be told. A lot of the time, just acknowledging that a new story is being written right now is empowering.
Sometimes, though, the old story is better than the new one, like when reading a not so great book after a fantastic book. Or, the new story is just more difficult to follow having finished a book that changes your whole perception of life. Time also allows us to reflect… you know what they say about hindsight! The difficulty of understanding exactly how you see things now, of interpreting a story as it happens, I think makes the old stories convenient to go back to. I’ve wondered about hindsight and foresight, and their application to past and future and what we call being aware of the present. Insight? If so, here’s hoping for a insightful experience for all of us and our dogs.
Steve Shaffer says
You need to do this any time you are training or working your dog too. I couldn’t begin to count how many times my lesson plan was scrapped due to the dog I “was looking at now”. You can only work with what the dog is presenting you (mental/emotional state) right then, not what they have done or will be able to do later. In shaping that would be lowering the criteria when the dog is having a tough time (whatever the reason). To quip the military, no training plan survives contact with the dog.
Elizabeth says
Thank you for sharing this Patricia! I have a rescue dog that we adopted at the age of seven. She was clearly abused and neglected, and suffering from various issues. I still, five years later, sometimes dwell in her past and feel bad that she did not come into our lives sooner. I am going to take your suggestion and try to see her for her, not her story. Being twelve, I know our time is limited and I’m hoping that your suggestion will help me appreciate who she is today.
Leanne Paetkau says
This is a great quote for any dog owner 🙂 I’m a vet and frequently see people who hang on to past events with their dogs, and how those events stop them from seeing their dog as the fantastic pet it could be. We’ve also re-homed a few troubled dogs (separation anxiety, a scared nippy puppy around kids) and the dog I see/work with in the clinic is rarely the dog they saw/continued to see.
It’s also a fantastic reminder for my own pup. Rescued 1-2 years ago, he developed separation anxiety to the point where he would urinate and defecate in his kennel as soon as we would leave, try and dig is way out of the house, climb kitchen counter tops etc. A lot of work/patience later, today I can leave him home for 8 hours and find him sleeping when I get home, nothing touched – the video camera shows him quite relaxed!! We are still working on a few things, but the dog I see right now is amazing.
Dogdaes says
Getting a history on anything–dogs, people, etc. is always helpful to paint the picture and give a bit of a baseline. It does indeed allow you to see how far you have come. However, at the same time, it can be like always rehashing the past. And in that, sometimes, we fail to further ourselves, our dogs, etc. along.
This reminds me a lot of people who may be in recovery from a disorder. There is a tendency by many professionals to continue to talk about the past. Some people find that once they have talked about the past, accepted, learned to let go, forgive, or whatever it may be, then it is more about the here and now. It becomes about learning how do to deal with the person they are now, whether it be in the emotional sense, treatment wise, psychologically, etc. I think the same can be said for our dogs too.
A few commenters above had a similar quote to what Leslie Nelson said at last year’s APDT CRoss Training workshop. She said one thing they tell their students is “train the dog you have, not the one you wish you had.”
My thoughts are with you and your family. I can only imagine the difficulty right now.
Beryl says
Wow this is so true! I also need to mull this over as the human attached to a reactive shepherd who had many health issues as a pup and some continue. And as Susan said, that each dog has his own journey, is also right on point.
Amy says
This is a great subject and completely relevant to so many dog owners, especially of dogs with
Beth says
I know lots of people have lots of issues with Cesar Milan’s methods, but one thing he says that makes sense to me is that dogs live in the moment. I’ve often seen him have amazing results with rescue dogs by simply telling people “stop feeling sorry for him!” and putting a leash on the dog and just walking it. Yes, I know he sometimes floods dogs and causes them to “shut down” (thus appearing calm). I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about a dog who is a neurotic fearful mess out on a leash, and Cesar takes it and stands up straight and just walks ahead and by a block or two later, the dog is wagging and smiling and has a relaxed, happy grin on its face and the next time someone grabs a leash, the dog runs to the door and quivers its tail and can’t wait to get out.
We can hold our pets back by always looking at who they were and not looking at who they are now. It’s hard for people to let go. It’s something dogs can teach us to do.
Beth says
I wanted to add that my thoughts are with your family as you go through this tough time.
Heidi Meinzer says
I looked at the post again and recalled that this was not a work or conference trip you were on this time — my heart goes out to you and yours during this difficult time.
trisha says
I can’t answer any comment specifically, but I have so enjoyed reading what each and every one of you have written about your dogs, and am also truly grateful for the kind and supportive comments.
Katie says
Once upon a time, I had an old dog, Harvey, that I pulled from the shelter as an old dog. He was a sweet and gentle dog, very silly, a little quirky fearful about certain things, but mostly an all-around nice guy who loved everybody and was a pleasure to live with. I didn’t know anything at all about him when I adopted him. He’d spent over a year at the shelter before being adopted the first time, and then had been returned after a couple years because of a divorce. He was 10ish. He had a lot of scars, but in truth I never thought a whole lot about them other than to note that they weren’t fighting scars (he was a pit bull). He just was my funny old man dog.
After he died (after only a year- he had a brain tumor that gave him seizures that eventually we were no longer able to control with medication), I wrote the shelter and thanked them for the time I’d had with him. One of the animal control officers wrote me back and told me that she had been the one who had seized him as a cruelty case years ago, and that she was glad he’d ended his days in a home that loved him as much as I did.
I am glad that I didn’t know until after he died that he’d been a dog who really had been abused. I like to think that knowledge wouldn’t have changed me or my response to him, the way I acted with him, the way I thought of him, but I suspect it would make it hard not to. I am glad I knew him as the dog and that he was never eclipsed by his story.
He was such a great dog and we made our own story together.
Laurie says
Hmm… Even when I start to reply to this I think of starting with my dogs’ stories. Instead, I think I will cogitate on who each of them is now. I have always felt that our dogs are more likely to do what we expect them to do… So wonder in the long run how the new perception will affect what we do, particularly with my younger dog who I would describe as having more issues. Is telling their stories for them or for me? What attachment do I have to them? If I still need to tell their stories, is there a new line that needs to be added? Hmm…
Amy H. says
I used this concept for the first time last year with two puppies that were returned (seperately and at different times during the year). Both had what was classified as severe aggression and/or socialization issues. Before they came I made sure that I cleared my mind of that past and welcomed them with a new future in mind. Neither one ever showed any of the symtoms of their past when introduced to my pack or ever again to my knowledge. They are now living as wonderful companions to their new families with none of their history following them along.
Now I don’t know if it was my attitude, the change in scenery or being able to read these dogs and knowing what they could handle but they were a joy to have in my household for the months that they were here!
Angel says
My thoughts are with you and Jim during this time, postivie energy for both of you. I’m sure taking Willie with you will be a good thing. Even if he has to be crated much of the time, it’s best for him to be taking it easy on his shoulder right now, right? Easier for that to happen with you than even the best sitter. Plus his prescence will bring you peace and comfort.
As to seeing the dog and not the story. Isn’t that what we all want? I can’t keep from thinking of us human animals in regards to this. Don’t we all have baggage? Some of us worse than others, of course, but most of us have negative aspects of our pasts that we don’t want to be solely seen as, do we? Don’t look at me and say, “Oh, she acts that way because her parents divorced when she was 4. And she was kind of a nerd in school and really shy and picked on some.” Yes, all those things are true. But they are not me. See me. Acknowledge who I was and the places I have come from. Hope with me for where I want to go. But see ME, now.
No one wants people to look at their past stories, at their handicaps – be they physical, mental, emotional – and see that as the whole picture or feel pity for them or offer excuses based on that. Acknowledge who I was, and see who I am. Don’t you think our dogs feel the same way?
jackie says
I am a member of a rescue dog forum and there is a kind of tradition that each year on their ‘gotcha’ day you write up how they are doing and how far they’ve come since the previous year. I think that reflection does help us move on a little – write them new, happier chapters in their stories.
Lisa W says
While I understand the meaning and logic behind see the dog, not the story, I can
Denise says
I missed the original post but by pointing it out, you’ve given me words for an idea I’ve been struggling with for some time. After years of hard, hard work, my reactive dog has made amazing progress. He’s now able to not just tolerate but even work – and learn!! – in a crowded, chaotic Tricks class – it blows my mind… and that’s the problem. I’m still stuck in his story and he’s bounding forward, making the most of the present. Gotta catch up! See the dog, not the story. Indeed. Thanks to you and to the poster who said it originally.
Beth says
You know, I was thinking of this post the other day. We have a casual friend who does rescue and her newest is a three-legged boxer. He’s a young dog, and he just lost the leg before they got him; they think it may have been a car accident but are not sure. He still has some sutures and his hair hasn’t grown back.
This dog does NOT feel sorry for himself, not one little bit. Typical young boxer; bubbly, bouncy, wants to play and lick faces and say hi. He’s still trying to figure out how to do the boxer bounce sans one front leg, but he sure does try.
Here’s the funny part, though: my bomb-proof male Corgi, who is the closest thing to 100% reliable with other dogs as it is possible to be, was not quite sure what to make of it. He kept trying to sniff at the wound area and absolutely ignored the boxer’s repeated entreaties to play. Jack usually greets the Boxer Bounce by rearing up on his hind legs (in play) and engaging face-to-face, but not with this dog.
It’s impossible to know what goes on in our dogs’ heads (and Jack is a particularly clever dog who tends to reason things out and weigh them in a more human-like fashion than most dogs). I don’t think, though, that the lack of a leg was the factor. I think the wound area might have still been fresh enough to smell of a wound, sutures, medication, etc.
It will be interesting to see how Jack reacts when the incision is healed and the hair growing back in more.
Laurie Luck says
You are great with a camera – that’s a really nice shot of NYC, and with a disposable one at that!
Loved this blog post. True in so very many ways. I’m glad I wasn’t a trainer (or at least not a very good one) when I got to know my aggressive Aussie, Lucky. Not knowing any better, that dog got out and about more than the well-behaved dogs I have now. I didn’t know anything — just enough to keep him out of trouble.
This was one of the few cases where the less you know, the better off you are, I think.
He went camping, swam in the ocean, visited the ponies at Assateague, hiked trails, came on vacation to Lake Anna (VA) with us every year, attended an APDT conference (back in the day), loved to ride the JetSki — the dog really got around! If I’d have looked at him from a “How’d he get this way” point of view, the poor dog would never have gotten out. Instead, I saw what I had (and only that) and said “Ok, now let’s get him out and about safely so he can live a full life.”
And a full life it was! 15 action-packed years…
Bodie & Goo says
I have two terriers, one a rescue, the other – my boy from 7 weeks. I only vaguely know Magoos background so daily we have had to make it up as we go along to cope with her fear aggression. I have learnt as much from her as I have from Bodie who I got as a pup. Any progress is a celebration & I have learnt to accept that we’ll just adjust our life to suit who’s in it and their strengths and limitations. So what if she doesn’t have a big circle of doggy friends. She’s lovely with all people and she has one dog and one cat friend and that’s a quality life isn’t it?
em says
Beth,
I bet you’re right about Jack’s concern. When I come home from the dentist, even if it was just a cleaning (my dentist does tend to leave one a bit bloody after a cleaning), Otis wrinkles his forehead and sniffs intently at my face for several long moments before accepting that I’m OK. He really does seem worried by it, not just interested, so there must be something about those smells (antiseptic, blood, in my case the lingering chemical signatures of pain and anxiety) that he is reading as post-traumatic.
On the other hand, Otis does tend to worry over things that he marks as non-normal. He doesn’t see push-faced breeds very often, so when he meets one, he tends to sniff and hover over them much more intently than longer-nosed dogs. He REALLY seemed worried about the first basset hound he ever met. He doesn’t react badly, not fearful or hostile, he just seems….worried– anxious for them, not about them, if that makes sense. After a few meetings, Otis stops treating them differently and seems to become comfortable with their differences. I’d love to hear how Jack adjusts his reaction to his new Boxer pal.
Nan says
Wonderful topic. I’ve always had rescues, often with tough painful back stories, and I have generally carried those stories with me for what I thought were good reasons (reflecting on how well they were doing in spite of, encouraging people to take a chance, feeling good about making a difference . . . .). About 7 and 1/2 years ago I got a young labrador (about 2 and 1/2). Untrained with lots of baggage for sad reasons and some medical challenges to boot. What she demanded of me, once people helped me see it, is that I see her as she saw herself–strong and chosing to be happy and to move forward. She was not her story she was herself and is. She’s had to work hard on me but I no longer tell the “tale” I now say, with great love, this is my girl Sally and when people praise her I say yes she is a wonderful girl. No story–just the truth about Sally. When we added a collie with a tough back story to the family I had learned my lesson–we left the story behind and moved forward together. He is a wonderful boy–no story–just the truth about Robbie.
kate says
I like what one commenter said about accepting the past and then moving on. For me, I can’t forget that my best friend, my first dog, was brutally attacked by another dog. After she died (9 months later, of cancer), we adopted an older puppy, and immediately found that he had “issues.” I know absolutely nothing about his previous story, but I know that my biggest fears go back to that attack. That our new dog will perpetrate one, or be the victim of one, and every time he “reacts” I’m flooded with fear and embarrassment.This is a story I want to let go of but have had a very hard time doing so.
Still, my first dog, the one who had been attacked, is a great example of “see the dog, not the story.” For the first six years of her life, Belou didn’t like to swim. That was her story. Then I met my future husband. For the last six years of her life, she loved to swim. If only we could all see our dogs through others’ eyes.