“Intelligent Disobedience” – Thank Heavens for It
I loved Jennifer Holland’s book, Dog Smart: Life-Changing Lessons in Canine Intelligence, so much that I asked her if we could talk more about it sometime. Jennifer is one of those great adventurers, fueled by grit and curiosity, who scuba dives with sharks, and camps with Indigenous people in Papua New Guinea. She is the author of the Unlikely Friendships series, and is forced by National Geographic (ha), to travel around the world and write about it. Cool.
We had a great talk; such fun to hear about her experiences with hunting dogs, sniffer dogs, guide dogs, etc. I asked her was what surprised her most, in all the research she’d done on canine cognition. First, she mentioned just how many dogs there actually are in the world–perhaps 900 million or so, with at least three-quarters of them being free-ranging. That is one successful evolutionary story.
She was also fascinated by the training of what’s often called Intelligent Disobedience, a term popularized by those who train guide dogs. Imagine being blind, and are about to cross a street. You’ve been alerted by a sound that traffic is stopped, so you say “forward” to your dog, and move into the crosswalk. Neither you or the traffic technology see the car barreling around the corner, but your dog does. He refuses to move forward, disobeying your cue. And saves your life.
There are lots of other examples–not always life and death, but often critical to the visually impaired. What if you are about to walk into a sign at the height of your head? Watching out for things at human head height can be the most challenging to teach guide dogs, because they don’t usually look up when they are scanning the environment. They have to learn that their job is to avoid obstacles that wouldn’t just be in their way, but their person’s way too.
Serendipitously, I also recently interviewed, Laura Magnuson, one of our loyal village members, about what it is like to have a guide dog. (The interview was for an upcoming post, stay tuned, it’s fascinating!). I asked her, as a blind woman who has had four guide dogs, what the impact of “Intelligent Disobedience” training has been for her. She has a new dog, Kyle (Welcome Kyle! We love you already, can’t wait to “talk” more!)
Kyle is a young dog, still in need of lots of training from Laura, but has already saved her from big trouble. She works on a busy campus, and was crossing the street soon after getting young Kyle, when he stopped dead in the cross walk after she’d said “forward.” (FYI, she’d been taught, years ago when she used a cane, to cross the street as fast as she possibly could. If you have no sight, stopping mid-street is hardly something you’d be comfortable doing.) But she trusted the training, and trusted her dog. Turns out there was indeed a car in the cross walk.
Talking with Jennifer about “intelligent disobedience” got me thinking about how often that happens in sheep herding. Every top handler has a story about the time their dog saved their run by disobeying. Perhaps they said “right,” but rather than complying, the dog stopped, and turned at looked at them. Best translation is “Really? Are you sure?” And every handler has the rueful story of when they ignored the dog and repeated the cue, the dog did some canine equivalent of shrugging and saying “Well, okay . . .”, and the run went to hell because the dog knew exactly what the sheep were thinking, and the handler didn’t. (Ask me how I know.)
I am sure that there are lots of examples from other fields, from scent detection dogs to hunting dogs to . . .? Which leads to the discussion I’d love us to have about when does it happen, but how you knew, or didn’t, that the dog was overriding your cue because he or she knew better. It’s relatively cut and dried with the “car in the crosswalk” example, but in sheep herding it takes no small amount of experience for the handler to know when the dog is simply not complying (for so many reasons–including “I don’t want to go left, there’s too much pressure there from the sheep and it scares me), or is making an “intelligent” decision (“If I go left, the sheep will bolt back to the set out pens, and we’ll both be sorry.”), based on understanding the eventual goal, to not do what you ask. I would love LOVE to have a discussion with you all about when this has happened to you, how you knew (or didn’t) that your dog was right, and what happened.
Part of what I love about this is that it continues our important discussion about giving dogs more agency, and being more respectful of their intelligence. Which, circling back to where we started, is also something Jennifer talks about in her book, Dog Smart. Join in the discussion?
By the way, if you’d like to hear more about Dog Smart and Jennifer’s adventures, she and I will both be on The Larry Meiller Show on Tuesday, August 27, from 11 to 12:30 central. Thanks so very much to Jennifer and Laura for taking the time to talk earlier this week!
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: We’ve been to two trials in the last two weekends. Here’s the scene from the “Nippersink trial” last weekend. Yeah, it is gorgeous, isn’t it! (But actually in a different location due to a family crisis, this was at a gorgeous farm outside of Portage.)
Here’s Skip the previous weekend, watching the sheep being moved from one pen to another.
Regrettably, our trial results have not gone well lately. After winning first and second in his first two trials, the next trials have had the kind of sheep that Skip can’t handle. Skip is a defensive player, and is brilliant, truly brilliant on flighty sheep. He puts just enough pressure on them to move them without scaring them. But, the sheep in the last two trials (and several to come), have sheep described as “hay bales” by a top handler, because they are so hard to move. These problems are on me: I bought Skip being told by one of his owner’s that Skip “didn’t have enough power to move heavy sheep on a hot day.” Well, that’s what we have in Wisconsin in summer. And yet, we bought him anyway, because we fell in love with him, and Maggie fell in love with him, and we are in a perfect position to monitor his bad heart, and I just couldn’t send him back, even though I wanted a dog to run in the Open class. So, like I said, on me.
So I’ve scratched running several upcoming trials, aware that if I was a great handler I could have done more to help Skip. But, although I feel like I’ve learned a ton since I got him (4.5 years ago, is that possible?), I know it’s not fair to keep putting him in these situations. It’s frustrating, because he has been SUCH a good boy, doing everything I ask, I feel like I’ve learned so much about the sport, but he can’t move the sheep fast enough to finish the course. If my priorities were winning trials, I would have gotten another dog a long time ago, but I also love my garden, and writing novels, and this blog, and my energy is limited. Please send a fairy godmother to make me younger and healthier and have more energy.
Good news though: My novel has a publisher! At least, I think it does. I’ve been waiting two weeks for a contract, and so shouldn’t say more until that is finalized. I will say that the publishing world moves at the speed of molasses on a cold day–the manuscript was done in mid-January. My patience, not my strong suit, will continue to be tried because the novel won’t be out until early 2026. Argh. A year and a half! That’s not nothing when you are 75. I can’t wait for you to meet Maddie, the novel’s protagonist! I’ve grown so very fond of her, and am starting work on the second novel with her, and her dog, Jack, at the center. Stay tuned. Stay patient, and help me do the same.
In other news, I went totally out of my comfort zone and co-hosted a fund raiser for one of my favorite authors, Nickolas Butler, who is running for the Wisconsin Assembly. I reread Nickolas’s first book, Shotgun Lovesongs, over the weekend, and was reminded how powerful great writing can be. If you want to read a book that leaves you with renewed faith in humanity, read this one.
I leave you with sexy dog ears: The unique ear posture of male dogs who are courting females. Ears up straight up and drawn toward the center. I’ve only seen it in this context–male dogs courting a female. In this case, the female is Maggie, who is spayed, but seems to attract a lot of male dog’s attention. (There was also a bitch in heat at the trial.) It’s usually accompanied by a curled tail, and often the dog standing on his toes. I call it a full body erection. I also think it’s adorable, sort of “sexy-cute,” the Ryan Reynolds of dog dom. Maggie was not as amused as I was.
I hope this leaves you amused yourself, and ready to join in on the conversation about “intelligence disobedience.” (Anyone have an idea for a better name? I think it needs one.)
54 Comments
SUBSCRIBE VIA EMAIL
About the Author
Patricia B. McConnell, PhD, CAAB Emeritus is an applied animal behaviorist who has been working with, studying, and writing about dogs for over twenty-five years. She encourages your participation, believing that your voice adds greatly to its value. She enjoys reading every comment, and adds her own responses when she can.
LEARN MORE FROM PATRICIA’S BOOKS & DVDs!
Patricia is known the world over for her clear and engaging books and DVDs on dog training and canine behavior problems. You can also “meet” Patricia in person on her seminar DVDs, from The Art & Science of Canine Behavior to Treating Dog-Dog Reactivity.
Had a bit of this last week. I currently have my own dog here, plus two I’m sitting for, and I have an elderly indoor-only cat who does not like dogs. My BFF came for breakfast, and brought her Golden, who is Tilly’s BFF.
I figured Nettle would stay holed up in my bedroom, so I left the kitchen door open to the porch and the separated screen door with its dog door open.
So, the dogs were all rampaging in and out, having themselves a party. Tilly suddenly ran to the far corner of the porch, barking as only a Kees can bark. She ignored me until I took hold of her ruff and escorted her into the house. She came to the table where we were drinking coffee and talking, and barked, and barked, and barked, then spun in circles, and barked some more. Unprecedented, even for a dog whose nickname is Tilligator Barksalot.
Several hours pass…
At suppertime, no cat. I found her at the far end of the yard, looking shellshocked. (She’s fine, BTW.)
As far as I can tell, she had slipped onto the porch and hidden in the corner, then slipped out through the open dog door after I closed the kitchen door.
I texted my BFF, and said, “I really need to listen to my dog.”
And not to pick nits, but the Seeing Eye is the name of a particular guide dog school. The generic is guide dog or dog guide.
Great story Margaret! And thanks for the guidance… I wasn’t sure how to name the dogs, I’ll fix it right now.
Margaret, thank first for the guidance see the correct terminology. I was wondering, and should’ve taken the time to look it up. Got it fixed. Second, yay T. Barsalot!
I’ve long heard of intelligent disobedience in guide dogs, but can’t remember an incidence in any of mine (but that could be my aging memory!). But I do watch for it in my horses, as they can sense danger to which we are oblivious, whether that be unsafe floor boards in a horse trailer or a predator in the woods. Thanks for the book recommendation; I just checked out “Shotgun Lovesongs” from my library system as an audiobook!
Michelle, love you adding horses into the mix!
We have always walked our dog every evening. Our prior BC was a confident girl who loved her walks and would very much tell you it was time for a walk. She was also very biddable and we joked she would have followed us into fire. (Really, it was water. She absolutely hated water, but she would swim flowing creeks to trail run with us in the mountains.) One night, she is refused to keep walking away from home with me. She insisted on turning back. Physically she seemed okay. My husband tried taking her on a walk. Same deal, she refused to go more than a block from home no matter what direction he took her. We had no idea why and we finally give up. The next day, we read that a mountain lion had been discovered under a porch near the river. Our house was about a mile from the river, but it did sit between the river and the foothills. We’re fairly certain that mountain lion had been nearby or recently through our neighborhood, and Abbie wanted nothing to do with it. She died at 14 and it was the only time she refused to go on an evening walk.
Kendra, oh man, that sends chills up my spine. If Abbie didn’t scent out that puma, then I’m not a dog lover. (We had one run through our yard recently! We were gone, but a neighbor was driving by and said a HUGE tan colored cat with a long long tail ran across our yard into the woods as they drove by. We’ve had them very rarely in the area–5-6 years ago a neighbor got one of his trail cam of one 75 yards from or house.
I am learning that if Freddy continues alerting behaviour – shouting and front feet on my chair – after I have told him several times that all is well he is probably right and I should heave myself up and creak out to look properly. It used to mostly mean “The front door is open and I might get out!”, now it usually means “The front door is open and the kitten might get out/has got out!” Sometimes it is that there is something so utterly fascinating going on out there that no dog should be expected to ignore it, like men flying up to the chimney of the house across the courtyard. (They were on a cherry picker, but that was behind the house.)
Sophy’s secret powers are path finding, cat finding and forecasting rain. If she says to turn back now it is best to listen to her or risk a long wet trudge under her reproachful gaze. But I gave up arguing with Sophy many years ago – she is Always Right
Frances: Maggie tells Sophy good for her, and that she is all in on getting the hell inside if it’s about to rain. “Working dog” be damned.
Upland hunting dogs often exhibit “intelligent disobedience”, because they can smell the gamebird their handlers cannot find. I’ve often been unable to kick up a bird & try to relocate my dog, yet my dog won’t budge because they know the bird is right where they are pointing. In hunting, we are told to always “trust your dog” but it is a hard lesson to learn.
Mary Ann, love the hunting dog stories. We sheepdog handlers are taught to trust our dog too, but when? Ae where.. Takes experience to know when to trust and when not to.
I had a day job to fund my training. One of the directors had his car stolen off his drive because he was fool enough to leave his keys in sight of the door and the door unlocked. He didn’t notice that the car had gone until the next morning.
I asked if his two dogs had reacted when the burglar came in. Well of course they had, they barked their heads off.
His reaction?
Shouted at them to shut up.
No sympathy from me – or his insurers.
Oh man, Charlotte, that’s a high price to pay for being oblivious (and, uh, foolish — keys in the car overnight?) I wonder if his dogs are laughing now.
I live in an area where we have lots of black bears. While walking the dogs I try to stay very alert but sometimes… the dogs will alert to a bear eat before I see it. They have a particular bark that I know to honor. That bark has saved us from many encounters. I’ve had my horse refuse to go down a trail we’ve ridden many times. Only to stop and watch and see the bears on the trail ahead.
On another thing, my female, spayed, does that with her ears for certain boys she takes a shine to. And then does the hussy dance all around them. Have you ever seen a girl do that?
Judy: Glad you have bear sentries in two species to protect you! And I love hearing about your
sexy cute ears on your female. I don’t remember ever seeing it from a female, anyone else? (I love the “hussy dance” term. They are so obvious, aren’t they!
Huskies have been bred to be intelligently disobedient for centuries! While pulling a sled, they see a crack in the ice 30′ before the musher. Their decision making skills have been honed to the point where they disobey a direct order if it means injury or death to the other dogs or the musher. We like to call them “independent thinkers”
Great example MinnMary, I’ve heard many of these stories from folks I trust. Thanks for reminding us the value of independent thinking!
Trisha, exciting about the publisher!! Crossing all fingers and toes for the process to move along smoothly and efficiently!
Skip, I could look at the back of your head all day. I request a post of “with the gaze of Maggie and Skip” photos, all taken with the vantage of their sight lines, all with the details of their ear expressions and wind-fluffed back-of-head fur patterns.
Is that weird??
Delights to the whole crew!
Amy, not weird in the least! And Maggie agrees she needs more “from her perspective” photos.
Because she is, after all, most important.
Growing up we had miles of woods behind us, complete with an old unused road that helped me to reorient myself after wondering all over. I was about 12 and out with my rough collie on the road and he suddenly positioned himself in front of me and would not allow me to move forward. Within seconds a huge branch dropped in front of us. He got lots of hugs.
Patricia: That is one amazing story. What could your very own Lassie possibly have perceived? Makes you want him to have his own TV show!
Years ago we had a rescued Great Pry (mix?) who absolutely loved the whole world. I took Connor to nursing homes, Kindergartens, Scout troops, etc. as an ambassador for dogs. He was a calm, friendly dog and had never met a child or adult he didn’t want to meet and befriend. But one day Connor, along with our exuberant silly Pitbull, Chiara, were out walking with my two youngest children (ages 12 and 7), when Connor suddenly halted and then placed his giant self between the kids and a couple that was approaching them. He steadfastly refused to move, to the point where the kids had to turn around and head back home. We later discovered that the man approaching them was a convicted child molester.
Carole: Your story gave me goose bumps! Yay, Connor, you hero dog you!
I had a situation many years ago with my golden retriever who was a Canine Good Citizen and a therapy dog. We were in an assisted living facility when a gentlemen approached us and tried to pet my dog. She wanted none of it and I positioned myself in front of her and tried to dissuade him from petting her. As is common, he insisted that dogs love him and she eventually growled at him. Of course, you cannot have a therapy dog growling at the residents and the volunteer coordinator came flying over to see what was going on. The man disappeared down the hallway and I took my shaking dog outside for a break. Turns out they found the man. He wasn’t a resident there, wasn’t visiting anyone, etc. Generally, apparently had no business there. They escorted him off the property. I firmly believe she knew something about him that the rest of us didn’t. Unfortunately, it was apparently serious enough that I could never get her to go back without her making it clear she didn’t want to be there.
Darin: Wow, just wow. I had a similar experience once, (dog refused to greet a man). Sorry your Golden couldn’t go back, makes me wonder just how awful that man was. Shivers . . .
Love your post (as always)! How about Intelligent Override? Moses gave me one last week following a SAR training session and guess what? He was spot on! He gave the sexy dogs ears this morning to a spayed female. Never heard it called that however your description was totally him!! Looking forward to your novel and praying for health, stamina, and rest in the waiting. 🙂
Laura Z: I like “Intelligent override better!” Tell Moses I’ll bet his sexy boy dog ears are adorable!
A therapy dog of mine, Sophia, was visiting with a patient in a hospital. We were with a nurse on the floor as well. Sophia & I had specifically been invited to this patient’s room. My dog’s nickname was, Miss Congeniality, so you can imagine my surprise when she refused to come in close to this patient who was recovering from a traumatic surgery. I cued her to hop up onto a nearby chair so she could be physically closer. She turned her head away and subsequently her whole body on that chair. At first I felt awful, wondering if the patient felt like she didn’t want to be with him. I’ve learned to trust my dog and waited her out to see what she needed as being her best advocate is vital of course. She settled onto the chair while I gently moved the chair away from the bed. A quiet came over the room. It was at this point that the patient started talking to us and asking about my dog. We all had a very nice visit. When we left, the nurse had tears in her eyes asking, “How did Sophia know that the patient needed space? He doesn’t like people getting too close and has been very angry about his surgery. This is the first time we have heard him speak after his surgery.” Indeed – how do they know. Magnificient animals worth listening to!
Wow, Susan J, that is one impressive story. Yay Sophia! I had a St. Bernard once who loved everyone, sweetest thing you’ve ever met. Until one day, I opened the apartment door to a stranger, and Cosby (yeah, another era for sure!) turned into Cujo bad dog. He growled and barked, and at 180 lbs, was downright scary. I felt awful because the man was a minority and I felt like my dog was being a racist. Turns out the guy was the man who buglarized our apartment two weeks before. Wow.
!
I might prefer the term “critical thinking.” Assessing and reacting accordingly based on knowledge, intuition, and experience. It’s what I strive for in myself and my dogs. Our first dog, Sadie, decidedly had it, and I wish I was more of a critical thinker back then to consistently recognize it. Subsequent dogs had varying degrees of critical thinking capacities. It’s not just based on an autonomous life but also on learning, teaching, observing, and context.
Obedience: “implies compliance with the demands or requests of one in authority” (Merriam Webster) and so intelligent obedience is almost an oxymoron. Smartly compliant? Hmmm.
And, another new dog will be joining the village soon—Daisy (named after our Sadie and my dad, who always called Sadie, Daisy). She’s a three-year-old Parson Russell Terrier from the middle of the Michigan Mitten. We’re smitten. Only in her fifth day with us, so much more to come.
LisaW: I hear you; I am not a big fan of the term Intelligent Disobedience either. Someone on FB said we’re basically talking about stimulus control, a good point I thought. I like critical thinking too, much better. And what’s this???? Sadie? Oooo oooo ooo, we can’t wait to meet her!
I am a search and rescue handler and a key part of our training is to make sure that our dogs don’t let us leave a missing person or human remains even if we try to call them off or don’t believe them. So intelligent disobedience is core part of our training. My border collie – who never barks while working – is known to loudly yell at me when I don’t see what she smells and finds. I am grateful for her insistence every search we do.
Love your talking BC Janna. Dogs must think us so stupid when we can’t smell what is obvious to them.
Nowhere near a life and death situation, but at Agility class last week my lovely 10 y/o Springer girl jumped off the up incline of the dog walk when her approach wasn’t right for her. It was her decision, even though I had given her the verbal cue to take the obstacle. Good girl – protecting herself from injury.
Regarding the “hussy dance” and sexy ears, I had a female Norwich Terrier who spent her first five years intact around breeding dogs but was never bred. She was spayed at that time when I adopted her. She was great at communication with other dogs but not very interested in them, with one exception — unneutered males. With them, she would flirt shamelessly, including the “sexy ears” and prancing on her toes. It got to the point where I could tell immediately if the dog approaching was intact, just from her reaction. She was especially flirty if she realized the other dog was on leash, and would dance around them just out of their reach.
I was working at a trail-riding place and leading the riders down a trail we had ridden down often before when my big chestnut just stopped dead and would not go any further. I tried to urge him on but he remained stock still.
And then suddenly I saw it – a large tiger snake just at the side of the path. One of our highly poisonous ones here in Australia.
It uncoiled itself, slithered across the path and disappeared into the undergrowth. Whew. And shortly after, we continued on our way.
I have always been so impressed by that horse’s refusal to move on and his calm stillness near the snake.
Once I was on a workshop with my dog. I made her sit on the green. Rain came in but I stayed out because I wanted to learn from the trainer.
My dog is not water proof. So she decided to go around a fence to the porch of the building nearby where other trainees hide from the rain.
But she stayed exactly alinged with her old position so I could find her easily. I was so proud of my dog to find such a solution.
Several years ago while walking my Am Staff in the metro park I encountered another walker, an older gentleman (late 50’s or early 60’s), he engaged me in conversation about my dog with the usual “beautiful dog, is she friendly”, we stopped and chatted like people do for a few minutes about the weather and the beautiful park, suddenly my dog starting jumping up on me, paws on chest and barking, she NEVER DID THIS to me or anyone before, of course I verbally corrected her insisting she get down now! At just that moment the man’s conversation turned to an explicitly sexual dialogue out of nowhere. Wait…what?!? was basically my thinking. We turned and promptly marched away. Obviously my dog picked up on cues/energy in this man that I did not. After that I ALWAYS listened to my dog. Can’t wait to read your book, I ordered the Education of Will when it first came out and love it.
Congratulations on the book! Can’t wait! At 77, I’m glad that you have a tentative publication goal!
Coincidentally, a few weeks ago I tuned into a Live from the Ranch discussion with Ken Ramirez and Susan Friedman. The topic was “animals have a right to say no.” The discussion was more focused on training work than guide dog work. The concept is one that I think is not included in our training background! We who love dogs and love to work with dogs need to respect their ability to say “no.” We also need to be sensitive to the reasons (in training) for a dog’s saying “no” to a request. Finally, we need to change whatever we need to change that will allow the dog to say “yes”!
Too far off topic? Maybe so. I’m just glad that we are talking about animals having a right to say “no.” It’s our job to figure our why.
Looking forward to more discussion. Will miss the live Larry Meiller’s August 27 show, but will look for it in the archives! Thanks for the heads up!
This wasn’t in response to a specific cue, but like others on this thread, I have experienced my dog Akira “noping out” of walking in a certain well-known, well-loved direction for no discernible reason. The first time he did it, we were heading down a wetlands trail beside a creek he loves to play in. We have encountered the occasional deer or coyote on this trail, and always kept a respectful distance and each went about our business. But this day, he stopped a few steps along and became quite still and alert. I started to move forward, but he stayed put. Then a low rumbling growl, so quiet I nearly didn’t hear it. He just planted himself and refused to move. I couldn’t see or hear anything up ahead, but after a few moments of confusion, the lightbulb finally went off in and I thought, “right, not this trail, not today.” And we turned around and went another direction. I never did hear of anything out of the ordinary out there, but there have been bear sightings in the vicinity before, and we are not all that far from cougar territory. My dude is generally wildlife-curious and loves a good chase (why we walk on a long lead), so if he says no way, I have to think he knows better than me. Now, if he stops on a trail and refuses to walk forward, we nope on out of there together—no need to ask me twice.
I love seeing little examples of this. Right now, I have a litter of puppies at home. Sometimes when I call them inside after playing in the yard, one will ignore me or run away. Almost every time, that is the one who “forgot” to potty. They will do their business, then run inside full speed. These are 6/7 week old babies, but still so perceptive!
I was asked to bring my Therapy Dog to a youth group of 6 to 12 year olds to talk about obedience. I am a subversive person so using D’Artagnan as an example we talked about why sometimes there are rules he needs to obey to keep him safe (never ever get out of the back of the car without permission) but there are times when someone might tell him to do something but if he did he’d hurt someone (if he was told to stand on one of the kids when he weighed 103 lbs it would hurt the kid). The point I wanted the kids to grasp was that there are things that it is good to obey and things that it would be bad to obey. I’m not sure it’s exactly the talk the youth group directors were expecting but I think it is something important for kids and dogs to learn.
I have a Ranger story and a D’Artagnan story to share about them being smart enough to know when not doing something was the right call.
Ranger and I were going for a walk in the nearby woodlands. As we got out of the car I heard someone calling for help. Thinking someone had caught their foot under a root and fallen I was preparing to go find them and see if I could help. Ranger, the friendliest dog in the world who was always prepared to help anyone, absolutely refused to go that direction. No way no how was he going anywhere near there. The person kept calling for help so I called 911 and told them what I was hearing. Once I hung up Ranger took me off on a walk in the opposite direction. When we got back to the parking lot there were a bunch of cops and someone face down with hands cuffed behind them.
We were exploring a new trail with D’Artagnan on a county property. The trail led down into a ravine. We were about half way down when D’Artagnan started insisting that we go back. Since he never wanted to turn back we were surprised but, always listen to your dog, so we turned around. D’Artagnan insisted on waiting until everyone in our party had passed him heading back up the trail before he was willing to start back. I have no idea what was waiting down there in the ravine but if my giant dog said we didn’t want to meet it I wasn’t going to argue.
And just because here’s one more Ranger story. The local pet food store was having a party and if your dog could complete the trick course they’d laid out they’d win a prize based on how many of the tricks they could do. One of the tricks was to do a paws up on a small plastic box. Ranger knew paws up but took a look at this box and knew it wouldn’t hold his weight so he refused. I pulled a chair over and he did a paws up on that to prove he knew the trick but Ranger still refused to go on to the next trick station. Then he suddenly dropped to a down and then put his paws on the plastic box. He figured out a solution that wouldn’t have occurred to me.
Our next Great Pyrenees arrives from Texas on Saturday. We’re looking forward to learning who he is and what examples of brilliance he gifts us. He’s coming from the same rescue as Falkor Bash did. Wish us luck.
A new Pyr Kat??!! So exciting! We can’t wait to hear more . . .
Can you please send the fairy godmother to Australia after your visit?
I love all the stories of all the wisdom humans didn’t (not sure what the right concept is here is) present, conjure, articulate.
Correction, the transport van broke down and the arrival of our new Pyr will be delayed a week. Sigh. All reports from the rescue and the foster family say he’s an absolute jewel. He’s not quite three and huge. This will be the first dog we’ve adopted where the resident dog didn’t get to meet the new one first so I’m wondering if I’ve lost my mind.
Hi all,
These stories are so awesome! I think the biggest take away for me is, always listen to animals if they’re doing something out of the ordinary. Just wanted to give an update on Kyle and me. We haven’t been able to do a ton of work since we got home, because ever since I got back from Oregon, my asthma has tried to kill me. I couldn’t get up out of my chair without trouble, let alone do a route. However, this week has been better, and we’ve done a lot more. The Kyle-File, yes, I’m just that obnoxious with his nicknames, did brilliant work over the last two days. I’m so happy. Working with him again is really cementing our bond, and I’m feeling like I can really work a dog for the long-term. I was so scared once this asthma thing hit two years ago that my guide dog user days were over. Keep the comments coming. I love all the stories!
P.S.
My fault! I forgot to give Trisha my married-name. It’s Lautaret. Sorry! And since there are multiple Lauras within the villiage, I’ll go by Laura L.
Regarding intentional intelligent disobedience, I had an interesting experience with a prior dog while visiting a hospice patient (we were a registered therapy dog team). Rizzo absolutely loved his hospice patients and got so excited to visit with them. One of our patients started actively dying – sleeping most of the day, not wanting water or food, etc. Rizzo could generally give her some energy and joy when she was awake. She had asked us to wake her if she was ever sleeping when we came to visit. One day, we arrived and Rizzo immediately went to her face and sniffed her breath. He completely disengaged from her and refused to interact in any way. She passed a few hours later. I learned that a body produces ketones when death is close, and that they are exhaled. Rizzo smelled the ketones and knew that her passing was very close and he could no longer bring her any joy. He spent the rest of his career telling me that a patient was either just sleeping deeply or was very close to passing. I often passed the information on to the families of the hospice patient with the disclaimer that I couldn’t guarantee any length of time remaining with their loved one. But he was never wrong. I miss that sweet, good boy.
Minnesota Mary: Oh oh oh. What a story. Reminiscent of the cat who did the same. (https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5624465) Did not know about the exhalation of ketones, thank you so much for that info. Wow. Just wow.
I loved your review of the book and discussion of intelligent disobedience–so interesting, thank you! But most of all I am ecstatic that you have a publisher!! Publishing is so slow, such a long wait even for the contract, but I cannot wait to read your new book when it is out!!
Dog intelligence is amazing. One day I was walking Robby while my husband went fishing. He would not go the usual way despite my coaxing. So I followed him across the street, through a parking lot, up several tiers of stairs, and into our doctor’s office. He continued past the receptionist, down the hall, around the corner, and into his office. Our doctor came out, happy to see Robby and me. He told me it was very nice to pet Robby. His dog had died the previous day.
As the companion (I hesitate to say owner) of a Great Pyrenees, I wanted to leap to my feet and cheer when reading about “intelligent disobedience”. I know you’ve lived with Great Pyrenees (I miss Tulip), so you surely know why. 😁
Flora: Oh oh, I miss Tulip too! And Bo Peep. (I named the LGD in my novel after our first GP, Bo Peep, because, well, there just isn’t a better name for a sheep guarding dog than that.
A big part of training for dog intelligence is a rich environment where they have the opportunity to explore. My dogs are rarely on a leash, which means they have learned to make good decisions.
In the 90’s lived in the foothills in northern British Columbia, Canada. A Great Pyr swam a river and ‘appeared’ on our property. Couldn’t determine who owned him, so we kept him (the rest of his life, 10 years). Several times while taking a walk with him, he whirled around, hind legs on the ground and thumped my shoulders with his front paws. Then he blocked me from going forward until he decided it was safe. Once it was as long as 20 or 30 minutes. Occasionally I heard something, but those times never saw what it was. But because I had seen him chase away bears, deer, elk, and coyotes, either from our animals or fields, I trusted that he sensed danger. His self taught method of ‘stay put thick human’ always amused me and also made me very grateful for his protective instincts.