If you know my work you know that “It Depends” is my answer to 95% of all questions asked about dog behavior.
Question: “Should I intervene if my dog growls at a puppy?” Answer: It depends.
Question: “What would you do if your well-trained dog looked at you when you called him back, and then takes off running in the other direction?” Answer: It depends.
I usually say “It depends” in partial jest, knowing how useless it must sound to the person hearing it. But “It Depends” has an important kernel of truth in it, because cookie cutter formulas don’t work with animals as complicated as dogs. How to handle a behavioral issue depends on so many things: the age of the dog, the level of training, the intensity of the distraction, etc.
I heard another version of this at the Derek Fisher sheepdog clinic I attended recently, hosted by the good folks at Cedar Stone Farm. The first day Derek had me encouraging Maggie to speed up, “be bad,” get in there and move the sheep, have fun, Eeee Ha! This is good advice for a dog like Maggie (and Willie), who are, paraphrasing Derek’s words, “inherently good dogs who need to learn to be a little bad.” (In other words, to be comfortable putting more pressure on the sheep, versus dogs who need to put less pressure on the sheep.) The next day, Maggie had taken her lesson to heart. She barreled the sheep toward me on the fetch, and, atypically, didn’t lie down when asked. I wasn’t concerned, since she was basically doing what we had asked the day before (“be bad”), but it did bring up a question from me to Derek that I knew was getting into tricky territory.
How long do I ignore an incorrect response while working on helping her learn to push? Part of the answer was simple: “If you ask her to stop, then she needs to stop. But you probably shouldn’t have asked her to stop at that point.” (Obvious now, of course… but then? Not so much.) The harder question was: “Given that I am trying to teach her to love to push, what should I do when I do ask her to stop, and she doesn’t?”
This is where I would say to a client, “It Depends.” Derek’s answer, not being me, was not “It Depends,” but what he said adds a lot of depth to it. He said “Imagine that every time you have a choice about how to respond to your dog there are four doors in front of you. You can go through Door 1, 2, 3 or 4. Once through, you’ll be faced with 4 more doors. Go through door #3, and you’ll find 4 more after that. In other words, there are always a number of ways that we can respond to our dog’s behavior. Only thing is, you can’t go backwards. Once you go through Door #1, you only have its doors in front of you. What’s most important is to avoid going through one that you’ll later wish you had avoided.
I loved this analogy, in part I suppose because it presents such a perfect visual image of all the choices one has to make when training. And it emphasizes the importance of not doing something you can’t take back. For example, if one gets angry at a dog when the dog is trying to learn something new… Well, that is a door you’ve walked through, and your next options are driven by having made that choice. You can’t go back through the door of “anger” and choose another door. The other doors may or may not be perfect responses, but at least you haven’t traveled down a road on which you wish you’d never started.
Of course, the question then becomes, how do you decide which other door to go through? Well, first, since you can’t go backwards, anger is a lousy choice in just about any training scenario. Second, which of the other doors to pick depends on many things, but I’d argue that the most important is based on WHY your dog did what it did. Why did Maggie ignore my lie down whistle? There are several possibilities: She was so charged up that she truly wasn’t listening, or she was afraid to stop, or she thought going fast was killer fun and didn’t want to stop, or my whistle signal was poorly blown and she didn’t understand it. Etc Etc Etc. In Maggie’s case, it makes sense that she wasn’t stopping because she had discovered the joys of “being bad,” which is just what we wanted. It was clear that the best plan was to ignore the lack of response, but then ask for a stop later, in another context when we weren’t asking her to throw caution to the wind.
Let’s take this out of the pasture, and into your yard. What if Chester takes one look at you, ignores your recall and chases a squirrel up a tree. What to do? Well, first, try not to go through the wrong door. Getting mad probably isn’t going to help. Don’t go through a door that is going to limit your choices and destroy the relationship between you and your dog. Rather, ask yourself why you think your dog ignored you in the first place. Could the answer be because you haven’t proofed the cue at that level of distraction yet? If so, then time for a structured program of teaching a recall with gradually intensifying distractions. Did Chester ignore you because you’ve poisoned the cue, and used it to cut Chester’s nails and give him a bath, all of which he hates? Then it’s time to go back to using positive reinforcement for a recall (or to change the signal altogether?). Did Chester ignore you because you didn’t actually use your cue at all, and instead just said “Chester!,” instead of “Chester, Come?” Time, then, to practice how you use words to communicate with your dog. Did Chester ignore you because the reinforcement you have been offering is worth ignoring a dog down the street, but not a squirrel that just ran in front of him and scampered up a tree? Better get out the chicken, or better, yet, teach Chester that you’ll give him an even better chase game if he comes to you first. (If it’s safe, that might even include releasing him to go back to chasing the squirrel.)
You get the idea. Ask yourself WHY your dog did what he or she did, use that information to train in a similar context and while mindful of not going through the wrong door. (There are lots of ‘wrong doors’ beside the ‘anger door;’ I just used that because it is so common for us to go all “chimp-in-a-bad-mood” on our dogs…) I’d love to hear your examples of answering the question “It Depends” with WHAT it depends upon. How have you used that kind of reasoning to work through a training problem?
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Busy weekend! Lots of yard and garden work, capped it off with homemade fried chicken and a sour cherry pie from a neighbor’s tree (thank you Sandie!) while cheering on the USA team at the Women’s World Cup Finals. Yay!
The sheep got to forage in the “Play Pen,” (originally designed years ago, for Luke and his daughter to play in) while Maggie and Willie watched. It’s about a quarter of an acre, and gives me a place to put them sheep when I’m too lazy or busy to herd them up the hill.
Polly and Nellie came over to watch too. They love the new stone wall, they spend lots of time up on it, while we get to enjoy watching them amongst the flowers. Here’s Polly enjoying the sun while I enjoyed her among the flowers.
Lacey says
Ah, yes! People so often fail to realize how much it depends – with children too. I was a special education teacher, and many times people said “That was what I did, but it worked for you.” The context was different, the student was perhaps at a different stage, the reinforcement ratio was different. Dogs are not furry children, but they are still living beings with feelings.
Rachel says
We say “It depends” a lot in my line of work (human healthcare), too. I’ve learned there’s no end to the variations possible when dealing with live creatures and how they can understand, misunderstand, cooperate, fail to cooperate, and cause damage to themselves or others. The only variable I can control is my own actions- which is sometimes a real test of patience and resolve.
I had a couple of “Depends” moments with the boys today. We left the house early this morning for a walk. Less than a half block from the house we spotted another dog across the street. I’ve been working with Remus on not barking like a crazed, happy maniac every time he sees a dog he wants to play with, and it’s been going well. I cued him to watch me and slipped him a treat. We kept walking. The dog across the street spotted us, and immediately went stiff, mouth closed, tail up, and pulled right to the end of his leash. His owner became flustered (can’t blame her) and ineffectively called Buster to “come” and “leave it,” which he ignored. He was staring hard and growling very low.
Remus gave one low, short bark, then looked back to me. Sieger positioned himself between me and Buster, and we ducked behind a parked car. Buster’s owner dragged him down the street and disappeared. Sieger could see when they disappeared, and then did something that surprised me: he laid down on the ground and refused to move. He NEVER does that. After failed attempts at coaxing him up, I gave up and told him I guessed we would go home. Sure enough, he got up and trotted straight back to the house.
The two depends moments:
1) Remus barking. I’ve been discouraging (positive reinforcement of quiet responses, introduction of a “‘quiet” cue) barking for Remus for months now, and he almost never does it anymore. This wasn’t his usual high pitched, happy, let’s play bark. It was low, short, and definitely more of a warning; his body language was not relaxed and not aggressive, but definitely concerned: he pulled closer to me, his ears were up, his brow was slightly furrowed and he had “worried eyes.” I decided not to tell him quiet, we just moved out of sight. It was a split second decision, but in retrospect it seems like the best idea. The dog across the street was looking at us like we were tasty snacks, and Remus was clearly responding to a very real threat in a calm and measured way. He was still listening and responding to my commands, and once we were hidden he got treats for listening.
2) Sieger refusing to walk. Sieger is a dog in motion, he’s never refused to walk before. When I gave up and told him we’d go home, he sprang up and trotted away like nothing had happened, but seemed in a big hurry to get in the house. I didn’t “correct him” (something I don’t do anyway, but it sure was annoying to walk half a block and get shut down) for not walking, and he seemed much happier in the house. Sieger has always had a knack for reading other dogs, and I suspect he was asserting his feeling as my “big dog” that walking was not safe while Buster was out roaming around the neighborhood.
Oddly enough, a couple minutes after going in the house I realized I had left a bag of dog poo in the middle of the driveway. I went to retrieve it, and who should be across from my house but Buster and his human. He immediately went stiff again and gave me hard eye like I have never seen before. I moved back out of sight and got back in the house.
After thinking it all through all day today, I’m definitely thankful that my boys were not exactly compliant the way I usually want them to be, but acted with some degree of independence to protect us all from definite trouble. It would have been easy to lose patience with both of them for being stubborn and doing their own thing, but looking at the whole scene from more of a distance, it seems clear they were reading the scenario faster than I could and taking action to prevent a fight (and still listening to me when my brain caught up). Our actions in response to a behavior have to take into account the dog’s motivation for the behavior.
Barbara says
The door analogy is interesting and scary, almost paralyzing. Will I be OK if I decide anger is the one door I won’t go through? What other mistakes can I make that I can’t undo?
Otherwise, I like the “It depends” answer. Shall I intervene when my adult GSD growls at my new GSD puppy? The first time I was appalled. Miley lit into the 8 week old puppy and pinned him with her jaws around his head. I did not see what led to her reaction. But after a few moments of watching I understood what she was doing. Then I counted my blessings that my well-socialized four year old was teaching the new pup the rules. He still needs reminders and she obliges (more gently now), but he is learning. Scary at first until I realized that Miley is doing no physical damage while helping Casey learn his manners.
I am reminded of a phrase I read in a book. “Thought before action, if there is time.” Usually there is time.
Paved by Paw Prints says
Great post! I love the doors analogy – there’s so many incorrect ways to respond to a dog behaviour and you just need to choose through the right door! It’s a great way to think of what you should do next before responding to the dog. I can’t think of many ‘It Depends’ questions off the top of my head but ‘It Depends’ would probably be my answer!
Rachelle Hunt says
thanks Tricia for all those wonderful books and this weekly notebook of your thoughts and happenings with dogs. I so enjoy it! Rachelle
HFR says
“It depends” makes sense for most things in life (it would make a great t-shirt, altho not sure if it would make people think of the product instead of the thought). But I think it also applies to not only the dog’s context, but the person’s too, if that makes sense.
My problem with training has always been the inability to think before doing. I am pretty well schooled in which door is the right door to go through so as not to regret the choice later. But knowing which door is the right door and choosing that door in the heat of the moment is another thing entirely for me.
If your dog is running after a squirrel (and like my dog, will stop at nothing to catch it), my adrenaline kicks into high gear and my immediate reaction is to raise my voice multiple decibels, use words that make no sense to the dog and worst of all, get angry. I’ve often thought that I wish there was a training method that would work for people like me, who have trouble staying calm and training in a calm manner.
Let’s face it, the long-term behavior problems that most people have with their dogs are ones that usually have the most negative consequences: aggression, running away (no recall), pulling on the leash so hard as to hurt the owner, jumping, chasing cars, etc. So that when they happen, it’s hard to keep your head about you and not just scream bloody murder. Or at least it is for me.
A good example for me is listening to you describe the lessons of your herding instructor (who sounds very wise). Do you find it difficult to keep your emotions in check (mostly disappointment and frustrations over your dog’s performance) and actually be able to analyze the situation as carefully as he can? When I was competing in agility, I found it practically impossible. Like herding, it’s a fast moving sport and it was very difficult to keep myself from acting on my emotions first and intellect second. I realize this is a personal flaw on my part and that some people are better at it than I am, but I do find it frustrating when trainers tell me, “Just figure out why it is happening and then act accordingly”, who has the time to do that at the moment? And by the time you do, you’ve already walked through the wrong door.
Not sure there is such a way for a person to train for that, but I’m on board if there is!
Laura says
I use “It depends” a lot, and every time I do I think of you Tricia. I use it when anyone asks how long our dogs work, because it could depend on a lot of things. If the dog has to retire early because of an unforeseen medical problem, like my first, or if the dog has a longer career and just retires because he wants to, like my second. Other dogs have to retire because of changes in the handler’s life style and some dogs can’t handle it, like a move from the country to the city. people also seem to think that my dog will protect me from anyone trying to attack me. Rather than say, it depends, and give them an impression that my dog would react aggressively to protect me, I say that I wouldn’t count on it, because our dogs aren’t bread with that temperament in mind. I really don’t know why so many people want to believe that my dog would do that, when that’s not what he’s trained to do, do they want an all-in-one dog, guide and protector? Personally, I think my second dog would’ve at most growled at someone threatening, but my other two, no way. Also, in our everyday work, it depends, comes up a lot. To use your door analogy, do I get upset when my dog comes to a sudden stop? It depends. What is the reason for the stop? if he stops suddenly and is still standing calmly beside me, relaxed and looking straight ahead, I’ll check out whatever’s in front of us. This happened last Friday as he stopped suddenly at some stairs which I hadn’t known were there. I probed out with my foot and found them and he got kibble and lots of verbal praise from me. If he stops suddenly, but his head is off in another direction, his ears are up and he begins to turn his body towards whatever is distracting him, then I take a more disciplined role and get him back on track. Again, last Friday, granted we were in a new environment, and he thought all lampposts had interesting smells, which they probably did. I stopped him and did a few quick sits and downs, just to make sure he was paying attention to me and not to the good smelling lampposts. It worked, but those are the contexts when I would use that phrase.
Bruce says
Love the stone wall, Patricia. Good hardscape makes a garden sing, and clearly the cats approve.
The door analogy is brilliant, thank you for sharing it. Analogous to the Hippocratic Oath for dog training – “But first do no harm.” The door analogy helped me find a better solution to an issue I have been having with Red Dog.
Scenario: Red Dog and I go on long hikes in the woods. Red Dog is off leash once we get a safe distance from the road and parking lot. Red Dog has never shown a tendency to wander off; in contrast, she seems quite worried if she loses track of where I am.
Problem: Red Dog’s fur blends into the woods nicely, so I often lose sight of her. Since dogs have vastly superior sensory apparatus, Red Dog usually knows where I am even when I cannot see her. I had been getting frustrated with her “disappearances” and yelling at her to return. Usually she was close by, knew exactly where I was, and seemed confused as to why I was upset. This was starting to affect her previously enthusiastic recalls.
Solution: When I lose sight of Red Dog, I hide behind a tree instead of yelling. Red Dog knows the “find the human” game, and, once she realizes she has lost track of me, runs enthusiastically to find me and get her reward. This is a far better outcome than poisoning the recall. I just needed to trust the dog and the training we have done, and exercise a little more patience (not one of my strong suits, unfortunately). Hiding leads to much better “doors” compared with yelling.
Thank you, Patricia, for helping me to work through this problem. And Barbara, thank you for sharing “Thought before action, if there is time.”
Christy Paxton says
Another fabulous post! I too use “It depends” a lot; I also ask “What do you do when that happens?” to identify what wrong moves have already been taken. Since I like to use “sticky” reminders (like SMART, thanks Kathy Sdao!), I have developed a Problem Solving Formula for clients to follow: Old habit – benefit + new habit + benefit = problem solved! It lacks the subtleties of “It depends” but has been easy for clients to understand and use.
Andy says
The elderly neighbor yard dog curls up next to our fence to stay cool (we live in Texas). My high-drive, fearful dog knows he’s there, so I’ve put up additional layers of 2 by 4s to give the old dog some added protection. Cecil is still a bit obsessed, but we’ve been able to work up a good, brisk recall against that part of the yard, especially when we’re playing ball, which Cecil adores.
However, sometimes the recall fails. Sometimes I can get to Cecil before he erupts and gets harder to wrangle, but sometimes he gets “stuck” and bounces around and around, likely frightening the old dog.
I believe the recall is most likely to fail when Cecil is tired of our game and getting bored. Prevention is easier with this knowledge, and cutting the play session short is likely the best approach. The challenge for *me* is that I really like to tire him out (he is a busy boy!) so I prefer long play sessions.
I find that I obsess most on the most stressful aspect of our training failures – that is, when Cecil has passed his threshold and is putting on a big, potentially hazardous show. I’m not going to use physical punishments, but I need him to stop to be able to manage him, so I’ve settled on brief absences – I just say, “I’m not going to do that” and leave. It’s not ideal by any means, but a good 10 minute separation gets him out of his zone and makes me worth paying attention to. But I know that this isn’t really a good learning experience – much better to avoid the need for these measures in the first place.
Thinking through this situation by examining the antecedents is helpful, thanks for writing this post!
Nic1 says
Great post!
How do we feel anger? Which comes first? The emotion drives the behaviour or the behaviour drives the emotion?
I read ‘The Chimp Paradox’ by Steve Peters and it really helped me rationalise and control anger responses in a couple of work scenarios a bit better. I don’t have to react to the feeling anymore now that I understand a bit more about the biology. It IS possible to manage your responses to primary emotion like anger (almost like re-wiring your brain) but it is a real commitment to recognise it and constantly work at it. You can’t change it, but you can learn to keep a lid on it. Not easy though…..
I agree, anger is usually a lousy choice in dog training and ‘it depends’ reflects the many, many shades of grey in dog training and life in general.
Lacey says
@ HFR: If you think through the situation before it happens and choose your best response, then rehearse it without the problem, it will be easier for you to control the anger and just plug in the response. This works with people as well as dogs! The practice away from the triggering problem enables you to control yourself. People are trainable.
LisaW says
The door visual is interesting but for me would be very distracting. I would be standing there imagining the four doors and the four doors and the four doors and meanwhile, my dog has no clue what I’m doing or what I wanted five minutes ago or has wandered off to check out something of greater interest that isn’t frozen in space and time.
My immediate response often depends on what part of my brain can I conger up more quickly: the rational or irrational? Or to put it another way, am I cogent enough to quickly run through the why and what now before I utter a word? Sometimes.
What I have been able to ingrain into my brain is how different my two dogs are in how they learn and how they respond to cues or body posture or voices. What works for one dog would be almost imperceptible to the other dog. And conversely, what works for one dog would be over-the-top too much for the other dog. I have to make that distinction in my head before I can effectively respond or correct.
One thing you wrote, Trisha, made me curious: “Don’t go through a door that is going to limit your choices and destroy the relationship between you and your dog.” It seemed very final to me — if you pick the wrong door once you can’t pick the right door next time? Not sure what I’m missing here.
@Andy: When I see that Olive is about to make a poor choice or work herself up, I immediately do “find its” with her. We have done this for so long now that it truly has changed her mind about many things. It’s been one of the best things I learned and it also allows me to respond appropriately.
em says
What an interesting analogy! I would point out, for those who feel a bit overwhelmed by the image, that despite the daunting number of combinations, many of the different pathways through the doors of our training options actually end up in the same place.
I’d also caution against worrying too much about choices that can’t be undone. It’s true that we can’t unring the bell if we react badly or make a choice that doesn’t work out in our dog training, but most dogs are much more resilient and flexible than many people give them credit for- we may not be able to go backwards, but we can change direction if we don’t like the path that we’re on.
@Bruce- my Sandy dog has a similar tendency to disappear into the landscape due to her camouflaging coloring. It’s caused a minor amount of strife between myself and my husband who tends to get frustrated and snappish when calling her back into view. I then get snappish with HIM, because in my view she’s not doing anything wrong, and I feel we have a responsibility to ASK nicely first before snapping at the dogs, if we’re going to snap at all. He takes the “correction” with good grace, mostly 😉
Anyhow, my dirty little secret is that I constantly need to remind MYSELF that a) she’s not in danger or disobeying any rule and b) I’m not asking for anything unpleasant- so my demeanor really should reflect that. Making a conscious effort to call her in a happy, relaxed voice (I don’t intend to reprimand her, after all, but to invite her to come in my direction) and pepper my casual recalls (come this way/back into view, but I don’t need you all the way back) with hard recalls (come right to me) and big rewards have helped immensely.
Also, it sounds dumb, but what sometimes helps me remember my goals is to speak to the dogs conversationally. Calling out, ‘Sandy, I need to see you, sweetie.” or “Otis, you can’t dilly dally there by the crossroads.” doesn’t mean diddly squat to them in terms of training cues, but it does remind ME of the tone I’m trying to achieve if I do need to follow up with a formal cue. Often, though, just gently getting their attention works fine- they know what I want from context.
Lacey says
@HFR: People can train themselves, too. First you choose the most appropriate reaction you might make, e.g. to a dog’s pull on a leash. Then you practice that reaction, first without the dog, then in an otherwise low-stimulus situation, etc.
Eva says
@HFR: I know exactly what you mean. I was this type of person too – frustrated with every incorrect choice my dogs made, yelling at them constantly without thinking… Then I got my youngest dog, who´s 2,5 years old at the moment. And everything changed. He´s so reactive and prone to overexcitement over just about any stimulus (smells, dogs, a moving leaf… and especially my own mental state) that I had no other choice than to change my thinking and behavior. Otherwise he would just spend most of his life in a state of total adrenaline overdrive – screaming, lunging, trembling, salivating, even vomiting… He´s giving me lots of important lessons – about calmness, patience… and above all: about unconditional love regardless of his faults and mistakes.
So my answer is: yes, there are definitely ways to train owners. And sometimes the best trainer you can get is your own dog <3
Marimar says
Hi Trisha… loving your posts and books. Just read “Feisty Fido” and recommended some friends of mine (from Spain) read it but… is it not translated into Spanish? Somebody knows?
JCZ says
I wasn’t expecting this to be my morning inspiration, but it is. This blog and the comments are a great read.
Andy says
@LisaW – thanks much for the tip! I did “find its” (or, in our case, “go get its”) on our walks but have not tried it in the yard. I will bring them back in both contexts. I gravitate towards “sit” in high-stress situations which, when you think about it, is asking a heckuva lot of a dog who is having a little meltdown!
Kat says
It depends, context is key. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve responded with those words to the question “why is my dog …” For myself I find that all too often what I think I’m training and what the dog is learning aren’t quite the same. Psycho bitch Finna couldn’t be let outside until I was sure the neighbors were’t doing anything that cause her to react–since her reactivity would have her throwing herself against the fence trying to get through to deal with them knowing they weren’t out was critically important in the early days. I spent hours and hours training wait at door, don’t go out until released. Today she has a good solid wait at door but she has an incredible release cue. One day we were playing ball when the neighbors came home and let their pack of little dogs out. Their ill behaved and ill trained pack of brats immediately heads toward our fence and my reactive dog yapping their threats and she responds in kind. I think it was something I read in one of the comments on one of your blog posts that prompted me to call out her release cue “Finna, that’ll do” but she immediately stopped barking, whirled away from the fence, grabbed her ball off the ground where she’d dropped it, and came running back to play ball. Apparently, all those hours I’d spent training her to wait at door she’d been learning that “that’ll do” meant you can stop doing that thing you’re doing that you aren’t really enjoying and do something fun instead. I love figuring out what my dog’s are thinking from the context of their actions.
Donna in VA says
My example is barking in various appropriate and inappropriate situations. My Sheltie has a loud bark. When we are outside on a walk and apparently just seems to want to announce his presence to nature I do nothing, he’s welcome to bark where nobody is being disturbed. I do have a “quiet” hand signal to him of there are people nearby who might be concerned.
If he barks out the window in the house, I usually check to see if there’s anything outside of concern, then call him away from the window, he’s usually happy to stick with me.
However my husband used to work from home and he managed to train the dog into becoming agitated and barking at him when he was on the phone (he also barks at me on the phone as well, but that’s less of a problem.) Hubby’s reaction was to get mad, put the dog out of the room and slam the door. You can imagine how that just intensified the problem.
My latest problem is that the dog has learned to tattle on the cat being up on the kitchen counter. I don’t want the cat on the counter and would yell at her and step towards her to prompt her to jump down. This just intensified his barking until he was ready to start a fight as she jumped to the floor. So I now remain calm, don’t move, yell at the cat (the dog is deaf now so not picking this up) and look at the dog with a “cut it out” hand signal. Right now he’s just giving one bark when she jumps up and staying in place instead of trying to intercept her on the way to the floor. So we’re getting there.
Trisha says
I love the comments that remind us that, although you can’t go backwards, you often don’t need to. I wouldn’t want anyone to be paralyzed with indecision based on the belief that once you’ve done something you can never take it back. em’s point that most dogs are resilient is an important one. I do think that progressive trainers have become too worried sometimes about harming their dog if they are not always using positive reinforcement. (Which I have argued isn’t possible anyway.) What I was trying to convey was trying to keep anger out of your repertoire as much as possible.
(But… of course, there are always exceptions. I “lost it” once when a dog continued to bash into me, hurting me badly a couple of times, always grinning as if he was having the best of times. I never approached the dog or touched it any way, but I let myself be as angry as I was with my voice alone. There was yelling. Bad words were used. It worked. Basher stopped bruising me, and we never looked back. I ONLY would have done this because I knew the dog well, and was sure that he was stable and confident. He just needed to discover that you can’t always do anything that is fun for you in a social setting with no consequences.)
So… it is true that different doors often end up in the same place. Love that analogy, em!
To HFR, (who I adore for being honest that she is not always her best self around her dogs): I feel your pain. I wish I could say that 100% of the time I am the embodyment of benevolent wisdom around my dogs. Or my friends, for that matter. But, sigh, I find I am human, and a human who can occasionally raise her voice to her dogs at a difficult moment, or answer impatiently to a person in the same context. (“I’m not rude,” said Elaine on one Seinfeld episode, I’m just ‘snappy.”) Here are some things for anyone to try if they feel the need to change their instant response in a crisis (or a perceived one) from yelling to something less dramatic.
1. Try going through a day or two being completely silent to your dogs. It’s a great exercise. I’ve done it a few times, and found it instructive and educational. I hereby admit to have hummed to Willie when we cuddled at night, but at least no words were spoken. It’s only an indirect method of helping your brain and body be less reactive, but it’s worth a try.
2. I am a big believer in speaking conversationally, as suggested in the comments. ” There something about a “cue” or “command,” whatever you want to call it, that forces us to try to put all our energy into one or two short words. Calling out an entire sentence helps everyone relax, disperses the energy and makes your communication a conversation rather than a command that must instantly be obeyed.
3. Singing is good too. I used to yell LIE DOWN! in a panic to my first working Border Collie. I simply couldn’t get my head around the fact that a dog would hit the dirt to a whispered command when it was 100 yards away. Eventually I taught myself to say Lie Down as if I was singing a high note, then a low one. It changes my affect and takes a lot of the tension away.
4. Duck tape. Yup, used that too, at least in a way. After I got Willie I was coached to not lie him down at all while fetching the sheep to me, he needing to learn to push more and stay on his feet. (Maggie has the same need, go figure.) But saying “lie down” when you’re playing high speed three-dimensional chess with living, breathing chess pieces is the only way novices have to slow things down and give themselves a break. Honest, it’s exhausting at first trying to keep up with everything that is happening between 3 different species, all with different agendas. I tried and tried to say silent with Willie, but couldn’t quite manage it. So I put duct tape on my mouth for one herding session. I hated the feel of it so much that I switched to simply putting one hand over my mouth, which worked just fine, and didn’t hurt to pull off.
4. Context context context: Think about what contexts cause you to over react, and then work on just one at a time. Just be as clear and consistent as you would be if training your dog a new trick. And patient. Even more patient. Nothing is harder to train than a human, and no human is harder to train than yourself!
Bruce says
@ em: Thank you, your suggestions are helpful. I have similar conversations with the dogs, often saying “This way” to give advance notice of direction changes, “Let’s go” when it is time to move on from an interesting smell or a roll in the grass, or “What is it?” when Red Dog is in full critter-alert mode.
I like your distinction between a “casual recall” versus a hard recall. I whistle when Red Dog wanders beyond my comfort zone, but the whistle is a suggestion rather than a must-obey commend. I do find casual recalls quite useful, and the more time we spend off-leash, the better the dog becomes at figuring out what is expected based on context.
Quick unrelated story: Red Dog can be overly enthusiastic when greeting other dogs, so I have her sit and wait when we encounter dogs on our walks. The other day Red Dog was off-leash in the front yard when the neighbor walked by with her somewhat unpredictable Shepherd mix. I quickly told Red Dog to site and then attached the leash.
I ran into the same neighbor this morning, and she was effusive about how Red Dog is so well-trained. I was initially surprised, but it is easy to forget that for many folks, having a dog that follows basic commands with fairly mild distractions is a big deal. Trust me; I am not going to break my arm patting myself on the back. Karma is a female dog. 🙂
Rachel says
LisaW- In response to your question about the doors:
“One thing you wrote, Trisha, made me curious: “Don’t go through a door that is going to limit your choices and destroy the relationship between you and your dog.” It seemed very final to me — if you pick the wrong door once you can’t pick the right door next time? Not sure what I’m missing here.”
I think (and correct me if I’m wrong, Tricia) that the main emphasis is on that moment, although *depending* on the dog it could be long term, too. If the dog runs away when you cue “come” and you explode, you can’t take back that explosion for that training session. You’ve gone through the “yelling angry human” door, and whatever else follows is going to be limited by that choice. Now, maybe your dog is confident and well adjusted and tomorrow he laughs off your explosion and you still have all the regular doors available to you in your next training session. But maybe he was already fearful or nervous or (whatever) and doesn’t reset the next day, then you’re stuck with the fact that you went through the “yelling angry human” door, and your choices will be limited by what’s on the other side until you can earn the dog’s trust back.
This conversation reminds me of a parenting book I read when my oldest daughter was little. “The Explosive Child: A New Approach for Understanding and Parenting Easily Frustrated, Chronically Inflexible Children” was not the parenting book I wanted to be reading, but raising a toddler who has PTSD is a real trip (ask me about it sometime!). One of the strategies discussed in the book, as I recall, was “Plan C.” Short version, Plan A was your ideal version of how you wanted things to happen with the child in a given situation (“You will eat your dinner, and it will be the same dinner I prepared for everyone else.”). Plan B was the back up (“You will eat the chicken nuggets I have for when you don’t like meatloaf.”). Plan C was the plan that kicked in when the child was not having an ideal, perfect world day. Plan C might be “I’m ordering pizza, delivery,” or “You don’t scream bloody murder through everyone elses’ dinner” or “You ate a bowl of ice cream for dinner and I’m happy with that because it was calories in your tummy and I didn’t need a stiff drink afterward.”
The main keys were that you had to know the child’s triggers, their motivation, and your own limits. You also have to be able to adjust your goals; a reasonable goal on a perfect day might be a completely unreasonable goal on a mediocre or bad day, and you’re only going to make yourself and everyone else miserable if you keep insisting on the “perfect” goal. I think it transfers pretty well to dogs as well as children; we all know that nobody has a perfect day every day, so we may as well lighten up on ourselves and adjust our expectations and responses accordingly.
HFR says
Well, I win this week for learning the most from your blog!
Seriously, thank you everyone for such great tips. I especially like the one about rehearsing the situation without your dog, singing the commands and going silent with your dogs for a day. I’m going to try all of them. (Not at the same time tho.)
It is definitely one of my weakest points. I talk too much to the dog. Even in nosework now, the comments from the judges inevitably include “Stop talking so much”. The great side effect of keeping quiet is that you actually get to see what your dog is doing really clearly and without the distraction of your own voice. Less talking, more thinking. Train myself.
Trisha, I have to say, it is so comforting when you tell stories about how you have lost your cool in the past. We are human. I’m getting better, so there’s that.
I really wish someone would have taken a picture of you with duct tape over your mouth… I just wonder what the dog was thinking. 🙂
liz says
Sticking with the door analogy, I think that the risk of no turning back is greatest when the same door is chosen on multiple occasions across multiple contexts. Speaking from experience, training pitfalls are magnified when repeated. So if a dog is struggling with any aspect of training, and that aspect takes place across many sessions, it’s well on it’s way to becoming habit. The relationship with a dog could ultimately be affected by things besides an isolated angry reaction, rather by long-term frustration caused by repeated lack of communication and/or inability to influence behavior. I addressed this by avoiding the source of stress as much as possible for awhile, focusing on our successes, and accepting a whole ton of things: that I’m trying my best, that my self-awareness is limited, that my understanding of my dogs’ true motivations are educated guesses at best, and that our improvement is more satisfying than our perfection. Totally easier said than done.
em says
@Bruce, thanks for your kind response, it sounds like you and Red dog have a great time on your adventures!
One more thing that I thought of after I posted that may or may not be of interest to you: during hunting season, we have a blaze orange visibility vest for Sandy- we bought it online from a retailer that specializes in gear for hunting dogs, but our local Country Max has a version as well. It’s a light and simple thing that attaches with velcro but the difference it makes in ease of Sandy spotting (autumn is the WORST for losing sight of the dog against the foliage for us, all she has to do is stand still for a moment and she vanishes) is HUGE.
Happy Hiking!
Steph says
Our 2-year old collie mix “Bruce” is good off leash and with recalls; and good with dogs, people, and children (he is very patient and forgiving with kids, and mostly ignores them).
We go on daily off-leash walks in a nearby dog-friendly reservoir that is frequently visited by dogs and families.
The following scenario happened this week for the first time:
There is this one stretch with high grass and other “tickly” plants he loves to run through in full speed and with excitement/joy. It must be a sensational feeling on his body or something – beautiful to watch him run back and forth.
There was a family with a 3-year old child approx. 30 feet away and while he was running around, what seems was he ran towards the child and made a playful noise. We recalled him and he came back immediately (thanks to extensive training!) and put him on leash. In the meantime the father had picked up the child and gave us certain looks. Understandably, he and the child were shocked, concerned and scared and we apologized. I felt really bad and was probably as much concerned as they were – he has never done this before and we did not see this coming. However, we “ignored” this behaviour in that moment- meaning we did not get angry with him or do anything to punish him. All we did was to recall and put him on leash, which I believe is the best response there is to give in a situation like this (thoughts anyone?)
My question to the group is, what about next time? My thought is, to prevent a “next time”: Recall immediately when a child is in sight. I would really like to hear what others have to say. Is there a “it depends” in this situation? And what door is there to avoid and which doors are an option? Keep in mind this is a behaviour I do not want to see ever again!
Cheers,
Steph
Margaret McLaughlin says
@Steph Well, it depends…. When I used to walk my Keeshond off-leash in a local linear park (along a millrace) I found that while a recall is good & very useful, the ability to stop/drop the dog from a distance is even better. It accomplishes several good things simultaneously: demonstrates to any concerned humans that your dog is a) under full control, & b) no threat at all, defuses potential trouble with other loose dogs, since a dog lying down will not (usually, it depends) stimulate a chase/prey reaction in other dogs, & enables you to walk quietly up to your dog & praise & treat the socks off him. And if you can do it with a hand signal, it looks really flashy:)
Even though the dreaded Drop on Recall is the most-often-flunked exercise in Open A, it’s really not hard to teach with positive reinforcement. The core is to teach the dog that great stuff happens when he follows a cue when AWAY from you, & that reinforcement can also happen from away. As with everything, start in a familiar environment. I first taught my Flat-Coat, Nina, to foot-target a cookie tin, in the kitchen. I started moving further & further away from her, clicking for contact, & throwing treats. Soon I was at 20 feet, & she was slamming the tin like a hockey puck. Then I moved back in, & asked for a down with her foot on the tin, & gradually backed back up. I replaced the tin with painter’s tape (thank you, Denise Fenzi), & then we moved outside. I ran quickly through the steps again, upping the treat to a tennis ball, & decreasing the size of the tape target.
If you’re not competing in Obedience you don’t need that much precision, & your dog’s motivators might be different–chicken? Squeaky toy?–but the basic steps of teaching your dog to sit or down at a distance are the same. Just remember the 3
Ds–distance, distraction, duration–you can only raise the criteria for one at a time. If your dog can sit at 20 feet in the house, try for 2 at the park.
Hope this ramble is helpful.
Mireille says
Here another one who has had to train herself ;-). Spot is by far the most difficult dog we had. He is a Siberian husky with a HUGE prey drive and a tendency to act before thinking. He is somewhat ‘triggerhappy” responding instantly to anything he would like to chase, at the same time forgetting he is on a leash with me attached to it… So every now and then I get dragged into a field or he tumbles into a ditch (tries to jump on too short leash). We have made huge progress – there had been times where I just plopped down in the woods on a path and cried because he would do nothing else but lunge from left to right, no matter what I used (flat collar, harness, no-pull harness, halti) and he would keep that up for HOURS. Did I mention that outside he is quite an exicitable guy? To add one other factor into the mix: he is not well build and suffers from back aches and musculo-skeletal problems with his rear right leg. Possibly a trauma to inner thigh muscles. Probably the trauma is named brother Shadow – sigh…
Anyway, we have regular chiropraxy sessions nowadays and he is doing much better but those accidents are not good for him. So it is a work in progress.
Now for the ‘it depends”. On a walk he will stiffen and sniff, obviously smelling something really interesting and it is hard to get him to move on with me. Now since he is always on leash, I do not grudge him sniffing time. But the danger is, he will get very excited and do something silly like jump into the brambles covering the ditch or het will respond to my “come on” with a full sprint ahead. So I try to read him: can I let him sniff to his heart contents and ask him to walk with me when finished or do I drag him along before something happens either to his or my back. The full sprint ahead we have started to tackle by rewarding the come with a lovely game of “chase the cookies” where I throw small treats on the ground for him to chase and the last one he gets form my hand. Which dissipates some of the chase energy and helps him keep his focus on me. But for the silly actions? We are working on leave it, but hey. nothing is better than cats to scare of pheasants to flush (( I accidentally deleted the short clip I made of Spot irritably pushing my hand away full of yummy treats, his expression clearly saying “move out of my way, can’t you see I have something better to do))
So when Spot stiffens and sniffs, I choose between either let him sniff and ask him to come, or, depending on the terrain, whether I know “who lives there” and the intensity of his response, getting a good grip on the leash and with a stern “UH” or “leave it” take him with me and rewarding any relaxation he shows when the item/point of interest has passed. If het is very Hyper, I sometimes ask him to sit, using a reminder if needed, and then when some of the tension is gone, we walk ahead. And yes, our walks usually are pretty good nowadays and we take longer walks. Although I must admit this morning I almost ended up in the brambles, because for one nano-second I wasn’t focusing on him and he sprinted full tilt into a field scaring pheasants on a 7 mrt flexi leash. Ouch…. I wish I had his responses…
Mireille says
by the way: yes, I have also trained myself to trie and stay calm, be firm but not excited. So much so that when we attended man trailing classes the teacher asked why I wasn’t rewarding Spot more enthousiastically 😉 😉 Ooops….
Lacey says
Yes, do recall to leash immediately, because some children are not good with dogs, even a dog who likes and is good with children.
Diane says
Great blog and comments. The day of no talking reminded me of a few of our agility classes. Being novices, we would scream the commands at our poor dogs – often times distracting them. One time we came to class, and the instructor told us we are to run without any verbal commands. We had to turn our attention to our actions. It was fun and taught us to be more aware of our body language and reactions in different situations. I think the dogs were very grateful!
Steph says
Thank you Lacey, and Margaret. I appreciate your comments. I’ll work on this.
Best,
Steph
Marianne Hovde says
Love the door analogy. I might steal that and use it with my clients 🙂
Also good to be reminded to ask “why” dogs do the things they do. It’s always what makes sense to them in the moment, and it’s never because they are stubborn or defiant.