Wow. I just listened to the first episode of Season Four of Michael Shikashio‘s podcast, The Bitey End of the Dog. He interviews a range of great thinkers related to canine aggression in his podcast, including, this season, Karen London and Mark Beckoff. But the first episode was with me, focusing on trauma in dogs. I don’t usually listen to podcasts I’ve done after they’ve been recorded, but this time I did, and was reminded how Michael’s knowledge, compassion, and insight, make him an exceptional podcast host and canine expert. I think you’ll agree when you listen.
But before you do, a warning: This is no “beach read.” Both Michael and I are both flat out honest about how our own personal traumas have informed our perspective on dog training. Michael, bravely and brilliantly, shares publicly, for the first time, a years-long trauma that he endured with an abusive spouse, and I talk about being sexually assaulted in a fun house–an event not mentioned in The Education of Will, but something I have shared when speaking around the country. Listening to the traumas of others can be triggering, so please listen only when you’re in the right space to do so. I can say, feeling abashed at what seems like an egocentric admission, that I found our conversation riveting. (I keep deleting that last sentence, and then putting it back in. Okay, I’m keeping it in. Eeeeeps.)
We talked about so many things, from how to know if a dog has been traumatized, the importance of compassion to both dogs and dog owners, and the importance of giving traumatized individuals as much agency and autonomy as possible. Both of us believe that some of the aggression we see is based on so many dogs in the U.S. having so little control over their lives, I’ll be curious to hear what you think after you listen.
What I want to focus on specifically today though, is our discussion at the end of the podcast about how experiences with abuse and trauma inform so many of us who work with dogs. Both Michael and I are aware that our pasts have had a significant impact on how we work with dogs. I have always been attracted to fearful animals–I remember loving a horse who many disliked because he was so skittish. I just felt like I “got him.” The horse I didn’t like riding was bold but needed pushing rather than soothing. Hmmm. And Michael’s compassion for aggressive dogs (and their owners) is driven in part, no doubt, by his understanding and empathy for individuals who have been traumatized.
So here’s my question for you: What part of your life experience has informed and affected the way you work with dogs, whether it’s your family dog or the dogs of your clients? Is there a particular type of dog or behavior that you are drawn to? Is there something in your past or experience that you think has had an influence on how you work with and live with your dog?
I think this could be a fascinating conversation for our village. Listen, if you can, to us on The Bitey End of the Dog, and jump into the discussion. Or just add your own experience and we’ll all take it from there.
One last thing I should say; full disclosure and all: Here’s what Michael had to say about me at the beginning of the podcast: “In this episode, I have the distinct honor to chat with one of my all time heroes in dog training, Patricia McConnell. Her work was pivotal in helping me learn more about kinder, gentler methods to dog training, and her knowledge, kindness, and generosity will forever be etched into the betterment of humankind.”
So, I am of course, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT OBJECTIVE ABOUT EVERYTHING I HAVE TO SAY ABOUT MICHAEL. Of course I am. (When I saw this I asked him to give the eulogy at my funeral, with the warning that he’d have to wait awhile.) But, truly, thanks Michael for having me on, for our conversation, and for your bravery talking about your past. You rock, even if you didn’t say all those ridiculously kind things above.
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Here’s an antidote to talking about trauma–Lambs! Please explain to me how they could be cuter. These adorsable things were calling for their momma at John Wentz’s farm, and I’m not sure how anything could look sweeter.
Here’s something else wonderful: My good friend and colleague, Melissa McCue-McGrath, (Considerations for the City Dog, Bewilderbeast podcast),came to visit and help out in the garden last weekend. (Just a short trip from Maine!) She worked like a field hand in the garden, but allowed me to reinforce her by taking her to the best cheese shop in the U.S., Fromagination.
On the flip side, it’s been a million degrees outside and hasn’t rained for two years. Oh wait, maybe not quite that hot or that long. But, still. Gardening consists of watering to try to keep things alive versus weeding, planting, and transplanting. This is the third dry spring we’ve had, but the worst so far in length. In The Before Times, springs were wet and then things got drier June through August. All of our native plants and animals are used to lots of wet days in April and May, so there’s a lot of adjusting to do.
In part because of all our garden’s flowers, we are a haven for a family of hummingbirds. This is “boss female,” who may be tiny, but as you can see by the DO NOT MESS WITH ME sign on her face, is not delicate in any way. The male Ruby-Throated, no doubt her mate, is terrified of her. So is “black belly female,” and who can blame them? But she can’t be everywhere all at once, so all three get to come to the table, a feeder attached to the living room window. They make me so happy.
Here are the flowers out the same window, with the native honeysuckle vine that the hummers adore, in the background.
In other avian news, Robert and Roberta Robin have nested again outside the living room window in a box that Jim built for them last year. There are four babes, and they are starting to flap their wings. I expect they’ll be gone soon. I hope Robert and Roberta will go for a second nest this summer; I can watch them from the couch, where I spend WAY TOO MUCH TIME now, and I consider them good friends. I doubt it’s reciprocal. (But they know me. Last night a visitor sat at my usual place and on the couch and Robert/a stared at them for a full minute. Might as well have said “And who the heck are you?”)
Maggie would like you to know that she is being tortured and desperately needs an intervention. It seems that Tall Two-Leg Female decided she was limping on Friday, and won’t let her play or work sheep. She would like to say that THREE LEGS ARE ALL I NEED! I DON’T CARE IF ONE HURTS! PLEASE SEND HELP. It looks like help will soon arrive, her limp has greatly improved, so maybe only a few more days?
Skip, on the other hand, is raring to go. I got down on the floor to snap a photo and he slid his way over to me and put his head on my knee. Don’t let that mellow face fool you. As soon as I get out the whistle he’ll be standing on his back legs at the door.
Which is exactly what I should do now–wrap this up and go move the sheep around. We’re trying to protect the pastures as best we can, but it’s rough with no rain in so long. And Skip is desperate to work, so it’s time. I hope your weather has been kinder, and that you find the time to listen to Michael’s podcast. It’s something else. Please join the conversation about how your past–no matter what it includes–has informed how you work with, and relate to, your dog.
Bye for now, and a reminder that there’s always something to rejoice,
Trisha
Scott Fischer says
I have long been drawn to dogs that display fear-based aggression. Growing up with an abusive father (with whom I thankfully worked through most, if not all of my/our issues before he died) I learned not to trust people or allow them to get close to me. I tended to bristle with hostility when they got too close which kept people at arms length.
Many years ago during a session with my therapist, it dawned upon me. “You know why I’m so good working with fear-aggressive dogs? It’s because I’m a fear-aggressive dog!” My default position upon meeting new people was along the lines of, “you’re an a*****e, prove me wrong.” Yet I have always had boundless compassion and patience with dogs. I get them and they get me.
I like to believe that I’ve come a long way but I’m still a work in progress.
The longer I’ve worked with dogs (since 2002 professionally) the more I’ve learned that allowing them to have a choice in what they do and how they do it is an essential part of earning their trust. Hand-in-hand with that discovery is the realization that using force and compulsion is not only unnecessary, it’s counter-productive. Thanks for being one of my teachers through your books and blog Trisha!
Sally says
Thank you! My childhood included quite severe abuse that is still affecting me at 72. I have always been drawn toward “difficult” creatures—or they’ve been drawn to me—much to the dismay of the less damaged folks around me. ( I say less damaged because who among us is completely whole?) Everything in me is saying that what you explain is true.
Not only have you explained this to me, you’ve given me the grace of seeing that one of the things I like best about myself is the direct result of years of pain and shame. Doesn’t make the abuse okay, but does allow me to see that the glue that holds me together is not ugly, flaking chemicals. It is the gold that is used in Japanese culture to mend broken things into something even more beautiful.
Such a gift you’ve given to me!
Charlotte Kasner says
I had the original wire monkey mother and a sick father. I’ve been fending for myself since I was 17. It’s tough.
I have also been influenced by P+ dog training – humans and animals. I put off training as a behaviourist because my then dog trainer made me feel stupid and inadequate. It took me years to realise that I wasn’t getting answers to questions because she couldn’t answer them.
That has a huge effect on me being determined that the humans won’t be treated like that by me as well as their animals.
Both have affected me by undermining my confidence and making it much slower and harder for me to get to where I am today. Understanding – and proving, against the odds – that I can have a beneficial effect on the lives of people and their animals has at last, six decades in, given me some self-respect and trust in my own abilities.
Let us hope that we will finally rid ourselves of “teachers” who think that yelling and belittling are ways of achieving success in learning.
P. J. Grath says
As a shy child who was traumatized by a grade school teacher, publicly humiliated at length in the classroom, where one girl defended me and everyone else was given a chance by the teacher to say why they didn’t like me, I was drawn to a shelter dog who sat quietly in the back of her cell. She wasn’t cowering, but she was the only dog in the place not jumping and barking for attention. The second time I visited, she came to the front of her cell, and the third time she stood up with front paws on the barrier. We recognized each other. That dog turned out to have many fears, and she had no idea of how to play, but she learned, and she traveled with us from Wawa, Ontario, to the Florida Everglades and lived to the age of 17. Pure mutt, she was a dog of my heart. I would say “the” dog, but there have been others since then.
Heidrun says
This question hit a nerve.
I had to grow up without a dog but with a distinctive picture about how they should behave: well-mannered, well-behaved, obedient, unobtrusive. Just like we were supposed to be as children. Which we weren’t (or at least I wasn’t).
So the first steps with my first dog were similar to what I knew as “education”. I wasn’t very good at being strict but tried my best because a dog has to be like this and that and the dog must never/always … etc. And it made me (and probably my dog, too) really unhappy.
This changed completely when I discovered clicker training even though I found it difficult to realise the idea behind it at first: Positive reinforcement for a misbehaving dog? How is that supposed to work? But when the penny had dropped a whole new world opened up for me (and fortuately for my dog and all her successors). Training with focus on what actually IS good and working well now felt lighthearted and became fun. And on top of that even things that still didn’t go so well improved at the same time all by themselves.
Then I got a dog who was the most obedient being I ever met. Her previous owners had obviously worked hard to create a dog that would even ask to breathe if possible. All I had to do was asking her and she would do anything for me. But she never did anything by herself. This changed when I discovered her talent for mantrailing and nosework. She became confident to a point where she was sure only she could do the right thing and I was useless for the job (which was true). I loved how her whole body language changed after finding a „lost“ person or indicating a find, she seemed to become a totally different dog. And I literally cried tears of joy when later she stole food from the kitchen for the first time: she finally had become a free spirit.
My next dog already had the name “free spirit” in the breed description (why I chose this particular breed). He was my first puppy and all I wanted was to preserve his independence and promote his talents. Because of him being his own personality (and not the easiest one could wish for) I thought about my own upbringing for the first time when we had our first disagreement (heeling strangers to make them go away is not allowed). I was so close to falling back into old patterns again… Which I admittedly did one time or another but by now I am able to see me doing it and stop.
He was so different from the easy going shepherd he grew up with: I had to encourage her and build her up so that she could develop her own personality – him I had to cautiously steer into the paths where he could not cause trouble. Luckily he also loves nosework (my by now and still favourite thing to do) and we started training when he was about a year old. Now at 10 years old, he is well on his way to becoming a little more sensible and calm and he’s a pro when it comes to finding/detecting anything I ask him to. Thanks to him I found out that discovering and promoting talent in a dog while paying respect to his or her personality is the most beautiful and satisfying thing.
And I suppose this is what I would have wished for as a child: to be accepted for who I am and to be encouraged in things I like to do. To be seen and to be respected for achievements and to be allowed to develop the personality within myself instead of being shaped from the outside.
So this is what I try to teach other people with their dogs.
For now I’ll be off with the dogs. And instead of doing the dishes afterwards I’m looking forward to listening to this podcast episode of yours <3
Nada Chebib says
Bitey End of the Dog is one of my all-time favourite podcasts. I have it downloaded and cannot wait to listen to the conversation between you and Michael. I will have my tissues ready.
Trisha says
Thank you Heidrun for sharing this story. It makes my heart all big and soft.
Trisha says
Oh P.J., what a heart breaking story. What a profoundly damaged and damaging teacher. What a lucky dog to find you!
Trisha says
Charlotte, thank you so much for bravely sharing your story. It’s heartbreaking to me how often “teaching” was simply being abusive, as if fear and pain are/were the only way to teach someone something. What a gift, though, that your suffering has given the animals you work with. Good on you, friend.
Trisha says
Sally, I love the gold that mends things in Japanese culture. How brilliantly beautiful. Thank you for this gift to all of us!
Trisha says
Scott, thank you for bravely telling us your story, good on you. And, we are all works in progress, right? I am so not always exactly the person I want to be, but… I’m trying. All we can do, isn’t it?
Jackie says
Oh yes.
I’ve had a serious psychiatric condition since I was 18 (I’m now 60). I think that experience gave me the patience and tenacity to survive living with our first rescue dog. He needed someone to be an advocate for him, to make a safe space for him, to fight for specialist treatment. I could see the intelligence in his dark, troubled eyes and although I didn’t always like him, I loved him with all my heart. He lived out his natural life with us, and although I’m sure we weren’t the ‘perfect’ owners for him – far too inexperienced – I still think he was lucky to find us.
A vet behaviourist thought that as well as being unsocialised and traumatised and inherently genetically nervous, he was also probably brain damaged. He developed focal epilepsy in later life. So a properly badly wired brain, like mine!
It hasn’t made me want to rush out and get another dog with his kind of problems though. The latest one came to us with severe SA which was a breeze in comparison.
LisaW says
I grew up in a middle-class home that was loving in that strict, children-should-be-seen-but-not-heard kind of way and appearances were everything. There was corporal punishment, and illogical (to me) repercussions, and not much made sense to me in terms of expectations and reactions. By today’s norms, it was a violent upbringing, and I suppose back then, it was called discipline although harsh. I was curious, and questioning, and almost oblivious to the causes and effects swirling around me. Looking back, it was a traumatic, at times brutal upbringing, and it was how my parents thought to raise four kids.
My childhood experiences have affected my life in so many ways and one of them is my ongoing evolution of living with dogs—our interactions, expectations, and limits. Thinking about your prompts has made me realize that I am often drawn to the dogs I am because I think of the injustice and sadness of their lives so far (even if I don’t know all the details) and what could be possible (not necessarily because I am able to handle their issues or can imagine what could go wrong or . . . ). I remain somewhat oblivious to the obvious and yet still resolute in my belief that so much is possible. Hmmm.
I am certainly drawn to the “tricky” dogs. The ones that make you work for the simplest interactions or make you turn your brain inside out to figure out how to reach them and start from where they are or at least agree to a place to start—they don’t give you a road map maybe just a few breadcrumbs scattered here and there. Where each teeny, tiny, baby step forward is reward unto itself. Grace and Olive are emblematic of those “tricky” dogs.
A few years ago, I was visiting the community where my mom lives, and a resident had just gotten a “rescue” dog. I took one look at that dog and simultaneously felt totally drawn in and full of dread. I knew that the elderly person had neither the stamina nor resources to deal with such a dog (and sadly, a few months later, she gave the dog away), but boy was I smitten. (Those feelings also set off several alarms in my head, which is progress :-/)
A few weeks ago I said out loud that if we ever get another dog, perhaps they will be one of those happy, calm, and sharp but not-too-pointed dogs. Ha.
Trisha says
What a beautiful story Jackie, thanks for sharing it.
Trisha says
LisaW: Thanks for sharing your story, I’m sure many can relate to it. And, regarding your last comment, after Willie died I specifically set out to find a stable, loves-everyone dog like Skip. I did a terrible job, one might argue, of evaluating him when we flew to the east coast to meet him. I took one look at his face as he ran up to greet Jim, having heard from his owner “He’s the happiest dog I’ve ever had,” and the decision was made. Helps to have spent decades evaluating dogs in my office no doubt, but those two pieces of information were all I needed, and got me exactly the dog I wanted, and needed, at the time. Skip came with a serious heart condition and some big built-in flaws working sheep, but Jim and I have never regretted our decision. We, I really, needed a dog like him at this point in life, and it’s a match made in heaven.
Terrie says
As someone who was badly bullied as a kid (stuff that today would probably be considered a crime), I find myself drawn to the shy and shut down dogs. Lots of former puppy mill breeder stock. I get finding the world a scary place and having a hard time trusting. I often joke they’re super easy dogs. “Set them up some place secure and ignore them until they’re ready.” But I’ve talked to enough people to know that not everyone has the patience to give them the time and space they need to feel secure. We love dogs in part because they love us back, so it takes a certain amount of something to love a dog who wants nothing to do with you and pees under your couch because he’s too scared to come out.
Jenny says
I love that thought. I suffer from many different psychological conditions since I’ve been a child due to childhood trauma.
I always felt so much empathy for dogs nobody else wanted. Too aggressive, too reactive, too fearful. That’s always been the kind of dog me and my husband adopted.
My current service dog was one of those shy fearful puppies, when I got her from a rescue. Never aggressive but so frightened of the world and other beings. We always had a very special bond and together we managed to overcome so many of her fears.
When my conditions got way worse a few years ago our roles switched around – now she is helping ME to deal with my fears. She is a wonderful, well trained service dog who loves her job so much but she will never be as confident as most service dogs, who are bred and raised for that purpose.
Because my problems got much worse in the past few years I finally decided to do something I never did before and I adopted a well bred and socialised puppy from a breeder in april to become my new service dog in training (as my girl is getting older and will need help at some point). To that day I always went with the rescues who had a miserable life before. He has never experienced anything bad in his life and it’s crazy different with him. I feel at peace when he is with me, he projects so much calmness and safety. It’s just so easy with him. He is just what I need at the moment – but that won’t change the love and compassion I have for dogs who have suffered trauma and mistreatment before and there will always be a place in my heart and my home for a dog like that.
Jenny says
Also, another interesting thought. My husband always had the closest, strongest relationship to our most reactive dogs. That might very well be the cast because they are just like him.
Gayla says
“forever etched into the betterment of humankind”
What I’ve always felt, but could never say as eloquently…
Pat says
I took lots of psychology classes when I was in college, and when I switched to positive and started learning about how we all learn, I was able to tap into my college learning and then expand on it.
I find myself being drawn to shy/traumatized dogs…
I’m getting a puppy in a month, and it’s my goal to give him a great big, comfortable world…
Amanda says
When my brother finally convinced my family to get a dog, we got a retriever/lab mix puppy (“he’ll be a great family dog!”), and it was a nightmare from day one. Too much energy for a busy family who didn’t know what we were getting into.
Around the time he turned 2, something switched in him. He had always been a little quick to snarl, but one day he bit my mom and started stalking us. It was scary.
My parents called the vet, who diagnosed him with canine rage syndrome. They said it was either a long & expensive road to behavioral recovery or the end of the road. He went over the rainbow bridge the next morning. (the same vet had shown us some “training” techniques that I now know are solidly in the realm of dominance theory, and I suspect played a role in that dog’s aggression)
I started learning about dog behavior and volunteering at the humane society, where they had a little training program on positive reinforcement. But that experience with my first dog absolutely informs the way I see and interact with dogs, and gives me great tools and compassion for my own dog’s reactivity.
lak says
My childhood home was violent. I saw and experienced it for many of my formative years. I have my 2nd rescue dog who is so fearful of everything even the shelter she was in so much so she refused to eat. I fostered her then adopted her and she is a beautiful 70# AmStaff who is still fearful but now knows how to play and walk and eat from a bowl! Her fear broke my heart, but I allowed her to initiate all activities with me at her own pace, except feeding, I hand fed her cooked human food to entice her to eat! She is no longer an emaciated overbred traumatized dog, she is now a healthy cancer surviving loving dog to me who likes nothing more to spend time in my company and her wonderful home! She remains skeptical of men to this day, I respect that.
Kamila says
I grew up with mentally ill father in a communist country. In 70s there wasn’t any real treatment for his condition except electric shock therapy after my father’s each suicide attempt and my mum was advised him to give up and divorce him. My mum’s own father died from cancer when she was only 7 years old, I think watching someone die when you are so little changes you. My mum didn’t give up on my dad and put up with a lot until he died in a car crash (drink driving) when he was 33 years old. I was 7.
My parents loved animals, reading and nature. I fondly remember dad taking us regularly to small animals shows and us always winning a Guinea pig or two. I grew up surrounded by animals and when I was 12 I got my first dog. Boy, I loved that dog, she was my best friend.
When I was 21 I moved to uk and married someone who was functioning alcoholic. When I divorced I got an unwanted farm kitten, who today is 18 years old. She’s the smartest cat I ever met, she moved with me to New York 5 years ago, as I couldn’t give her up. It cost my husband $1000 to ship her here. She’s an outdoor cat, because I believe in trying to provide home for animals with as much freedom and as close to nature as I can. Also it’s very common in Europe to have outdoor cats, especially on farms.
When I moved to New York we got our first dog, standard poodle Sam. His owner was diagnosed with incurable cancer and waited for me to move to USA to give Sam to us through a shelter, as my husband is a quadriplegic, who cannot look after a dog. Sam was the dog everyone dreams about having. Solid nerves, very friendly, smart as a whip, gentle, kind etc. He gave the best hugs and would patiently sit there letting you hug him for minutes. Unfortunately we lost him within 8 months to cancer. I never thought of having a poodle, it was my husbands idea, but now there needs to be at least one standard poodle in the house lol.
After Sam we got another standard poodle Monty. We adopted him when he was under socialized fearful 8 months old, who became reactive and sometimes bitey. With us he’s the most loving dog, but every stranger is a danger. Before Monty I never really understood how inhumane and violent some dog training is allowed to be in USA and how restrictive dogs’ life became in modern world. For example in uk any time of the day I can take dog off leash to a park. In New York, 7am to 9am, only certain parks. Otherwise 6 ft leash.
After a terrible experience with an award winning “Cesar Milan”trainer, which exacerbated Monty’s issues, I started looking for answers. The more I read, the other end of the leash was my first book, so thank you from bottom of my heart, the more I realized that there are people and trainers around who truly understand dogs and their needs. As a child I loved biology and science, so finding dog training based on that was like “coming home”. It was only thanks to Monty I really started to understand dogs, their language, their behavior etc. Sam was so easy, there was no need to learn anything as Sam was like a wise old man.
I’m attracted to dogs that need more help than the well adjusted ones, the fearful ones, the bitey ones etc. Those that find the world scary and overwhelming, no matter how it manifests in current world. I suppose like my mum I don’t give up. My dream is one day to attend The academy for dog trainers and have my own gated 10 acres sanctuary with dogs like Monty. I want to give them as much freedom as I can, allow them to be dogs. You know, dogs that can bark, run, play, jump, growl, play bite etc. I will need at least one Sam in my pack to make the rest of Montys easier though.
I find something profoundly beautiful in Montys of this world though. By displaying their “unwanted by humans” behavior, they are showing you what they need. And we as humans should listen.
Carole says
Both my sister and I were adopted, though our parents never told us. We began reseaching our (separate) birth famlies after both of our parents passed away. The information I received showed that I was in the orphanage until I was nine months old. My wise oldest son says this lack of one on one care so early in my life explains my bone deep need to take in every stray dog, cat, and a few kids that come to my attention. I have always been drawn to the lost and needy… both kids and dogs. At one point, my house was full to bursting with my four biological children, a rotating group of four or five teenage boys whose family issues had made them virtually homeless, and a whopping thirteen dogs. (My dad, who was a child psychologist, used to say that all kids should grow up with the unconditional love of a dog. Once when he visited us, he looked around at the dogs and opined that maybe I had taken that advice just a LITTLE too far.)
I have been training dogs (and their people) for nearly half a century, and I have always been drawn to the broken, the aggressive, and the very needy ones.
There is immense satisfaction in learning to not only understand what these dogs need, but in patiently helping them to become happy thriving creatures. For some dogs, progress is seen in the smallest achievments. One of my current ‘foster failures’ was born feral. Jax came to me when he was approximately three months old. He was completely un-socialized and terrified of every human, though particularly men. The first time he approached my sons and let them touch him, it was a milestone the whole family celebrated.
Trisha says
I just wanted to thank everyone so far who has written in. Your comments are fascinating, heartfelt, and often brave. I appreciate every one, even if I can’t comment on each of them–my energy budget is a tad strained this week. Be assured I read, and reread if truth be known, every single one, and appreciate them with all my heart
Amy S. says
I completely relate to Lisa W’s early life experience as my early life was very similar – children should be seen and not heard. As the oldest of two by 7 years I became the “built in babysitter” and was thrust into a role of sometimes parenting my younger sister. I was never given any “training” on what I was supposed to do and when I did something “wrong”, in the eyes of my parents, I heard the dreadful “You should know better!” But I always wondered HOW I was supposed to know better?? I couldn’t ask that question because “children should be seen and not heard”.
This lack of real training/teaching of what was truly expected of me continued into my professional career as an engineer. My first job out of college my boss told me during my interview I would go through about 6 weeks of training before he would have me interact with customers. My first day of work he sat with me for about 4 hours of training. My second day of work he handed me a request from a customer and said “Take care of this”, I thought “Wow, that was the fastest 6 weeks of my life!” 😳 Of course I got yelled at when I did anything wrong or not how my boss would have done it. I left that job after about two years (of misery!) and went on to other engineering jobs where the same pattern continued – high expectations of what I SHOULD do with little to no training or explanation of what to do. It got to a point that when I was informed I was doing something wrong I would fire back with “And you were going to tell me this when???”.
I was looking for a career change at the same time we were looking for our next dog. I started learning about positive reinforcement dog training and it hit me that was what I have been looking for all my life – teaching what TO DO instead of punishing for what NOT to do. So, I became a dog trainer.
In the beginning we took almost every case just to a) make money, b) gain some experience, and c) earn some referrals. Quickly we started to realize every case had an “Oh by the way” . . . “My dog is terrible waking on leash” only to find out at the first visit the dog is super fearful of everything outside and becomes super aggressive. After a few cases like that I started to question if I had made the right choice to become a trainer. My mentor and head trainer went on to get her CDBC and took on more aggression cases. I would help her work those cases but was always so frustrated about having to fix a problem. My engineering brain kicked in and made me think about how to PREVENT these problems from happening in the first place.
I had an opportunity to start doing more work with young puppies and then it finally clicked for me – start them off on the right paw to help avoid the aggressive behaviors later! It was around that same time I heard a quote from Fredrick Douglas – “It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men”. I changed the word children to puppies and men to dogs and that was it! I needed to do more work helping clients with young puppies to help them avoid needing the help of my mentor later! Not that I was trying to put her out of business because sadly, there are still so many aggression cases out there. I just framed it as pay me now to get your puppy on the right path so that you don’t have to pay her more later to try to fix a problem.
As I was doing this work with young puppies for a few years I was driving home one night from group class when I saw another quote that hit me. It was on a marquee in front of a Montessori school and said “Teach by teaching, not by correcting”!! That sums it up so well but sadly we as a society still have a long way to go in realizing that for our dogs and people!
Kat says
I grew up in a very small town where the one and often only thing that everyone knew about me is that I’m smart. Being defined by a single characteristic was, in retrospect, incredibly limiting. So I tend to be drawn to the smart dogs and want to learn what else they are. And I want to learn how they want to use their intelligence. They all have different kinds of smarts and different ways of applying it. I love figuring out who they are as a whole dog.
Trisha says
Kat, fascinating about your being labeled as “the smart one.” I wonder how common that is, I’m guessing very, and not to anyone’s advantage. My sisters and I were labeled very narrowly by our parents, Wendy was the sensitive one, Liza the smart one, me the pretty one. Which was crazy, cuz Liza looked like Elizabeth Taylor, Wendy was killer smart AND beautiful. I wasn’t exactly stupid in school either, got great grades, but took me a few decades to shake off being a ‘dumb blond.’ And we all see dogs labeled all the time, especially because of their breed. And yes, yes, different kinds of smarts indeed, true for everyone, yes? Thanks for sharing this, so interesting.
Trisha says
Amy S: What a wonderful (though sad) story you have shared with us. I’m reminded of a local story I just read about a sports coach whose only method of coaching waas to yell at the students. High school students. Babies really. It’s such a tragedy that using PR is considered “new and different,” and that children/dogs/people/you name it are expected to read people’s minds, know what to do and how to do it without any training. The only silver lining in your story is that your past has clearly made you such a great trainer. Keep up the good work, girl, it’s vital stuff you’re doing.
Trisha says
Carole: What an amazing story, and what amazing and beautiful and generous work you are doing with both children and dogs. The world is a better place for you being in it. Thank you for sharing this, and thank you for what you do.
Trisha says
Kamila: Thank you for honoring us with your story. Wow. You, like many others who have commented, are an inspiration. Turning such pain and struggle into something so wonderful is not an easy thing to do, and I honor you for it. Wow.
Trisha says
lak: It’s heartbreaking to think about what happened to you as a child, but I am grateful for your sharing it with us. The fearful dogs of the world often depend on people like you, full of empathy and understanding. Sloppy kisses to your lucky, lucky AmStaff.
Trisha says
Amanda, thanks for sharing this sad story, we all wish it wasn’t so common, don’t we? But yay for you for turning it around into someone who empathizes and understands the value of Positive Reinforcement. Kudos!
Trisha says
Good luck with the puppy, Pat. It’ll be a lucky one to have you!
Ramona Elder says
I grew up as an empathetic soul and had a love for all animals, my favorites being horses and dogs. As an adult, I worked in veterinary clinics, and also ventured into dog training as an instructor (when the owner of the training school saw my enthusiasm of helping others with their dogs). I then, stumbled into an opportunity to train assistance dogs. It was at that point, as I worked with dogs providing service to their paired partners with disabilities that my empathy for others really began to blossom into helping others in ways I never imagined. I realized when working with clients who faced the many challenges of physical disabilities, and even invisible disabilities (such as diabetes or seizures), that helping them learn how to work with their service dogs to create a more independent, safer life, also opened my eyes (and my heart) to an even greater good. Because the training with a client and their new service dog would in some times take several months, I sometimes formed life long friendships. I learned of not only their difficulties they face in daily life, we often take for granted, but also of unforeseen things. Like the loneliness so many are afflicted with, feeling ignored or invisible in society, and dealing with frustrations with others who at times were rude, down-right disrespectful, and sometimes even abusive. All things as an introvert, empath, I had personally run into throughout my own life. I’ve seen how in the past, the clients I was working with, were slowly shut out from society over time, creating greater loneliness and feelings of abandonment. These were additional challenges that were unexpected accompaniments to their limitations due to a disability.
It became another opportunity for me, as their trainer, to guide them, help them utilize their training and companionship with their dogs. It also helped integrate themselves into society with tools of knowledge, the ability to educate the public about assistance dogs, become involved, feel accepted and give them respect and even, at times, new founded friendships. It was a two-fold opportunity, as I gained much from it as well and filled my own feelings of worth, acceptance and respect. It was my involvement in training dogs, that helped develop my own personal skills, harness my empathetic nature and ability to give back more than I ever expected. I always quoted that what I loved most about dog training was that “I loved helping people through their dogs” providing those dogs with better manners & skills which in turn would provide them with a lifelong, loving home. I am satisfied knowing that I also provided their person with gifts that have enriched their lives also (and as another bonus, it has given as just as much back to myself).
Kat says
Sage @sagescrittore posted the following tweet that is being shared around Facebook. It resonates so much with all the comments here on the blog. “last night Ursula K. LeGuin visted my dreams and I said to her “Queerness is a long thread of hurt” and she answered “Now what will you mend with that thread?” and it rocked me so hard I woke up crying” This blog post and the comments have shown how often people take their long thread of hurt from whatever source and use it to mend.
Trisha says
Gorgeous quote Kat, thanks for sharing.
Nancy Florsheim says
I listened to your podcast with Michael Shikashio and have been thinking about, and gaining insights from it, for some time.
I grew up with an emotionally abusive mother and a father who was kind but did nothing to intervene. As a pre teen, I saved up to buy my own German shepherd puppy and raised and trained her with my father’s help. That led to a feeling of comfort and sharing that was new to me.
Now in my eighties, I have always been drawn to dogs that can think for themselves shepherds, border collies, rat terriers).Since listening to your podcasts with Larry Meuller, reading your books, and, by great good fortune, coming to meet you at the farm with Sam, our first border collie,I have felt grounded in my relationships with a series of dogs. I don’t know whether you remember our visit, probably 35 years ago, with the eight year old border collie we found on the street whose owners didn’t want him back…It was so wonderful of you to let us come.
Two years ago we adopted a seven year old rat terrier mix from Milwaukee animal control. Our 17 year old Emma was no longer with us, and I missed the intelligence, empathy , and mischief that comes with the breed.
This guy barks aggressively when anyone comes into the house. He was a stray, and we think he was beaten in his former life. My personal experiences have helped me appreciate that some fears can’t be overcome even with abundant shreds of turkey. I now take him, with treats or a stuffed kong, to a back room. He seems okay with the program, and will settle down enough to join us if someone stays a long time.
I can’t thank you enough for how you have helped me understand and appreciate the uniqueness of every dog and situation.
Kenna says
I loved listening to this podcast episode; I have many of Michael’s episodes saved in my library to listen to when I have time. I was really excited for this one as I’ve re-read The Education of Will several times over (and passed it onto my mom to read as well).
It has always resonated with me as I have a dog who had behavioral/aggression issues when I got him at 8 weeks of age, though likely because I’m no professional, his prognosis was very different. It was shocking to see a puppy with those problems, and isolating as whenever I reached out for help I was told that I must be misinterpreting normal puppy play/nervousness as no puppy could behave as I described. It wasn’t until he was a year old that a professional agreed to work with me/him and it’s been a long road of figuring things out on our own and employing professionals (some good, some terrible).
I’m lucky in that I don’t think I’ve had any personal trauma that I can note, though maybe through having my dog or through other things I can’t quite pinpoint, I know that I have a high level of anxiety (always have I think) and have become very hypervigilant. As for my dog, his trauma was well noted before I brought him home.
Nine years later though, and he’s improved but he’ll never really be a “success story”. But maybe just being here is success enough. He’s a good dog who tries hard but was ultimately failed long before he was born. Reading your book, though, was so eye opening and heartfelt – for the first time I realized that maybe I wasn’t crazy, that something was wrong, and that it wasn’t all my fault. Thank you for that gift.
Trisha says
Kenna: His life with you IS a success, if not a triumph. Think of all the things that could have happened to him if you didn’t have him? Kudos.