Puppy Pico’s 1st Week Home!

https://youtu.be/iA4PECMWs6A

Priorities

My puppy doesn’t know “sit” or his name yet, but…

Tiny Teeter: https://youtu.be/Luxj0omgFWg

Pint-sized Percher: https://youtu.be/qn0KPPZgPY8

Sport/trick dog trainers have different priorities! 

You know you have a puppy when...

 ...you're standing outside in your bathrobe at 7 am waiting for a tiny puppy to "go potty" so that you can get back inside where it's warm. Said puppy is more interested in wandering around, sniffing, picking up leaves, stopping and scratching his collar, etc. But patience is a virtue, and victory is (finally) mine!

I can't help but think, "Here I am again, starting over with a new pup.” It's wonderful and terrifying and exhausting all at once. My hair is not washed. My home is strewn with toys and other puppy-related detritus. The other dogs are adjusting. My socks probably don't match. And I wouldn't trade it for the world. 

I'm going to continue blogging about my daily efforts at "Raising Pico," but for now, please welcome the newest member of the Sidekick family!

Pico de Gallo, approximately 13 weeks old, Chihuahua (mix?), arrived home Friday 1/22/2021, adopted from local rescue Saving Great Animals. 

Four Ideas...

I've got a busy brain. Like, really busy. I am constantly seeking the most effective ways to help my clients train their pups and develop a great relationship and sense of teamwork. I read. I talk to other trainers. I try stuff out in my classes. I take webinars, online courses and attend seminars and workshops. I love that dog training is in a constant state of evolution. Dogs are even on the radar in the scientific community right now and it's freaking awesome. 

I have ideas that pop up continually yet I never quite put them out there. I don't name them. Claim them. Promote them as my own. So, here goes nothin'! These are four ideas of mine that I think are pretty awesome and I'm claiming them as work product. I hope trainers and students will use the heck out of them, and maybe remember that they're "Amanda Boyd" terms. One can dream...

#1: The marker word (to be used as an alternative to the clicker) should not be "yes." It should be "click!" I mean, duh! I don't know about other trainers, but I find it darn near impossible to get people to consistently use "yes" and understand the equivalence to the clicker. I've been beating my head against the wall for years on this one. I now hereby declare my verbal marker word for students to be "click!" It's consistent, easy and makes sense in a very obvious way. BOOM!

#2: The word for coming when called should not be "come." Or "here." Or whatever. It should be "treat." I mean, what the heck is a recall word? Well, it's a word that you say that causes your dog to stop in his tracks, turn and run to you as quickly as s/he can (hopefully in exchange for something good from the human). Guess what, people already have that word and it's "TREAT!" So, why not build on that? It's been conditioned. It's most likely 80% or more reliable. In my experience, very few students actually practice and effectively condition and protect "come" or "here" as recall words. How about "treat" for recall (and ya better give 'em that treat!) and "touch" (nose to hand target) for an emergency recall? Done, and hereby declared and stamped with a big ol' "AB was here." 

#3: The word for dropping something should not be "drop" or "give." It should be "out." Why? Because I tend to say "ow!" when my dogs grab on to me and it hurts. Not the high pitch puppy yelp that gets them all wound up, but just a short, low pitch and offended "ow!" So, they learn to let go when they hear that noise. Then it's easy peasy to transfer it to dropping an object without having to teach a new word that means something they already know. 

#4) Okay, we're moving away from words now and into other territory: mat training! This might not be unique to me, but I swear I haven't borrowed it from anyone intentionally. I've never seen it done and I just thought it up about a week ago. Most classes include some sort of mat training. Many of us introduce shaping to help with this. Trainers love shaping, but we all know how hard it is for students. They almost always revert to a lure. Which is fine: give them the option to shape, but don't be surprised if luring takes over. Often we suggest the students lure and cue a down on the mat quicklyl a few times, then step back and see if shaping works. But if we want the dog to quickly go to the mat without luring we can use...wait for it...opposition reflex! Bait the darn mat (yes, it's a prompt), hold the dog's collar (or put your palm on their chest), then release to race to the mat and eat. Basically a restrained recall using a mat as the target instead of the handler. Repeat 3 to 5 times, then go back to shaping and see what happens. 

I gave it a try with this pup for her first mat session. 

https://youtu.be/CI3zolIs_8g

Okay, so not perfect but it has potential! I didn't notice that pesky little crumb of freeze dried liver working against me. Video is such a valuable tool! But I at least got a couple of reps and, lo and behold, I even snuck in my new "click!" verbal marker.

What say y'all? Are you pickin' up what I'm throwin' down? Anyone else already doing this stuff? I'd love to hear your comments!

Sidekick. Train happy!

Why Punishment is Easier than Positive Reinforcement

 I was an awesome dog mom yesterday. We started the day with an off-leash romp in an open field. Then we headed to training class where most dogs got some working time with me. When we got home, it was food puzzle (and calming tablet) time and we all had a nice nap before waking in the late afternoon. 

That's when all hell broke loose.

Did I mention that I'm currently living with six dogs? Yup, six in a very modest dwelling. (Five of my own and a board-and-train puppy.) It's quite the menagerie!

Upon waking from my nap, and still trying to kick a migraine that started over 24 hours ago, I had the silly notion that I would lie comfortably on my couch and catch up on my shows, namely "How to Get Away with Murder" and "Goliath." 

The dogs had another plan. Their plan was to drive me batsh*t crazy by refusing to settle. Like any typical homo sapien, I started scolding. "Stop it!" "Give me that!" "Quiet!!" "Knock it Off!" “ARGGGGGG!!” (And so on...)

In terms of efficacy, this strategy sucked. However, in terms of ease for me and satisfaction in "doing something" about the problem, it was highly reinforcing. 

You see, I always have my voice. I can always scold. I can always grab and push and restrain. Perhaps most importantly, I can do these things from the comfort of my couch. On a scale of easy peasy to damn near impossible, this is about a two on the effort scale. 

As Melissa Holbrook Pierson writes in her beautiful exploratory memoir, "The Secret History of Kindness: Learning from How Dogs Learn,"

"Punishing a dog - which frequently comes from being emotionally out of control*, as any dog owner necessarily is before** learning those scientific rules of teaching that insert a cool intellectual distance between behavior and cause - is a burdensome secret. First, it feels good, with its release of frustration and fear. Just as quickly it feels terrible. Someone was hurt or confused at the expense of an outburst that served no purpose. I have known that shame." 

* Such as suffering from a debilitating headache. 

**Or,  in my case, after. 

As the dogs continued to spiral like toddlers on Red Bull, my rational brain kicked in and I asked myself (as I often do), “What would I tell a client in this situation?" Well, duh - what DO you want the dog(s) to do?!

Oh, sweet redemption...

...victory is mine! 
But guess what: this is not easy. Not nearly as easy as using a louder than usual voice from the sanctity of my couch. This requires preparation. Observation. Participation. It's more like an eight on that pesky effort scale.

Hence, treat jars stashed throughout my house, at the ready when any desired canine behavior occurs. 

Treat stash, hallway.

Treat stash, bedroom. 

Need another example? How about jumping up on counters and/or tables in search of food and other treasures, often referrred to as "counter surfing."

Here I am doing what I'm supposed to do about counter surfing: reinforcing four on the floor during my food prep. 

As the video shows, here’s the thing (or shall I say a thing) about positive reinforcement: one must encourage, notice and reward the often passive and less obvious presence of desired behaviors. 
(Punishment, on the other hand, involves punishing the active presence of unwanted behaviors, which is entirely more satisfying and tangible.)

Let’s face it, it doesn’t always feel like training when we’re reinforcing “non-behaviors” like being quiet, not jumping, not pulling on leash, chewing a dog bone, etc. 

And then we have this fact working against us: our all-too-human brains are pre-programmed to notice and remember "bad" before "good." 

(Want proof? Google it.) 

Yet these non-aggravating behaviors are the very essence of “being good” and if we want to see more of them, we’ve got to learn to catch our dogs in the act of doing it right! 

So yup, you read it correctly: the "positive" trainer is telling you it's often more intuitive to resort to punishment. It’s also usually more convenient. And even more satisfying at times. 
But you won’t hear me say it’s more effective or kind or that it builds trust and a strong bond between you and your dog. And don’t those things matter most of all?!

With a moderate bit of effort, you can become a more effective trainer and a kinder, more predictable dog guardian with a dog who knows what is expected and is happy to put his best paw forward.

You got this! If I can do it with six dogs, think what you could accomplish with one (or another reasonable number)! 
Sidekick. Train happy. 
P.S. For the flip side, negative punishment (preventing the reinforcement of unwanted behavior), see Denise Fenzi’s recent blog, "No You Cannot Simply Ignore Bad Behavior."
P.P.S. I was able to complete one episode of “HTGAWM” in under two hours. #Winning 

Foggy Doggy, My Truest Bluest Boy

 

Photo credit: Bailey & Banjo. 

This blog may end up in the "save it for therapy" category, but my heart is taking a beating today and I am compelled to write about it. You may want to have a tissue handy.

My dog Molly died nine years ago today. My very first dog, my best friend (and often solo companion) for over 13 years and the inspiration for my business and my life as I now know it, filled with dogs. Her death absolutely flattened me. Decimated me. Rendered me dysfunctional for the better part of a year. I lay in my bed and sobbed for at least two hours a day, every day. Sometimes twice a day. I burst into tears when the checker at the grocery store asked, "How are you today?" I stumbled through work, a zombie version of myself. 

I was comforted by so many who knew her and loved her and, as they say, time does (eventually) heal all wounds. After nearly a decade, I've learned to compartmentalize my pain. But even something simple, such as a Facebook memory, can pull me right back under that all-encompassing wave of grief. 

Molly, the original sidekick.

When Molly was around nine years old, along came a fellow named Foghorn Leghorn, who came to be known as Foggy to his friends. He was seven weeks old. When I got home that day, I held him in the palm of one hand while I opened the door to the house. He was supposed to be a short-term foster (hence the goofy “temporary” name), but you know how that can go...

From day one, Foggy was meant to be my dog, and I his person. I've often called Molly my "heart dog," but with Foggy I soon learned it was possible to love more than one dog with all of your heart. Hard to believe that fat-bellied little pup just turned 13. He’s now the same age Molly was when she left me.

Today was a perfect fall day: crisp, clear and  my absolute favorite WA weather. I worked the first half of the day (with the dogs' help in most classes and lessons). After work, we romped in an empty field. I then spent one-on-one time with each of them: walking, sniffing, playing, training, more sniffing, sitting in the sun and simply enjoying each other’s unique company. 

When we got home today, Foggy's back legs looked as bad as I've seen them, especially the left rear, despite a relatively easy day for him physically. For months I've suspected that he's got spinal stenosis or a growth in or near his spinal cord.* He's still sharp as a tack mentally, though deaf as a post. It seems he will follow in Molly's footsteps: a keen and intact mind with a body that can no longer keep up. A mile is a long walk for him these days, and I remember those days with Molly as well. It was such a shock when Green Lake (Seattle),  a roughly three mile loop, became too far for her. 

Every moment is a gift. Sometimes the days can feel so damn long, but the years are so damn short. I'm viscerally aware of Foggy's decline. I'm hereby throwing myself headlong into his/our bucket list. For now, we'll snuggle on the couch as we wind down for the night. 

As far as the weeks to come, I absolutely dread the day. I'm not ready. I will never be ready. The thought of losing him...that day simply cannot ever arrive. It's something I've started to be so very conscious of despite my inability to comprehend it at all. 

To all those who have loved and lost a beloved canine, I know you know. I hold you all in my heart, and I know you hold Foggy and me in yours. 



*A request: please no advice re: medical or other treatments for Foggy. This ain't my first rodeo and I've got it handled. I will keep him happy and comfortable for as long as I can in the best ways I know how. 

Nature, Nurture & the Pursuit of the Perfect Puppy

Four years ago, Mack was perfect. A puppy. A "blank slate." Born to a social mother and socialized with people, other dogs and his littermates for 11+ weeks. Breed mix? Challenging. Adoption age? A little on the older side. Outlook? Incredibly positive. His mama just happens to be a professional dog trainer...

First day home, August 2015.

Raising a dog-social dog was top on my list of priorities. I knew I was on borrowed time with his age (adopted at 12 weeks) and faced a challenging breed mix (all working dog, including 50% livestock guardian), but I was on a mission to avoid reactivity and create the perfect neutral dog for training demos and other situations. 

We sought out other puppies for play dates. We enrolled in multiple puppy classes. Mack participated in play times in the weekly puppy classes I was teaching. This boy went to puppy school every day and his play was carefully monitored. 

Play date with BFF for life, Koda Bear. 

Young "cousin" dogs, Mack & Ollie, just chillin'.

Play date with adult Pyrenees mix friend, Teague. 

Mack was a super star, mastering social interactions with other puppies and with people and graduating from all of his puppy classes. He was good with big dogs, small dogs, old dogs, young dogs. You name it, his dog/dog social skills were phenomenal. We were regulars at the neighborhood dog park and it was such a wonderful way to exercise him and keep his socialization going. 

One of many diplomas. 

Dog park awesomeness. 

And then - yup - there's a "but" on the horizon and here it is: ADOLESCENCE!

Not a puppy, not an adult: budding adolescence at its finest. 

I still remember the first time Mack reacted negatively to another dog. It was PAWS Walk 2016 and he was 16 months old.* He touched noses with a large dog and then "snarked." I mindlessly yanked him back and said, "I'm so sorry! He's never done that before!" The second time was another on-leash greeting with a large dog. About the same time, he pinned a submissive adolescent, intact Golden Retriever in puppy class. It was a class I was teaching, so I removed him. Then he did something similar at the dog park. Noisy pinning, but no contact with teeth or injury. But he's huge. And I got yelled at. Shamed, really. (*Fun fact: The vast majority of dogs in my Reactive Rover classes are between 8 months and 2 years of age.)

From that point on, Mack was on leash around other dogs with me doing my whole "Reactive Rover" protocol. 
He luckily had dog friends he could play with, so he still got good social time and exercise. But I was pretty bummed. I spent a lot of time lamenting the loss of my "perfect puppy" and asking what the heck happened. I mean, what's the point of doing everything right if it still turns out wrong?! WHYYYYYYY?!?! did this happen? Why?! 

Besties for resties, Floyd (25 lbs) and Mack (85 lbs)!

Ian Dunbar offers the following explanation, "Dog-dog reactivity appears out of the blue very early in adolescence.  After just a couple of scary scraps in the park, big dogs and little dogs especially are kept on-leash, which severely exacerbates reactivity. Walks decrease in frequency and dog-dog socialization zeroes out. Dogs fight because: 1. They are dogs, 2. Classical conditioning is non-existent after three or four months of age and 3. Socialization stops dead after a couple of scraps." 

NAILED IT. 

When I stepped away from my pity party, I was able to see that Mack has turned out exceptionally well on so many levels. He’s a Canine Good Citizen, a therapy dog and excels at agility and parkour. He loves children and accompanies me to humane education events. He’s a dream for grooming and nail trims. And he does not display many of the breed traits that could have surfaced (and that have surfaced with the littermates I am in touch with). Genetics: it's a thing! Descriptions of the Anatolian Shepherd are sobering at best. 

Another factor? My dog is huge. And he looks like a muppet. Or Alf. And sometimes Tom Selleck. But I digresss... 

Many times in his young age (and still), dogs saw/see him and have a negative response ranging from charging, snarling and barking in his face to screaming and cowering. I took it for granted that he was such a "good dog" and so "tolerant." The "Gentle Giant" narrative was deeply embedded in my psyche. But I should have been counter conditioning. I repeat, I should have been counter conditioning!! 

Again, Dr. Dunbar sums it up well, "Perhaps the surest bet in dog behavior is that adolescent dogs, especially males, will get into scraps. Prediction approximates a 100% certainty and prevention requires non-stop classical conditioning from puppyhood, throughout adolescence until the dog’s sunset years. Of course a three-month-old puppy is a party animal. The goal is for your dog to remain sociable throughout adolescence and well into adulthood. Never take a puppy’s or young adolescent’s friendly greetings for granted. Every time your three-month-old, four-month-old, five-month-old, six-month-old puppy, or adolescent or adult dog greets or acknowledges another dog, say, 'Good Dog', smile and after the other dog passes by, give your dog a friendly pat or a piece of kibble."

Okay, so I gave verbal praise. But I should have jackpotted him with the tastiest of treats anytime he got “yelled at” by a dog. I mean, it was like this:

• Mack: "Hi, I'm Mack! What's your name?"
• Other dog: "ACKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!! EFF OFF YOU GIGANTIC ALIEN BEAST FROM HELL!!!" 

Over and over and over again. Who can blame him for becoming a jerk to new dogs?!

And, adolescent male dogs are 100% likely to fight?! Can we normalize this to help clients?! I probably could have convinced people to let me work through it with a Chihuahua, but an Anatolian Shepherd mix? Forget it. 

Luckily, Mack still has his OG besties to play with -- Koda, Floyd, Penny, Ollie and the three dogs he lives with (except Poe, who hates him). 

Playing with Sister (Wren) at home. 

The magic that is Mack & girlfriend P. 

He can even meet new friends if introduced correctly. A parallel walk on a wide trail usually does the trick. But I had no luck finding play groups for "remedial socialization." IMHO, this is an area that is sadly lacking in the dog training world. It's just too hard to find dogs to use, and to subject those dogs to rude behavior repeatedly.

New Aussie friend, Truth!

New Border Collie friends, Youke and Brady!

Which brings me to the point of this blog. Over the past few weeks, Mack has met new dogs on trails (despite my best efforts to avoid this) and he has been appropriate! No bullying, no snarking, just a friendly "hello" and even a little play. I was shocked in the best way. I jolly-talked the heck out of that sh*t and we had a major treat party after we passed the dogs. I may have even cried some happy tears...
Is my perfect puppy still in there? And/or is all of the training I've done for the past three-and-a-half years starting to pay off? Let's just say I'm cautiously optimistic. (BTW, I'm not crying...YOU'RE crying!)

If you're wondering why I care...I have four dogs who need exercise. My Rat Terrier runs off after bunnies, so he's on leash. The other two have perfect recalls. Mack is only about 80% when called from another dog, so he is also leashed. It's a pain. I want him to be able to go with us on hikes and I need him to either be friendly with other dogs and/or have a reliable recall. Otherwise, it's just not responsible of me to have him off leash. I'd even like him to go to the dog park again because his play skills are lovely and he likes interacting with other dogs once he meets them properly.  

As a professional, I struggle to explain to clients what happens to dogs in adolescence.  How do I convince them that early training and socialization programs are vitally important, despite the fact that the results will likely wane or even disappear for a period of time?!

I'd love feedback from dog guardians and trainers on this topic! 

Resource: https://www.dogstardaily.com/blogs/it%E2%80%99s-all-about-adolescence by Dr. Ian Dunbar.