I mentioned
shortly after acquiring Greta that I learned a few new dog training concepts
while at TSE, and, unsurprisingly, that I had acquired some bad habits and
incorrect assumptions about canine psychology. I’d like to take a few minutes
now to share with you some of these realisations and discoveries. But before I
do, here’s a picture of Greta’s first acting gig; she’s performing the role of
a jellyfish!
I think the
most important misunderstanding that I discovered and corrected this time was
that distractions are worse offenses than work errors. One ought to correct
more heavily for sniffing a bush along the sidewalk than failing to stop at a
set of stairs. This is because a distraction means the dog’s mind is no longer
on its job, whereas a work error does not necessarily mean the dog is
distracted, but forgot one single aspect of its job for one moment. A
distraction means the dog is no longer paying attention to your safety; a work
error is the dog’s attention shifting from one danger or obstacle to the next
too quickly to catch all of them. I had understood this to be in the opposite
order, so with Prada I corrected more for work errors than distractions, and
thus found her work to be a bit sloppier and not as safe as it could have been.
Applying the updated understanding to my work with Greta, I feel considerably
more confident with her work.
This, I think,
is an excellent example of how the partnership is an extremely interdependent
one. It highlights the limitations of canine psychology and the responsibility
of the human partner to keep the dog on task. The dog is not an “easy fix” for
navigation; it is a relationship which requires constant maintenance. What you
put into your dog’s training is what you get out of it, and so dedicated
attention to your dog’s behaviour is crucial. Prada learned that she didn’t
have to pay attention to her job so long as she got the basics down right, and
eventually even those basics began to slip because I simply wasn’t paying
attention to her work. I was texting, or talking with whoever walked with me,
or paying attention to where we were going rather than where we were, or
solving scheduling problems in my head. One cannot multitask while working a
dog. Carry on a conversation with someone present? Sure, as long as that person
knows that they come second to your dog’s training – and you know it, too. But,
no texting, no phone, no daydreaming, please!
Multitasking
with a dog is just inadvisable in general. One ought not to play tug-of-war
with one hand and empty the dishwasher with the other. In the words of Star
Trek character O’Brien, “..you’ll wind up doing neither very well!” Also, it is difficult to do yoga while your
dog wants a belly rub. Greta crawled underneath my low lunge and flipped over
on her back, and there was no one there to take a picture!
The next new
discovery about canine psychology I acquired at TSE is something about which I have
already written, but is so counter-intuitive to most humans that it is worth
covering again. In human conflict resolution we talk about escalating by
degrees. It’s considered unhelpful, even detrimental, to go from calm to
shouting in two sentences. One ought to attempt to communicating rising
frustration gradually so that the conflict doesn’t escalate beyond what it
needs to, and in order to make the other conversant feel safe communicating.
This, however, dos not work with dogs.
Dogs
comprehend three tones of voice.
1)
The
“good dog!’ tone, happy and energetic, higher pitched.
2)
The
“sit!” tone, firm and commanding.
3)
The
“bad dog!” tone, sharp and growling, lower pitched.
Notice there
are absolutely no gradients in between “good dog” and “bad dog” or command and
scolding.” None. There is no calculated escalation, no avoiding escalation, no
defensiveness or making it safe for the other conversant. This is not a
conversation. You are informing your dog that she has done something wrong; doggy
morality is as black and white as Biblical morality. Believe it or not, your
dog will be comforted by this simplicity, and confused and frustrated by more
complex communication. It is not abusive or explosive to go from “command” to “bad
dog!” Clarity is essential; sympathetic discipline is confusing.
The third topic
I would like to cover today is thumb position and “driving” your dog. This is
specific to working with a Seeing Eye dog, or other guiding dog. Dogs are
extremely sensitive to changes in pressure and tension in their harnesses. Not
quite as sensitive as dressage stars, but still, they notice. More importantly,
working with a dog guide is not like driving; you don’t turn the wheel to make
the vehicle go where you want it to. You enter a command, and then allow the
dog to make the direction change. This means that you must be aware of any
side-to-side pressure you apply to the handle of the harness. And this, my
friends, means not getting lazy about thumb position. Your thumb is involved in
roughly 40% of hand function – but directing your dog is not part of that 40%. So, if you see me working Greta with my thumb
anywhere except tucked harmlessly underneath the handle, call me on it! I used
to rest the thumb on the corner of the handle, and unconsciously use it to
emphasize commands of left and right via the extra leverage. The handle is not
a steering wheel, though. It is…a handle, something to hold on to, the reason
the dog doesn’t just take off without me, and the means by which I feel the dog’s
change in direction, not the way in which I influence the dog’s change in
direction.
This
ultimately translates to “become aware and let go of your control issues while
working your dog.” Jennifer Rothschild writes in her book Lessons I Learned in the Dark about her control issues when riding
a tandem bicycle with her sighted husband (Rothschild & Moore, 2009). Rothschild
lost her sight gradually via retinitis pigmentosa. She has the added frustration
of knowing what was out there to be seen, and now unable to see it. She kept
trying to inform her guide of obstacles and hazards and directions, which
frustrated her guide to no end. Doing this to your dog, however, will not only frustrate
him but confuse, and ultimately undrain him. If you keep telling him how to
avoid obstacles and force changes in direction before he judges it safe, then
not only are you in danger of tripping or running into something or getting hit
by a person, bike, or, God forbid, a car, but you are also telling him that you
can and will always do the navigating.
He doesn’t need to navigate now, so he won’t. Now you’re just walking your dog,
not working with him. So watch your hand, watch your thumb, and make sure you’re
not accidentally undraining your dog.
Morals of
this story:
1)
Be
as focused as you expect your dog to be.
2)
Be
clear, speak dog.
3)
Tell
your thumb to get over its control issues and go back where it belongs.
And with
that I shall bid you all good night.
I love this little house because,
It offers after dark,
A pause for rest,
A rest for paws,
A place to moor my bark
“Motto for a
Dog House,” by Arthur Guiterman
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