I want to tell you a story today about my own dog, Rig. I’ll be writing a lot about Rig in the near future, but for now, I want to focus on a lesson that she really reinforced for me: be curious about your dog.
Rig was a tough puppy. I loved her from day one, but I’ll admit that I didn’t particularly like her for the first year of her life. She was loud, and she had a habit of shouting and height-seeking when aroused that was painful both auditorily and physically. This became a vicious cycle: she’d feel pressure (environmental or social), she’d leap up at my face, and she’d bark loudly enough that it literally triggered our doorbell to ring. It was frustrating and painful, and I didn’t react well.
I tried several training interventions, of course. The most successful was to cue her to do something else. However, she wasn’t always able to respond right away, because we were fighting through a lot of arousal. When my spoons were too low, I’d tether or crate her with a puzzle toy and stay out of her range. This didn’t solve the issue, but it managed it to keep both of us on a more even keel. At my worse moments, when I was extra painful and she was extra over-the-top, I’d cross my arms and move forwards into her bubble when she “pierced” my bubble until she yielded space: a holdover from my days as a balanced trainer, and not a technique I’m proud of. None of it fixed the underlying issue.
Watching videos of her siblings, I noticed one of her littermate’s owners doing something novel with her puppy (who displayed the same behavior). When her puppy would start to pop, she’d verbally acknowledge her change in arousal with a light “whee!” or “yahoo!” and continue on. The lightness of her tone didn’t add to her puppy’s arousal, and moving on modeled what she wanted her puppy to do. The heavy stress that Rig and I were experiencing just wasn’t present in their interactions, even when her dog was just as hot and aroused. I liken the entire litter to popcorn in hot oil: give them long enough, and they’re going to “pop” loudly. But Rig was like a little firework, whereas her sister was simply a corn kernel, light and fluffy after her pop. This was interesting!
I started to do the same thing, acknowledging Rig’s “hot” moments without trying to change her behavior. And, of course, it helped a lot. Since social or environmental pressure was the cause of her popping, adding pressure wasn’t ever going to be the solution.
I’ve been thinking about this lesson a lot for the past two years, through raising more puppies and coaching even more people on their relationships with their own dogs. And I know that I’m not the only person who misses the forest for the trees. So, this is important, readers. I’m giving you permission to be curious about your dog.
Be curious about who your dog is as an individual! What makes your dog their own self? What does she seek out? What does she avoid? How many body lengths away from you does your dog naturally place herself in different contexts? What does pressure (environmental, social, hormonal) look like for your dog? How does she naturally resolve pressure if you don’t step in? What do her coping strategies look like? What does she look like when she’s curious, when she’s aroused, when she’s relaxed, and when she’s unsure?
I want you to spend time just learning about your dog, separate from an agenda or any demands. Do you know what her interests are? What does she need and want from you? How can you help her, how can you have fun with her, and how does she like to receive affection? It doesn’t matter whether you’ve had other dogs of her breed, type, or even family lines before: she’s her own self, and that self is different from other dogs. The more you can celebrate who she is as her own self, the more you’ll find your connection growing.
From there, I think you’ll find, much like I did with Rig, that training is easier and more enjoyable.
When you build a bond of understanding and friendship first, skills are so much less onerous to create. Think of recalls, for example. If you know what interests your dog, you’re going to be better equipped to set her up in the right environment to provide appropriate challenges: not too hard, but not too easy. When you know how close she naturally sticks by you, leash manners become easier, because you can start with a leash length that’s appropriate for your dog (my spouse’s dog Iroh walks delightfully well on a 10’ leash, never pulling and following direction instantly, but absolutely falls apart on a 4’ leash at this stage in our training journey, for example). When you know how your dog likes to play, you can connect with her in a playful way at the vet clinic when she’s a bit stressed, and help to release that stress with some good old-fashioned endorphins. When you know how your dog copes with stress, you can better understand why she might disconnect, get the zoomies, sniff, or, like Rig, punch you in the face… and since you’ll understand that she’s trying to cope with stress instead of being “bad,” you’ll be able to more easily identify what stressed her and take steps to support her through that.
So reader, I want to hear from you. Are you curious about your dog? What have you learned about what makes your dog special and unique? Please share in the comments!
Paws Abilities 