Pit Bulls as Therapy Dogs

This article was spotted by a friend on Twitter. It's worth sharing. We've moved toward being a culture that is afraid of certain kinds of dogs and forget that by in large, the problem is with how people train and treat dogs. Check out this story about pit bulls as therapy dogs and keep it in mind the next time you encounter breed specific legislation in your local communities. (read more about BSLs here and here.

Of particular interest, by the way, is that breed specific legislation in Bermuda would make me a restricted dog. Can you imagine someone wanting to restrict Magnolia Wigglesworth? That's ridiculous. Check it out here.

AUSTIN (KXAN) - In the gymnasium at north Austin's Gullett Elementary School, a young boy sits on the floor with a book in his lap. The child is trying to sharpen his reading skills and he has a helper. Actually, he has two helpers: a woman who is volunteering her time and her dog.

Across the room, Patti Brauss, a 14-year veteran physical education teacher, watches with a grin on her face.

"There are kids who absolutely light up when they see a dog and that builds bridges sometimes if there's a stressful situation in the classroom," said Brauss, "or a skill the child can't do, and by being able to share that with a dog or be motivated by the dog, we can't do that as humans. It's the power of the petting."

On the gym floor another dog rolls over on her back and accepts some of that petting from another student.

"I think she's precious," the child said. "She's precious; she's a precious dog."

Nearby, another girl bends down and kisses a dog on the head.

Nearby, another girl bends down and kisses a dog on the head.

It's not just the kids that are getting into it all. Owner Ashley Arkin brought her dog to the gym.

"It's that emotional connection that just breaks you down and brings you back to your primal self," she said. "I love it; I love helping other people and the best thing I can do is help others with my dog."

The thing is, though, Arkin's dog is not just any dog. He's a pit bull dog! That's right, the breed that many people condemn as vicious and uncontrollable. Type "pit bull attacks" into Google and you'll be deluged with over 2,000,000 hits. Pit bull owner Lydia Zaidman begs to differ.

"They love people; they're extremely tolerant of people." Zaidman said. "Of course, each individual one has to be temperament tested and each one is an individual like any other dog. But in general, they temperament test very high. They really love people; they like to be around people and so they do really well."

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Chinese Medicine to the Rescue

Many of you know me as a rambunctious, cuddly, and generally outgoing puppy. I've not always been that way--as I puppy I was a rather shy dog. With lots of good socialization I've transformed much of that shy behavior into something generally gregarious.

That's not always the case for me. My anxiety has been creeping back up again over the last few months. First I thought it was because of some bad experiences at the vet. You'd be anxious too if you had those sorts of exams. The human built back up a schedule of socialization and kept on giving me many positive interactions with things that I was scared of (visiting the vet office, going to unfamiliar places, meeting men with facial hair). This was going along well and then my anxiety went back up: driving to work one day we went over a patch of interstate that was being resurfaced. The rumbling got me me and I started shaking. Now I'm prone to trembling every time I get into the car. The 12 hour car ride to Cleveland didn't help.

Things keep on moving in the wrong direction so the human decided to bring in professional help. Yesterday afternoon we headed out for a consult with our friendly veterinarian and holistic health specialist, Dr. Cirnigliaro, also known as Dr. Dan.

I sure did put on a good show for him. I pranced right into the waiting room and put my paws up on the reception desk. Friendly as friendly can be, right? Well as soon as the assistant came out I hid behind my human and started licking my lips trying to calm myself. Two licks was all it took before I decided it was time to panic. I started trembling--softly at first and then my whole body vibrated. I tucked my tail tight between my legs for good measure.

Yes. It's true. I'm a fearful dog. Only in certain circumstances, and not even in those certain circumstances with any degree of regularity.

Still--this is no way to live!

Dr. Dan gave me an exam. I'm perfectly healthy. Despite my shaking and trembling he commented that I have nearly a perfect temperament. I let them examine me--I didn't fight or argue. With a little coaxing I came to them (they had food--like I was going to give that up!). Before I knew it both assistants were on the floor cooing over me. I approached slowly, on my own terms, from the side. They knew not to look straight at me--and I knew to look at them from the side of my eyes. We did this little dance and it let me feel safe. Before we knew it I was rolling over getting my belly pet and kissing the assistants.

That Dr. Dan is a different story--he has facial hair. I'm not so sure about that.

So Dr. Dan did a regular wellness exam. He also felt my various pulses and looked at my tongue. Can you believe that? I'm told this part of the examination is for the traditional Chinese Medicine. I was very cooperative with this part of the examination. I was nervous so I was yawning in an attempt to calm myself down. It just so happens that when I yawn I unfurl my tongue. Volia. Examination complete.

After lots of careful thought and conversation, we've decided I'm going to start on an herbal preparation called Shen Calmer.

Shen what? Depending on where you are, shen means different things. In ancient Egypt a shen ring was a circle with a line at a tangent through it. When objects appeared inside the shen ring, the object was considered to be eternally protected. In Chinese mythology shen (which means large clam monster) is a shape shifting dragon that is known to cause mirages. In this particular case, shen comes from traditional Chinese medicine--and it is associated with the element of fire. From this perspective I have too much shen (fire) and need to cool down a bit so I can be back in balance. The herbal mixture that I'm taking, called Shen Calmer, is designed to calm my shen and cool me down.

I'll report back to you all in three or four weeks. Dr. Dan tells me that it will take about that long to see if this preparation works for me. If it doesn't, or if I need more support, we might consider acupuncture.

The human of course will be upping his behavioral interventions. I'll be doing a lot more structured supervised socialization activities. I'm probably going to be going for a lot of short car rides and be given a steady stream of tasty chicken. Why, you ask? Multiple short exposures to things that frighten me (car rides) paired with pleasurable activities (eating chicken) is an excellent behavioral intervention for anxiety.

I also have the feeling that my daily exercise program is going to increase. The snow has gotten in the way of our hour long walks every morning. That's a wonderful opportunity to use up some of my extra energy and provides a calming tonic effect on my well-being.

If you have similar things going on I strongly invite you to consult with a well qualified veterinarian and dog coach. Some of these interventions seem simple (chicken in the car, for example) but really aren't. When exposure therapy is done wrong, you'll make your anxiety go up. That's not what you want to happen!

On Therapy Dog Examinations, Fear, and Systematic Desensitization

Last Sunday was the big day--it was finally time to take my examination to become a therapy dog. Once my paperwork is processed, I'll officially be a registered pet partner with the Delta Society. The human was excessively worried about the test. There were a few key things that he thought I'd have difficulty with--things that might actually cause me to fail.

His biggest concern was that as a rule, I hate being brushed. The brush comes out and I immediately start mouthing the brush. Part of the exam is being brushed by the examiner and in order to pass said exam I can't be eating the brush. He practiced and practiced brushing me. The general principle was that every time the brush came out he'd bring out food. As he brushed my fur there was a steady stream of little rewards entering into my drooling mouth. He thought for sure this would work. That is, he though for sure it would work until one day he left the brush on a table and I snuck off with it and chewed it.

What did I do during the exam? The brush came out and I rolled over to get my belly brushed.

The next worry of the human was the neutral dog. On a lead, I walk on the outside of the human as he passes another human with a dog on a lead. The humans stop for a few moments, shake hands, and exchange pleasantries. I'm not supposed to lunge, bark, snarl, or otherwise be inappropriate toward the human or the other dog. I'm not an aggressive dog by nature: that wasn't the human's concern. Rather, I'm a playful dog. Each and every dog that I pass is considered a potential best friend. I like to way my tail, do a play bow, and otherwise try to entice the other dog to say hello to me. This is somewhat problematic for the test.

What did I do? Exactly what the human anticipated. He stopped and shook hands with the other human. I went up on my rear feet hoping that I could shake hands with the human too. I passed this portion--while I didn't pass it with flying colors it was okay because the human was in control of me. He made sure I didn't get onto the other human.

The problem I faced--and what almost caused me to fail my exam--was totally unexpected. During the exam I was examined by the examiner. He was supposed to touch my paws, look in my ears, look in my mouth. He then went on to pet me in an exuberant and clumsy way and give me a restraining hug.

These are all things that happen to me on a regular basis. Those of you who meet me in the office know that I love this. We have one particular patient who comes running into the office, sits on the floor, and proceeds to roll me over, pat me vigorousness, squeeze me, and otherwise show me exuberant affection.

What did I do during this portion of the exam? The examiner was wearing a puffy winter vest. He took it off prior to getting down on the floor. I took that as my cue to hide behind my human to do anything I could do to avoid the situation. I displayed just about every sign I could that I was scared and exhibited every one of Turrid Rugaas' calming signals. We repeated that portion of the exam with a female examiner and I did marginally better.

The human first thought that it was the removal of the puffy winter vest. The human doesn't wear puffy winter vests and I've never seen one. In light of me become scared when I saw it being removed, he assumed at first that it was the stimulus that put me into a fear response. I wish I could speak: if I could I would have told the human that he had it all wrong. Thankfully he figured it out on the way home.

To understand why I got so scared the human needed to think about four other pieces of information.

1. The examiner was male
2. The examiner had a scruffy beard
3. Several months ago, for no apparent reason, I became fearful of a patient who has a scruffy beard. Previously I would sit in his arms and nuzzle the side of his neck.
4. Several months ago I became afraid of a homeless man with a scruffy beard that I used to run to greet.

So how does this all fit together? Why did I get scared? The human has been curious about the last two pieces of information for some time now. My behavior change was sudden, unexpected, and very localized. Other than those two situations I am outgoing, friendly, and confident.

Driving home from the examination I could see the light bulb appear over the human's head as he thought of one more piece of information. I was eager and excited to go to the vet as a puppy. I thought it was big fun to be examined, played with, and given attention. I would actually scamper into the vets office with my tail wagging! In a large part, this happened because my human went to the vet with me multiple times as a puppy and just walked in the door. No exams, no shots. He asked everyone to pet me and I learned that this was a good place to be.

As regular readers know, I had some bladder issues in the late summer and fall. No one could figure out what was going on and I needed all sorts of tests. Naturally, I started to become afraid of the vet--and guess what--the vets who did those procedures were men--some of which had scruffy beards.

The worst experience was when they tried to take a sterile urine sample from me. The vet and vet techs took me into the procedure room, strapped me down on my back, and inserted a tube into my bladder. The first time they did this I had just peed so there was nothing for them to take. A week later they did it again and I hadn't peed. I learned here that the vet was a scary place. Now rather than walking into the vet's office I started pulling away from the human at the door, displayed many signs of fear, and generally had an unpleasant time at the vet's office.

For a variety of reasons, the human fired that vet. He felt like he wasn't being treated like an equal partner in my health care and questioned the vet's knowledge. We tried a new vet. This office wanted to do more procedures--this time an x-ray and ultrasound. They needed the human to leave me at the vet's office. He asked if I could be given a tranquilizer--which they refused. Begrudgingly, he left me there as I was trembling. There again I was strapped down to a board and given procedures without any sort of tranquilizer. The human again questioned if this was a good idea and fired that vet because he felt like he wasn't being treated like an equal partner in my health care and questioned the vet's knowledge.

The third time was charm. The new vet had a holistic remedy for my issues and they have completely cleared up. I'm still afraid of the vet but have learned that I can walk into the office without trembling (we are back to random visits for playtime with the office staff).

Anyway, this is all to say that I was not afraid of the puffy winter vest. I was afraid of a man with a scruffy beard attempting to examine me. I learned that when men with scruffy beards examine me they usually restrain me and do very uncomfortable things. I've learned that it's best to avoid these sorts of men because if they restrain me, there isn't anything I can do but to wait it out.

The human feels he has enough data suggesting that I have a trauma response going on. Since I can't talk, I can't tell him if he's right. In the absence of other compelling data, he's going to move forward with a treatment plan that would be appropriate for a traumatized dog.

What's the treatment plan? Systematic desensitization. What's that? It's a procedure that one can do to reduce a trauma response to stimuli. It goes something like this. First off, the human prepared a list of stimuli that are triggering a fear response. He arranged the list in order of least triggering to most triggering. He then is exposing me to these stimuli in order, and pairing them with a pleasurable stimulus.

For example, the patient who I'm now afraid off gets to give me a piece of food every time he comes into the office. The human makes sure that it is successful every time. He keeps me on a lead so I'm in his control, close to him, and feeling safe. The other human will approach me in a positive way and offer me the food. If I take it, great. If I don't, that's great too. My human will praise me and continue to support me in feeling safe and secure. We take things at my own speed and I eventually learn that men with scruffy beards in the office are okay.

The human also makes sure that he encourages my curiosity when we are walking in Cambridge and we come across all sorts of different people. He lets me meet people at my own pace. If I show any signs of fear we slow down and he gives the other person a small bit of food to offer me. Every time this happens, I'm learning two things (a) it's okay to go slow and (b) when my human is interacting with someone they are usually friendly people who offer me food.

That's how systematic desensitization works. It's a slow process that builds successful experiences upon other successful experiences. It's been tested an replicated in scientific literature over and over again. It's effective, safe, and a powerful agent of change.

An alternative is flooding that has been popularized on television by dog trainers such as Caesar Millian. When flooding is used in dogs, humans, and other creatures the individual is held within the context of a fearful stimuli and not released, no matter what the creature does, until the creature gives up. In this case if I was strapped down onto a table by a human and wasn't released from the situation, no matter what I did, until I gave up--that would be flooding.

Keep in mind that most people confusing negative reinforcement with flooding. In negative reinforcement, a creature can exhibit a certain behavior that will cause the stimulus to stop. For example if I was strapped to the table and released only when I was calm, that would be negative reinforcement. If I remained tied to a board after I gave up that would flooding. Remember that with flooding, there is nothing a creature can do to escape a stimulus other than to give up and wait.

In some cases, flooding works. The human does not use it for treating humans, dogs, or any creature. Flooding doesn't provide a creature with useful coping skills to approach novel situations with confidence. It teaches a creature to give up and not respond.

With systematic desensitization a creature is provided with tools (humans can be taught coping skills to reduce levels of anxiety, dogs and other creatures can have their natural coping skills reinforced and enhanced) to meet a fearful situation with success.

Try it out--and be sure to ask your dog trainer or friendly psychologist for help. Any behavioral intervention needs a qualified expert to help you design a program that works.

Curing my Anxiety Disorder

Yes that's right, I'm not afraid to admit it. I have a phobia. Every since I was a little puppy I had a phobia of metal grates on sidewalks. Sure, there were other things I was afraid of: elevators were super scary at first. It's still touch and go when I see women wearing sunglasses and hats. For the most part, I was exposed to just about every kind of stimulus as a young puppy so while I might be cautious, I'm also curious.

Only a particular kind of grate bothered me. You see, sewer grates were okay. I would sniff them, walk over them (assuming my paws didn't fall through), and generally be okay with them. I was fine with the metal coverings that some trees in urban areas have. They are a wonderful storehouse of smells: I tend to stop at each on of them and smell ever square inch.

There is a particular kind of metal grate that they use to cover subway access vents that really bother me. Some grates that cover electrical vaults under the sidewalk also really bother me. I avoid them at all costs. I walk around them, I sit down and look at the human with pleading eyes, and well, you get the picture. There is a bridge that we walked over once that was entirely a grate: I made the human carry me all the way across the bridge.

No one really thought of this as a huge problem. There were plenty of places for me to walk where there were no metal grates. It was easy enough to go around the metal grates. It never got in the way of my enjoyment or that of my human. I'm small enough that in an emergency I could be carried (like the bridge).

My human tells me that my grate phobia was on his list of things to work on in the future. He's got more pressing things to teach me, so he wasn't in a rush. In the end, this required no work on his part at all: a friend who discovered a well placed piece of food did the trick.

Before we get to explaining how I was cured of my anxiety disorder, let's talk about two popular techniques that are frequently used in helping fearful dogs: flooding and systematic desensitization.

Flooding is a behavioral technique involves exposing a dog to the fearful stimulus until the dog remains calm. This tool is popularized in Cesar Millan's television show, The Dog Whisperer. In my case, I would have been placed on a grate and forced to stay there until my fear response dissipated. An important key is that there is no punishment applied at any time: I would be simply confined to a metal grate and left there until my fear response ended. Flooding is a tool that was researched in the lab with humans. For example, someone who had a phobia of snakes might be locked in a room filled with snakes. The human isn't let out until they stopped trembling.

It's highly effective. It's also dangerous. If a human lacks the necessary skills to induce a relaxation response the episode of flooding can induce a traumatic response. Phobia + trauma equals more problems, not less. This also seems more than a little cruel to me, does it to you? How would you feel if I locked you in a room of snakes, spiders, or growling aggressive dogs? You wouldn't like it? Then why would you want to do that to me?

Another tool is systematic desensitization. In state-of-the-art behavioral treatment for phobias, humans are generally taught a variety of techniques to induce a relaxation response. When the human has mastered these tools they are gradually exposed to the stimulus that triggers the phobia. A person might think about snakes and then practice a relaxation technique, for example. Once a human masters thinking about snakes without inducing a panic response the stimulus becomes progressively more intense. The human looks at pictures of snakes, the human looks at other people handling live snakes, the human looks at snakes closely, and finally the human touches the snake.

Since dogs don't understand English, humans can't teach them progressive muscle relaxation, mindfulness, or other distress tolerance skills. Dogs can only be confined to an area where they have to cope with a stimulus. Humans can only hope the dogs nervous system is effective enough that some sort of relaxation response will naturally be induced. If it doesn't happen, the dog is likely to develop secondary behavioral problems as a result of the flooding.

So what's a caring human to do? Dogs can be desensitized to fearful stimuli. It just takes a lot of time, effort, and love. My human has let me sniff the scary metal grates for months. This was preparation for his intervention. While I was scared of the grates and wouldn't step on them, I was fine sniffing them. I've had hundreds of opportunities to sniff the metal grate and discover that nothing scary happens. His next step was to start rewarding me every time I sniffed the grate. A "good girl" or a pet behind the ear would suffice. Again, he'd do this every time I sniffed a metal grate (which is at least four times every work day). Eventually the human would catch me touching the grate. Maybe my nose would touch it or perhaps even my paw. My human planned on having a big party every time this happened. An excited "good girl", a scratch behind the ear, or maybe even a little piece of turkey. Yum. Turkey.

In time, I'd be walking across the metal grates. It's not rocket science. It's also not very sexy. Systematic desensitization is slow, methodical, and frankly rather boring. This kind of work doesn't make for exciting television, either. It is however humane, highly effective, and enduring. It also builds a bigger foundation in the human/dog bond.

This brings me to my story. My anxiety disorder wasn't particularly intense. The human never forced the issue thus increasing my fear. I sniffed the grate, walked to the side, and went on my way. It was a minor fear, with inconsequential consequences.

Thanks to a psychologist friend paying close attention yesterday, I was cured of my phobia in a minute. The two humans were talking psychology things (some sort of complaint about insurance companies, I think) when we encountered a metal grate. My human walked to the side so we could avoid it. He wasn't paying attention to me (the nerve!) but the other human was. She saw me sniff the grate and I happened to have the edge of my paw on the metal. She made a big deal about it, said my name in a super excited voice, and got down close to the ground. I got carried away with her excitement. She seemed to excited that I thought there surely must have been something exciting for me to investigate. I walked right over to her on the metal grate. It was a lucky coincidence that there was a piece of food lodged in the grate. I licked and licked and licked, and totally forgot I was standing on something scary.

The humans said goodbye at the T stop and we walked back to the office. We passed by that same metal grate and--you guessed it--I walked right onto it looking for the food. The human was prepared for this and had some turkey in his pocket. Yum! Turkey!

Mind you, I'm still wary of other metal grates--just not the one I found food it. My human tells me to expect to find food in random metal grates from this time forward. By the middle of summer I'll probably we walking on all of them.

That was easy, wasn't it?