Man's Best Friend in Any Language

I came across the following clip of two dogs who survived the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. Some view the clip and see a dog who won't leave another injured dog. That is likely only half the story. It's likely that both dogs are are also staying close to their homes in an attempt to find and protect their missing humans.

Confusing, scary, and devastating for all involved.

It serves as a good reminder that each and every family needs a disaster plan--and that disaster plan needs to take into account any animals that you are responsible for. The Federal Emergency Management agency as a webpage detailing some steps you can consider taking to make a plan for your animals.

The two dogs in this video, by the way, were rescued.

Loose Leash Walking (or how to not drive your human nuts)

One of my regular readers asked a question about walking on a leash. Her dog Claire, and aspiring therapy dog, is finding it difficult to become a registered therapy dog with the Delta Society because she tends to pull on her leash while walking. Claire's human partner was wondering if there were any tips she might use that could help out Claire with this portion of the exam. I'm so glad you asked!

First off, there seems to be an expectation that therapy dogs are perfect at all times under all circumstances. As the popular perception goes, we never jump up on someone, we never bark, we never pull our leash, etc. When is the last time you met a perfect human that was (for example) never crabby, never prone to overeating, and never snapped at another driver while waiting in traffic? That's what I thought! We all have off days, bad moments, or times when we behave in ways we wish we hadn't. We ought to have similar expectations for therapy dogs.

Take the experience my human and I had with the therapy dog exam. The human we very concerned about the neutral dog part of the test. I'm supposed to walk with the human up to another human with a dog. The humans talk for a few moments and then continue walking away from each other. I'm not supposed to be reactive toward the neutral dog.

The human was in a minor tizzy about this portion of the exam. I'm a super friendly pup and have this special way of whining and wiggling when I see another friendly dog. I'm not afraid of the dogs: I want to play with them. The human was convinced I would fail because I am seemingly incapable of walking past the neutral dog without displaying my extensive desire to play. What did I do at the test? I bet your first thought is that I was perfectly well behaved. You probably are thinking I was an exemplar of ideal behavior. Wrong! I did what I always do: I pulled on the lead a little, went up on my back feet trying to give a friendly hello to the human walking past my human, and generally was my normal happy playful self.

I didn't fail. Why? The human anticipated by response. He knew I was likely to do this so he was prepared to tighten my lead. He prevented me from going up on to the human (and thus also prevented me from having a close interaction with the neutral dog). When I went up on my toes to greet the woman he asked me to sit (which I did) and then we went on our way. Well it wasn't ideal, and I didn't pass that section with a perfect score, it was good enough. I'm a real world dog, my human is a real world human, and we know how to interact and be safe in real world situations.

On my therapy dog exam there was some space for there to be a tighter lead (rather than a loose lead). As you all know, I am part Basset Hound. Among other things, this means that my nose is the most important organ in my body. My body is lead through the world by my nose. I walk around (for the most part) with my nose to the ground. I'm not all that interested in listening to other people when I catch a scent of something I like. That is my nature. It isn't my nature to be prance next to my human. He's always going to have to be aware of me when walking in crowded environments: if I catch a smell I am going to follow it. He'll have to be ready to tighten up my lead a bit and give me a little extra guidance. No big deal, and no reason for me to fail a therapy dog examination (after all, during the part when I was supposed to be walking on a loose lead I had my nose stuck to the ground trying to follow the scent of something good).

So my first suggestion for loose lead walking is to be easy and alter your expectations. Be aware of your dog, know what she is doing, know what is in your environment, and be proactive. It isn't about being perfect: it's about being safe and in control.

My second suggestion is to balance your walking times with opportunities for your dog to explore on her own with time when your dog is expected to follow your lead. Teach your dog a word to differentiate between the two different experiences. When I am expected to walk close to my human and not explore he says "follow me." When I am allowed to direct my own walk he says "explore."

How do you teach the difference between "follow me" and "explore?" We started with "watch me." When I was a young puppy I started to learn watch me. Whenever I made eye contact with my human he said "watch me" and gave me some sort of reward (excited happy petting, a piece of kibble, a click on the clicker, etc.). When we were learning to walk on a lead we practiced that same skill. If I'm watching my human, I can't be sniffing. If I'm watching my human, I can't be barking at other dogs. As an added bonus, since I am also part herding dog I like watching things and keeping them together. Sometimes it is debatable if the human is leading me or if I'm herding him in any particular direction.

Anyway, over time "watch me" expanded into "follow me" and "stay close." When I strayed way and pulled on the leash I would hear "watch me." I knew this means if I looked at my human I'd get some sort of reward (most of the time, but not always). In order to receive my reward I'd have to (a) watch the human and (b) be close enough to the human so I could reach the reward. Without any effort at all I would start doing "follow me" which means walk very close to the humans leg, look up at him, and lick my lips in hope of getting a yummy reward. For the most part my reward now is that I touch my human's hand with my nose, wag my tail, and continue a happy walk.

Sounds easy? Right? It both is very easy and it isn't very easy. Training like this takes a lot of time, patience, and practice. Those who want their dog to instantly "heel" won't be satisfied with this technique because it isn't an instant technique (in my opinion, there are not instant techniques). I've gotten good at these skills but I'm still not "perfect." Sometimes I ignore my human. Sometimes I pull. When the human collected his patience, we start back to the beginning with a "watch me" and we continue. This is a life time practice.

I've seen dog trainers do all sorts of things. Some use a "choke" collar assuming that a dog will stop pulling to escape from the unpleasant sensation of their neck getting constricted. Usually this just seems to result in dogs that pull and wait for their humans to escape from the unpleasant sensation of being pulled. It's also dangerous (numerous dogs have suffered numerous injuries from these sorts of collars). Lastly, training like this doesn't start with the basis of giving your dog something to do (watch me, follow me, etc.). It starts with the basis of telling your dog what not to do. Humans (children and adults) as well as dogs do best when they are shown what they are supposed to be doing (given an antecedent) and then monitored to make sure they are performing that request. It's unrealistic to think that anyone will do what you want them to do if you give them a consequence for doing it prior to teaching/showing them what you want them to do.

I've also seen trainers do things like step in front of a pulling dog with one leg to block their path. My human is someone clumsy so this generally involved in him tripping and falling or stepping on me. In the end I don't think this is very effective because again, it's not starting with the expectation of what you want the dog to be doing. This isn't showing the dog how to follow, it's showing the dog that you want him to avoid getting stepped on.

I've seen trainers also walk in the opposite direction that the dog is pulling in. It makes for short frustrating walks. The idea here is that (a) the dog wants to walk in one direction and have a good time) and (b) the dog doesn't get to do that unless she complies with what you are asking. This can be effective as long as you first teach the dog what you want her to do (watch me, follow me, etc.). The dog does what is asked (watch me, follow me) and they get what they want (a reward, continued walking, praise, etc.). They don't do that and they don't get to continue walking (a good time to practice sit/say or a time to walk in the other direction).

There is one down side to teaching a dog "watch me." I find that I get into watching my human so much I will occasionally walk into things because I'm focused on him rather than where I am walking.

This help Lauren? Try it out and let us know what you think.

Pumpkin Fest

I got to go to the 20th Anniversary Pumpkin Fest in Keene New Hampshire. It was so much fun, though I just simply don't understand why I wasn't able to sample one of the 22,949 pumpkins. Is that asking for too much? Over to the left is a particularly tasty looking pumpkin at least to me!). Below that is a pumpkin that got to eat another pumpkin (so unfair!). Even though I didn't get a taste of it, I did manage to snag myself a half a hamburger that was discarded in a pile of leaves along with a donut of unknown flavor. 

I was a super well behaved dog. Good thing too, as unbeknown to the human, there were no dogs allowed! On one level, it makes sense that there are no dogs allowed. Many humans don't take time to properly socialize dogs: if everyone brought their dog it could become a very unsafe situation. Many humans also have this habit of not paying attention to what is going on around them and their dog which also can cause an unsafe situation. That's not so good either. Then of course there is the poop. I'd pick my own poop up if I had opposable thumbs, but since I don't I depend on the human. Why do some humans have so many problems with that?

Still, despite the human being a lawless individual who brazenly broke the ordinances of the city of Keene, this was a great opportunity to show off my confidence. I was pet, rubbed, ogled, and otherwise adored by the hordes of humans who were roaming around the downtown city streets. I even got to meet a few dogs (those little criminals!) and had a lovely time licking a particular law enforcement professional who I decided I wanted to greet.

How come I had such a good time? Socialization and past positive experiences. Since the day I left my foster home when I was just a few weeks old I was exposed on a consistent basis to new and novel situations. The human took me to cities, the country, farms, malls, on elevator rides, car rides, escalator rides, etc. I had fun positive experiences with all of these things. My favorite of all was when we would sit in Harvard Square or inside the subway station and crowds of people would gather around me petting me.

The human made sure I was safe. He made sure that as soon as I showed signs of being tired or becoming afraid he'd reduce the degree of stimulus. Over time, these experiences transformed me from a shy puppy into a confident dog who can (with supervision) safely handle situations like the Keene Pumpkin Fest.

You can learn more about socialization here, here, or here. You might also want to check out some of my earlier post about my own socialization.

Pondering the Meaning of Compassion on the Rail Trail

Sunday was just one day shy of longest day of the year--also known as summer solstice. While it wasn't also the hottest day of the year, it certainly seemed like it. The temperature was almost 90 and the humidity was so high my cold nose and panting couldn't keep me cool. As you see over to the right, I spent a great deal of time hiding on it fields of clover. They are a fantastic place to find bumblebees, little morsels of discarded foods, and chipmunks.

Chipmunks? Whoops. Wait just one minute. Did someone say chipmunks? Next to squirrels, I think chipmunks are my favorite thing to chase after. They seem to be slower and pay very little attention to me. I've gotten close to catching them but my lead always seems just a little too short. I wonder how that happens? Anyway, I spent an awful lot of time scampering back and forth across the trail. The humans walked about five miles. I probably did closer to seven. There was so much to look at and see as I scurried back and forth across the rail trail. Do I look blurry in this picture? That's because I was in near constant motion. Chipmunk on the right, bird on the left, field of clover on the right, and well, you get the point. It was a lot of fun.

At the half way point we stopped at a store called Traveling Rhinos and Friends. I was sipping my water when one of the humans went in to purchase something with a little more flavor. A few minutes later the shopkeeper appeared along with two small dogs. We did the usual "nice to meet you dance" (the dogs, not the humans). Before I knew it I was escorted into the nice air conditioned store. What a nice surprise.

Both dogs were rescue dogs. I was rather taken with Buster. His story was a sad one. The story I was told was that Buster never had the opportunity to play and interact with other dogs. His previous owner kept him locked up in a cat carrier for most of the day--every day--for four years. One day Buster finally had enough and didn't want to go into the cat carrier. He apparently bit his owner who then surrendered him to the shelter. Buster was labeled a vicious dog.

In the end, Buster was lucky: he found a new home that took him in, showed him lots of patience and love, and helped him have a life worth living. Buster is also lucky because he seems to have some extraordinary social skills. He approached me carefully and slowly. My human who is generally extremely cautious was extraordinarily so when we met because of Buster's story. Within fifteen seconds he had assessed the situation and relaxed. There were no signs of aggression and many calming signals: yawning, licking, turning head away, play bow, sniffing, walking slowly, and walking in a curve.

It's useful to know about these calming signals. It's even more useful to learn to recognize them in your dog as well as in other dogs. Once humans learn to have some skill at interpreting canine behaviors things go along a lot better. Anyway, for a dog that hasn't played with other dogs, we had an awful lot of fun. We rolled, played, and generally frolicked all around the air conditioned store.

Buster's humans took a leap of faith and demonstrated a great deal of compassion for him. He had been considered a dangerous dog: one that was very likely going to be euthanized. There are dogs out there that are dangerous. It's a serious problem, requiring serious attention. I don't know for sure what made these humans look at Buster differently. Perhaps the humans took the time to look at the facts.  Maybe they saw something deep inside the dog. It's unclear and that's really not all the important.

The humans demonstrated a great deal of compassion for Buster. In hearing his story, they were moved. They had some sort of emotional experience that was caused by the experience that Buster had. On the walk back to the car I got to thinking about the nature of compassion.

Compassion is at the heart of what many companion animals freely offer humans, yet do we ever really stop to wonder what compassion really is? Many comment that animals don't judge, offer unconditional love, and other such things. All that might be true, and all those are wonderful gifts, but none really represent the compassion that companion animals can offer a person. While no one knows for sure what goes on within our minds, a careful observer can notice how many animals respond to the suffering of others.

Over the first year of my life I've shown myself to be a dog that seeks out those who are suffering. Sometimes it's obvious, like when I'm rubbing tears off a face with my nose. Sometimes it is demanding when I'm pulling my human around Cambridge and "stumble" upon a person sitting alone on a park bench or huddled under a bridge.

Compassion is that which makes the heart of the good move at the pain of others. It crushes and destroys the pain of others; thus, it is called compassion. It is called compassion because it shelters and embraces the distressed. --The Buddha

While I'm just a small dog, might I add one thought? Compassion is a word with direction. As quoted above, in the presence of pain experienced by another being, compassion moves the heart to hold and shelter the distressed.  I think the Buddha might have forgotten to say something. Compassion also transports you from where you are to somewhere else. Compassion can shine like the light at the end of the tunnel and draw you to a place you hadn't known existed.

Just ask Buster.

On Manners and Meeting New Friends

Well that was scary!

I was walking along the side of the reservoir this evening sniffing some greenery. There are crickets living amongst the flora and I find them to be the most curious thing. The quiet was disrupted by a rather large dog that came barreling around the corner. The young man walking the dog was saying "heel" but said dog was clearly not paying attention.

I was excited at first. Most of my experiences with other canines have been positive. I wagged my tail, put my head down low, and avoided direct eye contact. It's my usual way of making a friendly introduction with a new dog.

While I was making preparations to say hello a woman suddenly came from the other direction with two large dogs on a tandem leash. She was struggling and appeared to not be in control of her dogs and the young man was struggling and appeared to not be in control of his dog.

It was at that moment that both I and the human knew that trouble was brewing.

It happened very quickly. The human first paid attention to the woman with the two large dogs. To her credit, she was aware she wasn't able to control her dogs and she was walking into a difficult situation: she went around a corner with her dogs and down a hill. The young man with the Boxer decided they were going to meet us with my human turned in the other direction and kept approaching.

With the human's back exposed, I felt that I clearly needed to protect him from the Boxer coming toward us. The human turned back to me as I was moving from play position to a protective posture. What follows takes awhile to explain but in reality took up about five seconds of time.

The hair in the center of my back from the nape of my neck to the base of my tail stood up in a mohawk. The dog lunged, lurched, and leaped toward me and the human. The Boxer wasn't paying attention to me and what I was communicating. My hair was up, which is a sign suggesting that it's not a good time to play. I was looking to the side and licking my lips which is a sign that I'm trying to calm myself and the other dog. Think of it like this, when I do that I'm saying: "hey, leave me alone, I'm not a threat because I'm not looking at you but can't you see my hair, if you keep coming there is going to be trouble."

Well the boxer kept barreling toward us and the young man was being dragged along. In a split second the boxer came directly toward my face. He growled while continuing to approach. I turned and fixed my stare directly on him and snarled. He still did not stop and when he was inches away from my nose I snapped but did not bite.

While all this was going on the human pivoted between me and the boxer, and shouted in a friendly voice "hey big puppy" just as I snapped a warning at the dog. The human said "focus" and I immediately moved from the boxer to him (this happened thanks to practicing this command thousands of times). The human put himself between the two of us because he knew I was attempting to protect him, he read the dog as being out of control but not aggressive, and wanted to startle the other dog to try to distract him off his approach.

Unlike the young man with the boxer, my human did not pull hard on my leash. The boxer was choking on his pinch collar, which was likely raising his anxiety levels. It wouldn't do any good to pull on my leash because I wear a harness, not a pinch collar. Well that plus my human knows that a good way to increase the probability of a problem when dogs are meeting is to tug hard on a leash or communicate anxiety to the dog.

As soon as my focus shifted the human said "follow me." (I don't heel, by the way, the human believes in taking turns--sometimes he leads, sometimes I lead). When he says follow me he always means business: it's time for me to stop sniffing and exploring and walk quickly and quietly by his side. He walked away from the other dog at an right angle from the direction in which he was approaching. He was calm yet quick.

Big crisis was averted. Don't you think?

So what's the message here? Humans needs to be keenly aware of how their dogs communicate, and have a working knowledge of some of the basic ways other dogs communicate. With that knowledge, humans need to be paying attention and reading the situation when dogs meet for the first time.

This dog wasn't coming to me to politely shake my hand and ask me if I'd like to play. He looked like he was going to rough me up, or rough my human up, and I didn't like that. In all likelihood he probably just did not learn proper social skills as a puppy and doesn't know how to make friends.

I read the signs and was moving to protect my human and myself. My human read the signs and knew that there was danger brewing. If he hadn't been paying attention there could have been a bite, a fight, or worse. Even with his careful attention the situation could have ended poorly. He made a calculated decision to change the dynamic by getting between us. He trusted our developing bond and hoped that he could get my focus and lead me away.

What's a dog owner to do? It's not enough to teach your dog to sit, stay, and come. I hear lots of folks are doing this at home by reading books and watching TV shows. It's a start, mind you, but not enough.

Too many dogs are out there pulling their owners around and lacking in canine social skills. Take your puppy to a good puppy class. From an early age, a puppy class is a great opportunity for dogs to get feedback from other dogs and learn how to communicate in dog. Watch puppies and dogs as they interact and socialize. Learn to read a dog's body language as it relates to lots of different contexts. Keep your eyes out for experienced dog handlers--watch how they interact with groups of dogs. Ask lots of questions.

And please, don't ever let your dog meet another dog without first asking if it was okay. Had this young man with the boxer done this basic step, this whole situation would have been averted. The human would not have had his back turned, he would have already asked me to sit, and he would have asked the young man to stay at a distance. When given a choice, my human never lets me meet new dogs that have owners who are not paying attention and in control of the situation.

Electricity: It's not for puppies

Well that was a scare. I thought I would have myself a little break today. I went into my breakroom (the corner of the office, tell Jason to get me a real space) and settled down. This silver cord was way to interesting. I started to chew and within a second, zap! I yelped quietly and moved away slowly.

This is clearly not safe for puppies. Just because you think you are paying close attention does not mean you actually are. Have you made your house puppy proof?