A Profound Metaphor of Significant Significance (but mainly dog training)

My dad came over this morning to do something mysterious to my stereo to make the classical station in Hutch come in more clearly. (And by "mysterious," I mean he stuck a piece of flexible, rubber-coated wire in the antenna port. The wire has a name, but I've already forgotten. Dad would want me to tell you that you should NEVER attach a wire coat hanger to your stereo. Not that I would ever consider that. Ahem.)

So, knowing that we were about to have company, I did what I always do to make Brewster more comfortable with visitors. The dogs got their harnesses on, and we went out for a mini-walk so we could meet Dad outside. Brewster is much happier to meet people outside on neutral ground than to have them come into his house. Bertie is always happy to meet new people so she runs up first to perform her official function as the Chez Furry Pants Welcoming Committee. (Obviously this special service is only for guests we already know are dog people and won't mind slobbery dog tongue.) Then in theory Brewster and I follow, Brewster gets to meet the guest if he's feeling brave enough, and then we follow the guest into the house so Brew doesn't feel like he's being chased. 

When Dad came by a couple of weeks ago, we did not do this very well. Or rather, I did not do it very well. Bertie ran up to Dad, and I held Brewster back to see how he would react. In the process of holding him back, I pulled back on his leash, putting tension on it. And there was the mistake.

The amount of tension on the leash makes a huge difference in how Brew reacts. When his harness is tight around his chest, he lunges forward and wants to attack. When there is no tension he almost literally seems like a different dog, a bit nervous and timid, but in no way aggressive or threatening. This is not just a Brewster thing. I learned in an obedience class that all dogs respond to tension in the leash by becoming tense themselves. Understanding this basic little factoid was what made it possible to successfully introduce Brewster to Bertie Sue way back when. 

So at Dad's last visit, when Brewster felt the tension in the leash, it caused tension in him, and he wanted to lunge forward. I knew that I was causing the problem, but I couldn't make myself stop doing it. I knew if I released the tension, he would charge up at Dad for just a second, and the image of snarling Brewster was just too much. I wound up holding Brewster the entire time Dad was at the house, afraid to put him down.

Today I was determined to do better--not that Brewster would do better, that I would do better. When Bert ran up to give Dad his hello kisses, Brewster and I kept right on coming. Brewster tried to pull forward, but I kept coming, too, so the leash was slack. And I swear to you I saw this thought bubble forming over Brewster's head: "You aren't going to pull me back? You mean I could actually run up and bite him if I want to? Um . . . I think I'll go check out this piece of grass over here. Here's a rock that needs to be sniffed. This dandelion must be peed on immediately." And Brewster spent the rest of the visit ignoring Dad entirely, which is fine because Bertie Sue hands out enough luvins for four dogs. I promise, no one has ever felt neglected since Bert came to live here.

Hence, today's moral. You've heard the saying that life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it, or something like that. So it is with dog training: The trick to improving a dog's behavior often lies in the handler's willingness to change his or her own behavior. Brewster didn't do a single thing differently at today's visit versus what he did two weeks ago. I was the one who changed my technique to get different results. And, whereas two weeks ago, I spent my time restraining an angry little demon dog, today I spent my time reassuring a nervous but generally calm and certainly not dangerous sweet little angel of whom I am very proud. Worth it.

Dog People

When we humans go to school, our teachers set standards and we have to meet them. We have to memorize spelling words, learn algebraic equations, and understand comma splices. When Brewster goes to school all he has to do is eat.

That's not as simple as it sounds. He is not what dog trainers call "food motivated" in the first place. If there's the least bit of stress or distraction, the treats have to be really special to even get his attention. (Think meat like chicken or hot dog. If it would make a vegetarian cringe, it will make a good Brewster treat.) And he has never, ever accepted a treat from a stranger. He had to meet Susan, his groomer, three times before he was willing to take a treat out of her hand. But tonight, a half-hour into class, he ate out of the trainer's hand, and I was so proud I almost cried. Really.

Now of course he didn't just bop up to the trainer, tail in the air, and say, "Hey, dude, how 'bout hooking a puppy up with some of that chicken-flavored nom nom?" Brewster's success was entirely due to the trainers' patience, something the average person usually isn't willing to show with a dog like Brewster. Living with Brew has taught me how to recognize real dog people and how to be a real dog person myself. A real dog person isn't someone who says, "I'm great with dogs!" or "All dogs love me!" A real dog person knows that, just as not all people like all other people, not all dogs will like all people. (And dog people don't hold that against the dog.) A real dog person knows that dogs are not psychic and cannot just "sense" good intentions. And a real dog person knows that dogs cannot speak English and that Dr. Dolittle is a work of fiction.

Tonight, Brewster and I got to hang out with real dog people. Three of the four trainers who teach our class moved in and out of our "pod," talking quietly with me and never making eye contact with Brewster. None of them moved in to try to pet him or call him to them. No one insisted that Brewster interact. Instead they sat down a few feet away, and every once in a while a bit of treat got tossed in Brew's direction. Slowly Brew got closer and closer to the trainer, and in one case Brewster ate treats off the trainer's leg and then out of his hand. How I wish I'd had my camera because no parent watching a human child learning to walk could feel more pride than I did watching my little bitty dog eat a bit of treat.

We also learned a couple of new tricks to work on this week: In "Touch," the object is for the dog to touch his nose to your hand. It's a method of drawing the dog's attention away from something disruptive and back to you. We also learned "Spin," which, as far as I can tell, is just to give the human a good laugh. I may have to borrow a video camera for that one.

I don't know about Brewster, but I can't wait for next week when we get to hang out with the real dog people again.

Yes, this is the same picture from last week. The cute-factor far outweighs the repetitiveness.

Brew's New Friend (in which Brewster keeps his tail up)

At the risk of damaging Brewster's burgeoning celebrity with the overexposure of two blog posts in less than 24 hours, I want to send a public thank you to Brewster's new good friend, Susan Cascio, who runs In the Neighborhood Dog Grooming.

Brewster has been going to Rags to Ribbons in Valley Center for several months, and I thought that was about as good a grooming experience as we were likely to get for him. At least I knew that the groomers were kind, even though the environment was loud and there were other dogs around that stressed him out. But after I posted about my terrible experience at Pet Haven and happened to mention that Brewster gets his grooming at Rags to Ribbons, Susan contacted me to let me know that she might have a better situation.

And oh boy is it better!

I should stop right here and say that I have no complaints about Rags to Ribbons. As I said, the groomers are kind and they've always treated Brewster very well. But for a puppybutt like Brewster, walking into that frenetic environment of barking dogs, loud blow dryers, and ringing phones couldn't help but be terrifying. The last time we went, he refused to walk in by himself. I had to pick him up and carry him in, and he's not that frightened even at the vet.

Susan runs her shop out of the back of her home in the Riverside neighborhood. She schedules specific appointments so there's never more than one dog in the shop at a time, and she does everything she can to make the environment soothing, even down to lavender aromatherapy and quiet music that drowns out outside noises. And for all the extra care she puts into creating a quiet environment that focuses on one dog at a time, her prices are the same or lower than most other shops in the neighborhood, including Rags to Ribbons. How could I not give her shop a try?

So for the last month, Brewster has been participating in Susan's puppy training program. The program is designed to get puppies used to being groomed in the least traumatic way possible, but it's done wonders for 6-year-old Brewster, too. We started with a 15-minute appointment, followed by a second 15-minute appointment the next week. During those appointments, Susan got Brewster used to being in the shop without actually doing any grooming. He got to sniff around, check out the clippers without actually having them used on him, and even examine the bathtub with no water in it. Since the appointments were very short, he learned that even when I left, I would be right back. Today we went back for the final "training" appointment, a 30-minute appointment that included a real bath.

And, people, when Brewster walked into the shop this afternoon, his tail stayed up. He was nervous--he'll always be nervous--but he wasn't frightened. He sniffed around and happily accepted a treat from Susan as if she were an old friend. Which I guess is exactly what she is now.

So I want to publicly thank Susan, and let her know how much I appreciate the time she has spent learning how to work with nervous dogs like Brew. Now, instead of having to go to a stress-inducing grooming appointment, Brewster gets to hang out with his friend, Susan.

Thank you, Susan!

Looking fluffy after his bath.

   

"Hello. My Name is Brewster, and I'm Reactive."

First thing's first: I love my dog and if you talk shit on him I will send you a special care package straight from my backyard, 'kay?

But there might be a slim chance that he is maybe not the friendliest, nicest, sweetest dog to ever walk the earth. This is hard--really, really hard--for me to admit because to me he is the friendliest, nicest, sweetest, most loyal, funniest, looniest, smartest, most loving dog that I have ever met or hope to meet. But he does have this issue with strangers: No matter how kind and well-intentioned the person, Brewster is convinced that all strangers are evil, that his very life is in danger, and he responds accordingly. I don't know exactly why he thinks this, but it probably has something to do with his very earliest experiences as a puppy. (Pro Tip #1: The first three months of a puppy's life are crucial.) It probably also relates to his fearfulness resulting from having lived in a home where he was hit. (Pro Tip #2: Hitting with a rolled up newspaper or magazine is still hitting. It still hurts, and, worse, it causes absolute terror. If you doubt me, come over and watch Brewster's reaction when I wave a piece of paper anywhere in his vicinity. And if you can't be bothered to find a better way to train your dog [or your cat or your llama or your child] than to hit it, you might reconsider whether a pet is really for you.) 

Whatever the reason for Brewster's overreaction to strangers, it means that although he is the friendliest, nicest, sweetest, most loyal, funniest, looniest, smartest, and most loving dog I've ever met, he is not the happiest. He does not feel the safest. Since Brewster is my dog and I am Brewster's human, it's my responsibility to change that if I can. So tonight Brewster and I went to our first Reactive Dog Class at the Humane Society.

Can I tell you how much I love that it's called "Reactive Dog Class" instead of "Aggressive Dog Class"? A "reactive" dog is not a bad dog. He's just a dog who's reacting! Brewster isn't trying to be mean; as far as he can tell, his reactions are a perfectly reasonable response to those evil, malicious strangers who might try to hurt him. It's such a relief to be around people who understand that the best way to greet a frightened dog is to not greet him at all, that the greatest kindness they can show my dog is to ignore him.

The class is carefully controlled from the moment the students pull into the parking lot. The two instructors and two assistants are watching for us and as students arrive, we are escorted from our cars one by one so that the dogs can't interact with each other in the parking lot. In the room we are installed into our own "pods" created by makeshift walls of upended tables and towels. No dog can see any other dog. Of course they can smell and hear each other, but not being able to make eye contact helps keep aggression--sorry, reactivity--in check. Brewster spent about the first 10 minutes shaking so hard he looked like a drunk about five hours late for his next bottle, but he did settle eventually. I forgot to bring his favorite towel, so I spread my coat on the floor and targeted him to that. Having a specific place to sit always helps Brew feel better, and it's not like my coat didn't already smell like dog.     

One of the instructors brought her dog, Gracie, a terrier mix who is a bit fearful herself. Gracie showed us humans a thing or two about how to work with a reactive dog. First we learned "Turn! Turn! Turn!" to--you may have already figured this out--turn away from a stimulus that is frightening or aggravating. We also learned about how to encourage eye contact, and about "Good Look!" in which the human acknowledges that the dog has seen something that might be disturbing but has turned his attention back to the human. We also learned to play "Find It!" which even Brewster thought was pretty awesome. We'll be playing that one some more tomorrow.

All in all, it was a pretty successful class. It was well-organized and well-executed, and my fears that my dog might have a bad interaction with another dog are pretty much assuaged for the moment. I do wish they'd had a handout of all the skills we learned tonight. I could hardly take notes while managing Brewster, and I have the sneaking feeling that I've forgotten something important.

This post was supposed to end here, but unfortunately, now that we're home, our evening has not ended on a good note. While I was writing this, Brewster got sick, almost certainly the result of lots of excitement, too many treats, and too much water at once when he got home. That's fine. His tummy probably feels better now, and I am nothing if not expert at cleaning up various kinds of pet icks. (Pro Tip #3: Nature's Miracle really is a miracle.) The problem was Brewster's reaction. He tried to hide from me. When I came back into the office with the roll of paper towels in my hand, he dropped his tail and ran under the desk to get away from me, and I couldn't call him to me until I had cleaned up the mess and put the paper towels aside. That's because at one time he lived in a house where he got hit FOR GETTING SICK. He thinks that when he throws up he is going to be in trouble; that he's going to be hurt; that I, who have never shown the Little Dude anything but love and care, am going to hurt him. There's nothing I can do to make him forget that fear except get the sick cleaned up as fast as possible and put the paper towels aside and wait for him to come out from under the desk so I can love all over him and try to help him understand that I am not that kind of monster. But I don't know if he can understand that.

I am a worrier, and one of the things I worry about is that Brewster's original family will find us, that they'll see us out walking or stumble onto this blog. I worry that they'll see him and demand to have him back. But as I continue to live with Brewster, the less I worry and the more I hope that I will someday have a chance to confront the people who turned a very sweet little dog into a neurotic, fearful, reactive mess. I am glad for the chance to clean up their mess because the rewards are so great. I'd just love the chance to say a couple of things to their face.

Dog In Need of Space

I really love the article "My Dog Is Friendly! A Public Service Announcement" and thought about printing it out to take on walks to give to overly friendly people. But it's a little long, so I wrote my own little PSA, which fits on one page and has the advantage of being personalized for Brewster's situation and Wichita city codes.
 

Dear Neighbor,
My dog is a Dog In Need of Space (DINOS). Please do not approach or allow your children or your dog to approach my dog. It does not matter that you are "good with dogs" or that your dog doesn't bite. My dog is aggressive when he believes he is being attacked, and it isn't safe for you or your dog to approach without my approval. My dog is a good dog. He was rescued as a stray and his behavior makes it clear that he was dumped or ran away from an abusive home where he was hit often and never socialized to strange people or dogs. I have gone through formal obedience training with him, and continue to work with him, but no amount of training will ever make him comfortable around strangers of any species. Yet when he is properly introduced and has time to get to know a new person or dog, he is the friendliest, sweetest, most loving dog you'd ever want to meet.

Even though my dog is aggressive when he feels threatened, I do have the right to walk him in public as long as he is on leash and under my control. However, no dog owner has the right to allow a dog to run off leash outside of a fenced area. It is a violation of Wichita law (City Code 6.04.040a) to allow any animal other than a cat to roam free, even if it's in your own front yard. Furthermore, if a loose dog charges my dog and my dog bites, the loose dog's owner will probably be considered to be at fault under City Code 6.04.045b.2.ii because the loose dog will be considered to have provoked my dog. This applies even if the loose dog is "friendly" and "just wants to play."

That said, I will always do anything I can to prevent my dog hurting another. I am an animal lover (otherwise I wouldn't have adopted a special-needs dog!) and I don't want your dog or my dog to get hurt. I do my best to keep my dog out of dangerous situations and away from strange dogs and people while still giving him the daily exercise and enjoyment he deserves. Please help me keep your family and my dog safe by following the law and keeping your pets under control, and by teaching your children when and when not to approach a dog. Keep in mind that my dog is certainly not the only DINOS in the neighborhood. You should never approach or allow your children or your pet to approach any dog without the owner's express permission--and even then you should carefully assess the dog's body language for yourself before approaching. 

For more information on DINOS dogs, please visit http://notesfromadogwalker.com.