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| Eye contact |
One of life’s aggravations is that all too often things
happen in their own time and not when I think they should. Writing progress,
weight loss, getting from hither to yon on the freeway, you name it.
Dog training definitely fits in this category. Sometimes
they “get it” right away; you can see the lights go on in their eyes. Then they’re
delighted that things make sense. It must be frustrating to them to not
understand what we are asking them to do and why we are unhappy with them. I
think that’s why positive (reward-based) training works so well, because it
provides a way for us to tell the dog that he did what we wanted. Anything
besides the desired behavior -> no cookie, try again. Desired behavior ->
cookie! Happy dog -> let’s do it again! We’ve paired something we want the
dog to do with something wonderful. Complex behaviors can be broken down into component
parts and chained, with lots repetition so they become one flowing behavior.
Behaviors that are naturally part of the dog’s repertoire
are easier to train, especially if the dog offers them just by being a dog.
This requires patience and precise timing of the reward. Since it’s highly
unlikely we’ll be able to offer a treat within a second of the desired
behavior, we use a marker, like a clicker or “Yes!” that the dog has come to
associate with the reward. Then we have to set up a training environment in
which the dog has the choice to offer the behavior we want, or something close
to it that can be then shaped. For example, if we are training “Down,” instead
of luring the dog with a treat, we bring the dog into an enclosed space (so
there are some limitations on what the dog can do) and wait. And wait. And
wait. Until the dog lies down, which is then rewarded. Rinse and repeat. Usually,
the dog will soon begin lying down many
times in rapid succession. Then we add the cue word. It may take longer for the
initial connection, but once that’s made, the dogs joyfully perform the
behavior. It’s fun to watch dogs that have been trained this way. At the
beginning of a new session, they run through all the behaviors they’ve ever been
rewarded for, watching carefully for the trainer’s response. Often they’ve
learned how to try new things, the doggie version of being creative.
If we lure or place the dog into position, we get the
desired behavior right away, without having to stand there as neutrally as we
can while the dog tries this and that. However, the connection between the
behavior, say the Down, and the reward is not as clear for the dog. He thinks,
Am I being rewarded for sniffing the treat? For extending my head? For having
the trainer’s hand on my back? Or for lying down?
All this has to do with connections we want the dog to make:
“Down” cue + Down behavior -> Yes! + cookie. What if we want to break a connection
the dog has already made?
In the case of Tajji, our retired seeing eye dog, she had
become traumatized during her work, especially to the presence of other dogs.
Small dogs elicited the most reactivity in her. We began desensitizing her as
soon as she came to live with us, nearly a year and a half ago. We had to teach
her the marker (we use “Yes!” because it
leaves hands free), eye contact, and relaxation/focus exercises that help her
to “get her brain back into gear” when she’s overloaded. We worked with a trainer,
Sandi Pensinger of Living With Dogs, whose “Reactive Rover” classes gave Tajji safe
exposures to other dogs. Over the course of the class and practice sessions,
Tajji made slow improvement. Most of what happened was us learning how to read
her (very subtle) signals of distress and to train ourselves in appropriate
responses.
Tajji had learned that other dogs meant bad things,
especially bad-scary things because she was in working harness and was not
permitted to respond appropriately to aggressive behavior. In addition, she
worked for 3 years with a fractured tooth, so she was in pain. Little dogs
became firmly associated with pain, being vulnerable, and doubtless her owner
being angry with her. We had our work cut out for use to undo that association
and teach her that she was safe with us.
Our first goal was for her to be able to look at another dog
at a distance, without barking or lunging. We had lots of practice in Sandi’s
class, in a controlled environment, a soccer field where the other dog could be
waaaay far and with visual blinds. We didn’t do many neighborhood walks because
there are lots of dogs, both being walked and behind fences, and many places
where it isn’t easy to “Get Out of Dodge.” We did find a place to go hiking
with her, a private property where we had permission to do so with her on
leash.
Eventually, the practice sessions ended. Tajji had had a
number of successes, meaning looking at a small dog at decreasing distances. We
began to think, though, that especially since she is elderly and doesn’t need a
lot of exercise, we might confine her to the yard (1/3 acre, fenced) and our
hiking place. But as time went on, we decided to try neighborhood walks again,
choosing early morning hours. Some of these outings were uneventful, and that
gave us hope.
Tajji clearly loves the opportunity to smell lots of new
things, something she never did while working. She used to have a game of “refusing
the harness” – we use a soft front-clip harness – romping and evading us for
some time before allowing us to put it on her. These romps got shorter and
shorter, until she would see the harness and run to the back door, tail
wagging. This happened even after walks when we had “near encounters” with
other dogs. All this time, we kept practicing the desensitization and
relaxation skills.
A couple of things happened, including seeing a dog at the
end of the block and turning briskly around or seeing a miniature horse being
walked or encountering joggers. One was that a small dog near the corner got
loose and rushed at Tajji. Dave, who was walking her, dropped her leash because
being restrained makes any dog much more reactive. The dog raced up to Tajji,
barking furiously, they tussled, she rolled the dog on its back, the dog ran
away, and she came back to Dave, looking immensely pleased with herself. This
incident – in which she was able to handle the stressful situation, and with
excellent bite inhibition – seemed to give her more confidence.
Another thing was a series of calm visual encounters at long
distances in which Tajji looked where we pointed (“Look at that!”) while being
treated. Or a dog in a yard would rush the fence, barking, Tajji would react,
we would “Get Out of Dodge” and then calm down. The distance we’d have to run
got shorter, so that Tajji would be doing her focus exercises, eyes on me,
while the other dog was still barking. Finally, we’ve had several occasions of
being able to look calmly at a small dog, then look to me or Dave for a reward.
In other words, we have been able to replace one response with another, desired
one. The new scheme is Scary Dog -> look at Mom –> “Yes!” + treat.
This progress – and it is progress, not perfection – took time.
Lots and lots of time. Lots and lots of repetitions. In fact, way longer and
way more than seemed at all reasonable. We were ready to give up and just keep
her beside us, where she prefers to be. But in her slow doggie fashion. Tajji
was unlearning and relearning. Just the way dogs work better with occasional
rewards, we humans need a hint now and again that our efforts are paying off.
Now that we’ve had some evidence, we’re motivated to keep practicing.
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