A Puppy & A Plan

Have You Seen My Blog?

2010-04-20T01:28:00.002-04:00

This is a Laev-specific blog, for the most part; I occasionally post other topics here but I try to limit such. I have a newish blog at http://blog.caninesinaction.com where we publish general training tips, soapboxes, anecdotes, interesting stuff we find, and more. Feel free to stop by if you haven't seen it!

Laev Throws Me a Bone

2010-04-20T01:25:00.001-04:00

I was sorely tempted to skip Schutzhund practice tonight, after my last post, but I went. And it was a good thing I did.

(Long post, so here's the summary -- 300 Peck rocks, Laev nearly breaks my neck, and I am happy about it all.)

I cut up 3 hot dogs to use on the field. I'm not a big fan of hot dogs -- I don't like the smell or the texture -- but they do count as high value rewards in Laev's book, and I was starting fresh. Some of my very first Schutzhund research included a Gottfried Dildei tape in which he conditioned dogs to love the training field by simply walking them onto it and feeding hot dogs, until they were rabid field addicts. Say "classical conditioning" all you want, I couldn't quite bring myself to throw hot dogs for free :) but I had another plan.

(After all, Bob Bailey tells me that Pavlov is always on my shoulder -- so any wiener-intensive activity would have the same conditioning effect.)

After my NRM article came out this month, I received an email asking about building duration in heeling without using an NRM. I recommended the "300 Peck" program. At ClickerExpo a few weeks ago, I heard Alexandra Kurland explain 300 Peck more accurately than what is often bandied about on the internet. (The name "300 Peck" comes from experiments training a pigeon to peck a lever 300 times for a single reinforcer.) Her version is very useful for training duration -- or, in my case, re-training. I opted to try it tonight.

So I started toward the field, set up, and waited for Laev to give me attention. (I could have asked for attention, in normal training, but one of my goals tonight was to see what Laev was capable of gathering and offering me without any extra prompting.) When she put herself in heel position, cued by my posture, I cued "heel" and took a single step before halting. Laev moved with me and sat. I gave her a bit of hot dog.

Next, two steps and halt. Treat. Three steps and halt. Treat. Four steps, halt, treat, and then when I was shooting for five steps, she glanced away from me to look at another team nearby. Looking away is not a part of correct heeling behavior (we train for eyes-up, attentive work), and so I simply stopped and stepped back a bit. Laev realized she was not only out of position, but had missed her opportunity, and she flung herself back at heel with a sharp bark of frustration. I cued "heel" again and made it our five steps.

(The most common misrepresentation of 300 Peck is that when the learner makes a mistake, the trainer begins again at the count of one -- and this actually reinforces errors by making it easier to earn reinforcement after failure! Instead, I simply started where we'd left off; Laev had successfully completed four steps but failed with five, and so I reset and asked for five steps again, not one.)

Laev didn't make another mistake while entering the field, and then I stopped 300 Peck and doodled for a moment with simple things. When I took her to the setup for the heelwork down the center of the field -- the gunfire danger zone -- I restarted 300 Peck with a single step. Here Laev was a bit conflicted; she was quite vocal, barking sharply if she made a mistake and occasionally just for the heck of it, and there was even some intermittent whining. I ignored all the vocalization; I know it's just a symptom and not worth addressing. It will vanish if I fix the real problem. Still, with all that, she stayed focused and intense in her work. Between reps, she glanced away and sometimes seemed to have a hard time refocusing; I let her work through her own conflict, refusing to prompt or help her. I wanted a baseline, and I'd rather not have her rely on outside help I can't give later. And she always managed to pull herself back to me, giving me attention so I could cue the heel again (and thus reinforce the attention).

As I recall, in the original pigeon experiments, researchers noted that as the ratios became longer (say, 200 pecks for a single feed instead of ten pecks), the pigeons took longer to initiate the behavior (procrastinated) but then worked intensely once they'd started. This was very like what I saw with Laev; her ratios were much smaller, but the challenge was greater at center field than at the side, and she delayed probably 5-8 seconds at her worst there. Once she turned her head back to me, however, she worked well.

Several times I took a break, doodled, and then restarted at lower ratios. We got as high as 20 steps of correct, intense heeling for a single bit of hot dog tonight, a feat I think we achieved thrice. That's not very impressive when I recall that she did about 500 steps of heeling for her BH on this field, but it's an order of magnitude better than Saturday's session, where she simply shut down in the middle of the field and told me she'd rather not play, thank you. So I think we'll be sticking with this plan for a while. We might not ever add the gunfire again, but maybe I can at least get our old level of performance back.

So it was a good session already, even if we'd quit there, but I stayed on for bitework.

I'm trying to give prime training time to the dogs who are actually trialing in a couple of weeks (I have a schedule conflict, which is why we're not doing tracking or protection titles instead of a full Schutzhund title attempt). So Laev went last tonight, and I asked the helper to give her suit bites, something we're playing with as I consider other sports. Laev gets a bit hot on the jacket, as it's a different type of fight than on a sleeve, and when she was glowing in the Tolkienesque forge-fires of glorious battle, my helper suggested teaching her the ringsport Defense of Handler.

The complete exercise is this: The dog and handler heel forward and encounter a couple of decoys, one of whom greets the handler and shakes hands. They move on, and the handler cues the dog to heel backward and keep an eye on the suspicious characters. One of the decoys sneaks up behind the handler and strikes him, and the dog is to bite in defense. Key points are, the dog may NOT bite the non-threatening decoy as he shakes hands, waves his arms, etc., and the dog may NOT bite before the handler is struck, even if he sees the decoy coming.

Laev doesn't know how to heel backward (well, actually, she has a lovely heel in reverse as I walk backward, but she doesn't know how to heel facing the rear as I travel forward), so we started her just in a sit facing backward. The helper (R---) came up behind me, raised his arms, and then struck me with both hands. I shouted, and Laev launched in a gorgeous black-and-mahogany fireball of avenging fury. It was perfect.

Except for the fact that Laev logically went for R's arm on my back. And en route, she grasped a large hank of my long hair. So as she stuck the decoy and knocked him backward, fighting furiously, she yanked me around rather violently by the neck.

Once I got free, I teamed up with Laev to beat on the helper for a bit :) and then collected her for another try. Laev grasped the game very quickly. On her third or fourth rep, she tried moving early when R started sneaking, but he simply stepped backward and I just blocked her with the leash so that she couldn't reach him, and we reset. It was an honest question -- "what's the actual cue for biting, the approach or the hitting?" -- and she did not make the mistake again. We did it probably 8 times or so, I didn't count, and the last time R tried to psych her out with some feints toward me, and she remained coiled like a cobra until he made contact with me. Good girl! and we both had a lot of fun.

That was it for the night, and we packed up and started home. It wasn't until the drive home that I realized how much I hurt from getting yanked in a downward spiral by my head -- and that was only a half-hour later. I am gonna HURT tomorrow!

But, even if I do, it was worth it -- we had a good obedience session and a rip-roarin' bitework session. Laev will be easier to live with for the next couple of days, and I saw some progress toward regaining what we'd had. Yay!

Disappointment, and Reevaluating the Dream

2010-04-17T19:39:00.002-04:00

It's been coming on gradually, but this weekend I finally said it aloud -- I'm not sure I'm ever going to title Laev in Schutzhund.

This is really rough for me. I bought Laev (the first dog I've ever purchased, as opposed to adopted from a shelter or rescue group or off the street) specifically for her genetics, developed specifically for this sport. We started sport-training at 8 weeks old and have never stopped, except for the occasional time off for a minor injury or such. I've worked hard on this, sacrificed other activities to make training time, etc.

But we're just not beating this gunfire thing, and without that, nothing else matters.

It's not that we've made no progress at all. My theory was that what was learned (Laev didn't show any trouble with gunfire until age 2, and no serious trouble until 3) could be unlearned, and I started desensitization. Our low point was a shaking, whining, drooling dog; our high point was Laev heeling beside me while I fired a cap gun in my right hand, without losing her. So we have definitely seen progress.

But it's not steadily-forward progress; hunting season and the neighbor's target practice started again soon after the aforementioned high point, and we backslid horribly. There are a lot of chemical processes attached to this kind of sensitized emotional reaction which we've only barely begun to understand (see Mr. Hooper's Sketch for a great essay on this) and a major complication is the fact that I don't know when neighbors might practice, which means I'm not always prepared or even aware that my dog is being exposed to her trigger without any counter-conditioning whatsoever.

The locals use a variety of guns, including some big ones, and they may shoot for a few minutes or a couple of hours. Some of you may recall that I once came home to find my kennel empty with a hole through its roof and blood smears on my front door, with my panicked dog in hiding. No desensitization program can stand up to that kind of intermittent experience among the positive associations.

Saturday I was sitting on the edge of the training field, watching other dogs work while Laev relaxed in the car, when someone started firing in the distance. I had just been talking about Laev's progress and backsliding, describing how her relaxation protocol had enabled us to achieve long downs again in the "scary" part of the field, but how we couldn't pull off heeling and relaxation (involving matwork) at the same time, and so her obedience work in center field was still abysmal even though she hadn't heard gunfire there for a year. I went back to the car when the shots started (probably someone practicing or hunting coyotes) and took Laev out. She seemed relatively calm, and I started asking her for basics, but after a moment she began to whine and then fall apart. I moved to one side and asked her to down, and she immediately went chin-down (part of her relaxation series) and calmed. Good news: the relaxation protocol does work, and she will choose it if she has a chance. Bad news: it still only works in a down. She hopped back into her crate and was fine.

That's how it always is; that's how it took me so long to recognize a gunfire problem when it began to develop. Laev doesn't bolt at the first sound of gunfire if we're working; she tries to keep working through it, with the most subtle stress indicators I've ever seen, until it finally reaches her threshold and she explodes in either running or freakish barking, jumping, and general physical displacement. (Her initial stress signs really are subtle; people have told me she's not stressed at all, that I'm just imagining things, and then seconds later she's bolted.) So it may be a good ten or twenty seconds between the shot and her apparent reaction, but it's the gunshot which caused it.

Laev is otherwise nearly fearless; she shows a modicum of common sense regarding snakes and larger animals like horses, but she barely blinks at most things which typically alarm her species (I once caught her turning on the vacuum cleaner as a puppy so she could play with it, and the occasional attempt of an uneducated houseguest to intimidate her into compliance results in Laev blissfully continuing to do as she wants). While working on this issue, I tested other types of noise, filling a steel bucket with chains and asking others to rattle and bang them obnoxiously all around us as we heeled. No sweat; she never took her eyes off mine. And recorded gunfire has no effect, either; only the real thing matters.

(I have found a drug which, if given in time, will abate her more panicked reactions -- but even aside from the ethical issues of trialing a drugged dog, I'm not sure that it doesn't interfere with her ability to do the work of tracking, obedience, protection. So it's not a solution.)

Laev has so many good points, and her /cough/ less-stellar qualities have been so good for me as a trainer. But this, this is killing us. If she can't hold steady during gunfire, she is disqualified from obedience and the entire trial, as happened to us last time. We've put a lot of work into her protection behaviors, and we've gotten a lot of good comments on her bitework. When I started with Laev, I didn't know many clicker bitework trainers, and I won't pretend that what we made up as we went along (some of it unique to us, as far as I know) was always the best choice -- but I am personally proud of what we've done, and I do believe that we have some good training among the mistakes. And I'll never get to show it, because unless she holds steady during gunfire in obedience, she can't even enter the protection phase.

I'm not retiring her. Ye gads, Laev is only 5, and she would never be happy to be just a pet dog! And I don't want to drop protection sports entirely, as she adores the training. I'm going to keep doing Schutzhund club training, and I'm going to shop around for other venues where we can use our skills.

When I started this blog, I gave it the subtitle: "A professional dog trainer raises a puppy with lofty working goals.... At least, that's Plan A. But anything can happen." That seems rather bitterly appropriate now. Plan A was to get her BH and then title, and even when we had /cough/ BH issues I still fully intended to train on through Schutzhund 3. Now, I don't know what the plan is. Still exploring....

Clever Dog?

2010-03-13T23:24:00.002-05:00

So tonight I sent Shakespeare to fetch a dinner bucket, as I often do. We feed the dogs in steel pails. Both Shakespeare and Laev will retrieve buckets when necessary; Inky will happily carry her bucket full of food to a more private dining area, but she as yet has no idea that it can also travel empty. That's Inky....

As I needed three buckets and he can't manage more than one at a time, I followed Shakespeare down to where we'd fed last night. This is how I saw him trot into the bedroom and pick up the small pail in which he'd had his dinner the night before. He dropped it, though, and turned to Laev's larger pail, picking it up and carrying it all the way back to the kitchen.

I really can't say that I know he was consciously thinking of deliberately retrieving the pail which could hold more, but it was quite amusing to watch.

While we were filling the buckets, the dogs were to lie down in the kitchen and wait. Shakespeare briefly broke his down to reach for an abandoned chew which Laev had carried out of her crate -- she was happy to drop it for the prospect of dinner -- and immediately lay down again with the chew beneath his paw for safekeeping. Now THAT was deliberate...!

Unstoppable - A Good Night of Training

2010-01-12T05:08:00.003-05:00

I've stayed up waaaaay too late tonight editing video, but I did want to post this....

Because of weather, we trained in the barn again tonight. It's a big, unheated building, full of stored.. stuff. Our training director likes to challenge the dogs when we get stuck indoors for weather, and it's one of Laev's favorite things. Mine, too, though I don't do much except watch.

Laev worked twice tonight, and the first time I sent her to the far side of the barn, where the helper fled over piles of boards and gear during her hold and bark and then smacked an empty plastic gasoline jug about and across her as she gripped the sleeve. She did pretty well there. But the second time, they set up quite the course for her -- she ran for a hold and bark, and then the helper backed her over crates, chairs, a collapsed ladder which bounced under them, two kayaks, and a flatbed trailer, while he blocked or hit her with bite pants, a bite jacket, a plastic bucket lid over the head, and an umbrella popping in her face and then waved over them both. Laev stuck right to him, without me behind her or ever speaking, and never took the loose equipment over the helper. They ended wedged in a tight corner where there wasn't even enough room to safely slip the sleeve and I had to come and fetch her. I was quite pleased. Then we sent her to the far end of the barn again, where he'd stacked sheets of plywood so that he could kick them while Laev held him, knocking her footing from beneath her and scooting her around. She never even looked down.

"Nothing fazes her," said a club member, and while that's not quite true -- we're still working on the gunshot issue -- it's nice to know that I did something right. Laev truly believes that if she does her job, it will eventually pay off. (I'm also pleased because this was only Laev's second session after a long hiatus, and she has worked totally clean despite her enthusiasm at returning.)

Laev loves this stuff, and I love watching it and love that Laev loves it. And I have a sneaking suspicion my helper enjoys it, too. :-)

Dog Bite Fatalities 2009

2010-01-07T22:21:00.002-05:00

This is so important, it needs its own post.

http://btoellner.typepad.com/kcdogblog/2010/01/2009-dog-bite-fatalities-final-report.html

This is a review of the fatal dog attacks of 2009 and their data -- the breeds involved (16 breeds in 32 incidents), the common circumstances, and what we can learn from them for preventing other tragedies.

Read it, and see that your legislator reads it, too.

TAG! I'm it!

2009-12-31T01:57:00.001-05:00

It is said, and rightly so, that instructors should continue to learn unfamiliar things so that they stay empathetic with their struggling students. This week, I learned to ski.

I had been skiing before. My first experience with the sport was in college, when my roommate and I (both ski-virgins) were taken to the slopes by our respective boyfriends, both experienced skiers. To be specific, my boyfriend grew up at 8,000 ft and started working Ski Patrol as a teen. This wasn't exactly a good starting match.

Jamie and I signed up for a lesson while the boys went off on their own. We found that we were the only members of the ski class over the age of 8, and our male instructor was apparently greatly intimidated by having two females of his age in his group. He coped by pretending we didn't exist, speaking only to the children, ignoring our questions, and never making eye contact with us. Jamie and I finally reconciled ourselves to eavesdropping on his directions to the kids and copying them ourselves. When our hour or two was up, we met the guys and went to apply what we'd learned.

It was disaster for me. I tumbled down the hill time and time again, knocking myself hard in the head. (This was before ski helmets were as popular as now.) Once, Jon followed me down the slope and watched me splat across the hill. As I blearily reoriented, Jon sped up and hockey-stopped inches from my face, spraying snow over me and laughing.

Yeah. I did not learn much that trip.

I went skiing once or twice more, with Jon's family of avid skiers (I did marry the guy despite the ski incident), but I never really progressed beyond managing to stay upright on the bunny hill. This year, however, Jon's parents decided that their Christmas gift to their kids would be a ski trip, and so off we went to the slopes.

Jon's parents are nice people, but we don't always speak the same language. "You make a pizza pie," his father (another former Ski Patrolman) explained, "and then your left ski is cheese and your right ski is pepperoni, and you keep saying cheese and pepperoni as you go downhill." Uh huh. I had a sneaking suspicion that I could scream "cheese and pepperoni!" repeatedly and ineffectively as I bounced head over heels, scattering skis and gloves and goggles to the winds.

But I had a plan. Last year I went ice skating for the first time, with a former figure skater friend who gave me instruction. As she explained what I needed to do, I translated her words into TAGpoints in my head, verified them with her, and then tried to apply them. The result was that I learned in a few skating sessions far more than I'd expected and surprised her as well, I think -- not that I was anywhere close to accomplished! But I was proud of what I'd learned. I wanted to do the same on this ski trip.

So I began translating, occasionally asking Jon for clarification. "Pizza pie" became "inner wedge" in my head (form a triangle with the skis, weight on the inner edges). I dropped the "cheese and pepperoni" metaphor for the image of pressing one heel downhill and then the other to start gradual turns. "Ski with your feet" became "knees over toes."

The pizza metaphor is apparently a popular one in ski instruction, because I heard it screamed every time a novice blitzed past en route to a tumble or narrow escape. "Pizza! Pizza!" a parent or helpful friend would shout after them. "Don't lean forward. Don't lean. Turn. Turn! TURN!" Me, I was chanting my personal TAGpoints consciously and constantly. "Knees over toes, knees over toes, knees over toes!" This kept me upright, at least, and I started making at least a bit of distance between falls. Then my coaches determined that I'd graduated to more challenging slopes, and "take the slope out of the mountain so you don't gain so much speed" became "ski horizontal (across the slope)." I started to stay upright on whole green runs. And then, "Face down the mountain so they can take your picture" became "chest downhill."

I tumbled down the mountain and landed splayed and laughing. "I get it!" I called uphill to Jon. "This is supposed to happen!"

Jon skied down to me. "Increased criteria means a temporary drop in performance?"

"Yep! See, when I know why this happens and that it's even supposed to happen, it's not frustrating!"

Yeah, we've both come a long way since that first ski lesson.

We reached the bottom of the slope and got in line for the lift. Jon's dad helpfully advised, "You want to keep the weight off your uphill ski when you turn, because that's what's slowing your turn. You need to face downward and push harder into the boots, and just keep it tucked in. The angulation of the ski's edge to the snow is inversely related to the cosine of the Fibonacci number sequence...."

I started to lose track. "What does keep it tucked in mean?"

"Don't worry about it," Jon interrupted.

"Knees over toes?"

"Knees over toes."

"I want you to TAG me," I told Jon. "Just watch me and say a short 'yes' when I've got 'chest downhill.'" And on the next run, he skied backwards a short distance from me (a skill I'd previously found infuriating) and tagged -- or didn't -- with each turn I made. I think that was Jon's first experience tagging. I fell only once on that run, a blue. Whee!! Progress!

As the afternoon went on, I found myself starting slopes without my TAGpoints, recalling them only when I started to run too hot. When I did need them, I alternated points as necessary. Being right-handed, I turned better to the right, so that TAGpoint was "chest downhill." For left turns, where I still wasn't confident in turning aggressively, I dropped to the lower criteria of "knees over toes." Then I gradually and unconsciously faded the TAGpoints altogether.

But I didn't fade the skills. By the end of the day, I was running blues repeatedly without falling, in decent form and good control. I was very proud of myself; though I'm still nowhere near their skill level, I'm at least capable of having a good time now.

Human Cruelty

2009-11-09T12:57:00.006-05:00

I read something today that just absolutely blew me away.

"...it's true that these breeds love fighting so much that we could discuss about whether dogfighting is -- in the case of these breeds -- mistreatment of the dogs..."

What's truly mind-boggling is that this statement did not come from a professional dogfighter. It's not from a gang lord or a drug dealer to justify using dogfight gambling to make and move money. This is from a professional dog trainer.

How any professional could think that dogfighting -- torn skin, deep punctures, broken bones, and the abusive "training" to prepare and then separate fighting dogs (one method of breaking apart is to hold flame to a dog's genitals) -- is not "mistreatment" is utterly beyond me. The statement that a pit bull sincerely enjoys this justifies the abuse and criminalizes the breed.

I do agree with some of what this person said, that pit bulls should not be given greater latitude in behavior or temperament simply because they are poor, victimized pit bulls. I am not in favor of passing an iffy dog through a temperament test because of breed, whether that dog is a often-abused pit bull type or a can't-be-really-aggressive Golden Retriever. I do agree that people shouldn't choose a pit bull just to make a point or just to coddle one and they should be aware that the breed -- like every single other breed -- has advantages and drawbacks. But I am utterly, wholly, madly against criminalizing a breed and justifying the worst of human cruelty.

There are many, many sites with awful, graphic photos of the results of dogfighting. These should be enough to convince that it is far beyond "mistreatment," but I'm going to include a link to photos taken just this past weekend, of an abandoned fighting dog left to die on the side of a road -- one broken foreleg, one previously-broken and badly healed foreleg, more than fifty punctures "large enough to put a finger in," and more. This dog could not be saved and was euthanized. But tell me -- could you look into this dog's face and say you believed he enjoyed this? Can you look at this dog and say that it's not abuse, not mistreatment, not a terrible human problem creating trouble for our community and our dogs?

EDIT: Indy Pit Crew's flier on Dog Fighting Awareness can be downloaded here! Fight illegal dogfighting!

EDIT #2: I wanted to share the following comment (from someone else, on the dog in the photos) as well --

"Poor, injured, tortured dog, limping toward strangers on its broken forelegs, seeking help. Things like this make me think that the people responsible need to suffer similar treatment. It's just awful... and tragic for the dogs."

I find it amazing that this dog, after all it had been through, was still seeking people. The true human-friendly origin of the breed is still in there, despite all that's been done. We humans need to own up to our actions.

New Suit and a Trial

2009-11-09T12:40:00.001-05:00

Saturday morning I took Laev to training and introduced her to a bitesuit jacket. She didn't have much hesitation at all in transitioning from a sleeve to a suit; I was almost suprised at how quickly she moved from an arm bite up to biting on the back and shoulders. She *loved* winning the whole jacket; she took it back to the car with her and wrapped all four legs about it as she held on with her mouth. She did out when requested, but she is clearly into this new game.

We're introducing suitwork because I would like to take Laev to a UKC-SDA dog sport trial, where we can do obedience and protection work without gunfire. We're still having trouble with that; for every bit of progress we make, we then have a setback, as when I was gone over a weekend and target practice began next door, inducing a fresh panic attack. /sigh/ Honestly, sometimes I despair of ever getting past this. It frustrates me so much, because (as I know I've said, sorry for repeating) she did not have this fear as a young dog; it's been wholly learned. And it's preventing us from showing off what we can do.

At least she's having fun with a suit. I have to teach some new exercises for the other venue, but that shouldn't be too hard.

Then I drove up for an APDT trial, Sunday only. (I'd wanted to do Saturday, but I'd never heard back from the secretary who'd told me to just email my entries and pay when I arrived. I'm glad I called a friend at the trial before driving several hours -- she was able to confirm that though the secretary had received my email, I wasn't on the Saturday list!) Shakespeare ran four classes and got four legs, never scoring under 205*, and legitimized his ARCHEX (I'd thought he'd gotten it before, APDT records disagreed, I went back for extra QQs. I probably screwed up my counting!) What most impressive is that I've hardly worked with him at all -- read, once or twice -- since his last trial in March. He is such the reliable Old Man. What a guy.

* APDT runs have 200 possible points, plus an optional 10-point bonus exercise.

Laev, on the other hand, was a total ditz. I took her into the building once just to acclimate (I wasn't going to try to crate inside, as it was a small area), and she glanced around and then promptly downed and focused on me, picture-perfect. I was feeling pretty good. We came in for her first run, and she set up nicely just inside the ring gate, cute and focused. Great. We moved forward and I set her up for a recall over a jump, the first exercise. I cued her to "sit" as I prepared to step away (we don't use a "stay" cue) and she popped into an obedience stand.

Laev has a superstitious head movement with her obedience stand, so it's very obvious when she's standing in response to a cue as opposed to standing accidentally or casually. This was a perfect obedience stand.

That's an automatic NQ, but I thought we could at least continue the run as if we hadn't NQ'd on the very first exercise. I asked her to come into heel and then cued sit again. Pop! Perfect obedience stand. And, once more.

I have no idea why "sit" suddenly meant to stand, but it clearly did. More, Laev was clearly getting frustrated at being told to sit and stand repeatedly. After the third mistake, I left her in a stand and went to recall over the jump, which she did. We were rattled, though, and the connection was gone. She was seized by the desire to examine the food bowls in the figure-8 (no eating and she did recall to me, so it wasn't a total disaster) and we made up the rest of our course, ending on a slightly better note. Total ditz.

She needed only one leg to finish her RL3 title, so we still had a chance in the afternoon trial. I took a moment to review "sit" and she seemed to get it. :) When it was her turn for the last run (the trial dragged late), I brought her in and, stupidly, thought I'd get a couple of directed retrieves (this run's bonus) before going in the ring. I set up my focused dog in the emptying crating area and put out her dumbbell.

We were a good fifteen feet from the nearest line of crates, but the trial had been running long and I suppose the crated dogs were sick of it. The crates were uncovered, and as Laev trotted out, a line of dogs lunged at their doors. Laev aborted the retrieve as she whirled to look for the attack, and I called her back to me, feeling angry and stupid. I'd just wanted an open space to warm up, and I'd picked a row of grumpy dogs! Another dog came by us, very close, and Laev jumped and snarked, still hackled defensively. Oh, stink.

And then we were up. I knew Laev wasn't mentally recovered, but what else to do? We went in and faced that same first exercise, a recall over a jump. Laev sat, I cued her to wait, she popped into an obedience stand, wholly distracted. Yep. We flubbed through the course 'til we could end on the backward heeling exercise, which she does very well, and asked to be excused. Whew.

"It's a young dog," the judge told me. "Not THAT young," replied. Seriously, Laev, you're brilliant in many aspects, you can do so many things beyond simple rally exercises -- what's up with this silliness?

Very frustrating, overall. Between the gunfire hangup and this flubbed trial, I'm feeling rather defeated.

Dangerous Dobermans & Rabid Rottweiler Make a New Friend :-)

2009-11-05T20:39:00.001-05:00

We had a couple of visitors coming in last week, costuming friends (I'll use their industry names, Saeru and Elemental) coming to stay the night and do a photoshoot. I was excited to have them. Then my sister reminded me that Elemental didn't like dogs.

I had totally forgotten this fact, because for the most part Elemental is a fairly neat person and I don't include dislike of dogs in my definition of "neat." But what the heck, we could manage for a day or two, surely. I have a large enough house that no one has to share space if they don't want to.

There was a reason for her dislike, I learned; she'd grown up in a less-than-idyllic neighborhood, where dogs were generally kept for the purpose of keeping other people away. My Dobermans were of a size and coloring which implied danger, and she froze up for a moment upon seeing Inky; it was a Rottweiler which used to break its chain and chase her down the street.

We were wholly disorganized on the day of their arrival, though, and they had more dog exposure than I had initially planned. When we packed up to depart for the photoshoot, Elemental realized she'd forgotten an item and ran back into the house with my husband. Shakespeare ran alongside them, happy and bouncing, and I felt a moment of chagrin. He was no threat, of course, but he was distinctly too close for someone who didn't like such things.

When Elemental returned to the van, she turned to face me and said sharply, "Your dogs break all the rules!"

Oh, no, I thought. Here it comes, I'm being a bad hostess and friend--

"They wag their tails and they're happy to see people and they're friendly! Dogs of that color scheme aren't supposed to be friendly! You're messing with my head!"

Well, there were worse things that could happen. :)

That was Saturday, when Elemental first met the dogs and learned how to invite them for petting or send them away neutrally. Sunday night, she was reclining on the couch, with Shakespeare in her lap, Inky leaning on her shoulder, and Laev upside down on the floor at her feet.

Monday it was decided that Saeru would move on without Elemental, rejoining at the convention where we'd all meet again that weekend. So Elemental stayed in the House of Dogs a bit longer.

Wednesday morning, Elemental watched a shaping session with Laev and then trained Shakespeare herself, teaching him to place his right front paw in a bucket on the cue "kumquat." (Hey, it was a random word not used for another cue!) She was pretty good at it, too! catching on faster than most. Her timing was very good for a novice, too; probably because she's a both a video gamer and a professional photographer.

I was very proud of my dogs and of my friend Elemental, both. And that, dear readers, is how we fight and overcome BSL -- by presenting good canine ambassadors and by being open-minded enough to see past appearances. Trapped in my house, Elemental amused herself by discussing philosophy and worldview with me. We spent a good deal of time on racism, I recall, and yet I never thought at the time how it was directly related to "breed-ism" in that judgment was made based solely on appearance. But that's what we had, and what we demolished, this weekend.

Snake! Snake! Oh, it's a Snake!

2009-11-04T16:59:00.001-05:00

I heard Laev barking outside. This wasn't a normal bark of "Hey, I hear something," or "Hey, squirrel, come back down here!" -- there was a defensive note to it.

As this was the day after my parents' horses were stolen just a half-mile away, I took my phone and went to investigate.

I found Laev circling a spot on the ground and immediately recognized that she'd encountered a snake, probably basking for a last bit of solar energy before going to hibernation. It was now coiled upon itself and was striking at her as she darted at it. This explained the frantic note in her barking; she's not used to prey that fights back!

We don't have a real risk of venomous snakes in our area, so Laev wasn't in much danger, but I like our snakes and I don't want them harmed, either. I walked up to the deadlocked pair and frowned. I knew Laev wouldn't want to turn her back on what she clearly considered a threat, so a recall wasn't likely to happen -- plus, if she turned away and was bitten, it wouldn't do my recall cue much good, either! I decided to simply walk up and take her collar. But Laev could circle the snake much faster than I could....

It's terrible that I have to admit that I needed a moment to realize I could simply cue the dog to stay where she was. /facepalm/

I called "down!" as Laev ran around the snake, and she responded beautifully, dropping instantly a couple of feet back. The snake froze as well, and I stepped up and knelt beside Laev, taking her collar for safety. I didn't want to immediately take her from the snake, which I knew she would interpret as a punishment for her quick down, so my plan was to praise her, stroke her quietly, and then lead her away when she had come down from her fevered high. It was a good plan.

Laev, however, was pretty sure that she was going to be rewarded for her instant down with a chance at the snake. After all, when I call her into position from the bad guy, she often gets to go for him, right? So she remained pretty keyed, tense in her sphinx down and thrashing her long tail fiercely. When it became apparent after a moment that I was not releasing her to the snake, she began displacing energy a bit, sniffing at the ground and glancing from side to side.

She glanced to the left and saw a long black shape whip through the tall grass. SNAKE! She tensed and started to lunge--

Oh. That's just my own tail.

Laev gave me an embarrassed look -- "did you see me almost do that?" -- and then relaxed. After a moment, I stood and she walked nicely with me away from the unmoved snake. We had a good laugh about it later.

* For those who don't understand the title reference, click here. No, I can't explain it either. Such is the internet.

** Yes! The stolen horses were recovered. Thanks again to all who helped spread the word; I credit social networking and the power of the internet for their return.

Trial Report -- DPCA Nationals

2009-10-13T18:06:00.002-04:00

First, for those of you wondering how I'm able to do two Doberman Nationals in the US in a single year, let me mention briefly that the United Doberman Club and the Doberman Pinscher Club of America each hold a weeklong national show.

Today I took Laev to her first AKC Open attempt. I hate AKC Open, I really do. I like all the individual exercises, but I despise the group stays with a passion. This is why Laev has had her CD for a while and yet has never done Open.

But today, we tried Open. Fortunately, I iterated a few minutes before we went in the ring that we weren't out to do well or even necessarily to qualify today, that I just wanted ring time and that I considered our entry my donation to the club's trophy fund. It wasn't that I didn't think we had a chance; Laev actually did very well last night when I took her to a local store for practice in a strange environment, nailing her out-of-sight sit even while a store employee invited her to come and see him. She twitched, then settled back into her sit and grinned to herself. "Nope! I'm waiting for Mom!" So I returned, treated, and then took her to greet him, which they both enjoyed. So I knew it was theoretically possible.

Real life, though, doesn't always follow theory.

Bad stuff first: The moment we entered the ring, Laev disconnected and looked sniffy as she gazed about. She was slow to set up, looking a bit vacant about the eyes, and I knew we weren't ready. But we had to begin, and so we started forward on the judge's order. Laev heeled about 10 steps and then disconnected again, heeling wide, sniffing the air and occasionally the floor, and then she left me altogether -- something I did NOT expect today. She didn't try to bolt from the ring or anything, but she was very interested in sniffing a particular corner. Who knows why?

She wanted to reengage during the figure 8, but she just couldn't quite swing it. I think if I'd had five seconds to down her and cue her into heel again, she'd have had it, but I didn't think of it before the judge's order and she couldn't quite make the leap while moving.

Laev missed the drop on recall. She normally has a lovely drop on recall. This was her stressing out and trying to return to me, I think. She did drop nicely into heel position and for the first time seemed to know what she was doing. Too bad she skipped the down in order to recollect herself with me!

I was actually happy with the retrieve on flat. Laev ran eagerly out to the dumbbell but knocked it with her foot as she reached it, and the dumbbell flew out the back of the ring -- through the ring gate, by the sniffy corner. Oh, no! Laev ran promptly to the dumbbell, stretched her head through the gate, and started to bring the dumbbell back in. Oh, no, again! I had visions of the entire ring gate returning to me. But Laev paused, worked out how to fit the dumbbell through the hole, and brought it to me. The front was crooked, but I didn't care; she was totally on task and thinking! Yay!

Move to the retrieve over high jump. Again, Laev did everything okay (imperfect front again). But she was getting frustrated and stressy again; I'd had to down her and cue her into heel position for the setup. Hmm.

The broad jump was the final exercise, and Laev did NOT want to set up for it. She actually trotted over to the boards as we moved to our place and began to sniff them -- very odd! I called her back, popped her into heel, and sent her over the jump. She jumped acceptably but got lost, hesitating rather than coming directly to front. Silly dog.

There was a pattern to all this madness; Laev needed about one minute when we entered the waiting area to settle and focus. Last night at the store she needed 30-60 seconds each time we switched aisles to be on again. Each time we went to a new location within today's ring, she unfocused again. We need more new locations in our training! She doesn't have fast-focus in new locations.

Now, the good stuff, because there was good stuff too.... When we entered the obedience area today, Laev got very tense, and then she downed herself and looked directly at me. I was so pleased that she had put herself into a calming focus-down on her own! Even though she wasn't "on" yet, she had downed herself and checked in. She really did try to focus all day, even under tough circumstances.

One story: another handler, moving around us, stepped squarely on Laev's tail. Laev yelped and jumped and got frenzied for a moment, as this reactivated all the stress she'd been unloading, but after a few seconds of jumping she was able to settle on her mat again. The handler was very apologetic; she had seen the butt and walked around, she said, but she hadn't even thought of looking for a tail! Ah, the perils of a natural dog. :) Laev recovered, though she was more sensitive about touch for a few minutes.

Other good stuff -- I already mentioned the dumbbell problem and solution, which was nice to see. And a fellow competitor commented that Laev had a very happy face while running to me, where many of the dogs were offering a lot of appeasement behaviors in the ring. (Laev was stressed, too, which was why she missed the down, but she wasn't worried about me at least.)

And I stayed calm while things didn't go well. I didn't think of everything I could have done to help her (quick down, hand target, etc.), but I didn't get upset and make things worse. That's a good thing. (It helped that I didn't have high expectations for today, but still, I get more nervous trialing Laev than any other competition or hobby I do!)

In the bigger picture, Laev was MUCH calmer than normal in the trial area. Even though it was tight quarters, with strange dogs bumping into each other in the way I hate, she never hackled or got worried about another dog. I was very pleased with that. And while we were a part of the 80% of our class which NQ'd, my dog and I had happy attitudes about the whole thing and we enjoyed our outing, which is what matters.

(EDIT: I don't mean to say that Laev normally hackles when she sees other dogs, of course! I meant that even in startling situations -- as when two dogs come around a blind corner and physically collide, as happened yesterday -- she just shrugged it off, whereas before that would have resulted in a bit of hackle as she jumped back.)

It was sad that we had to end the day on a bad note. I signed Laev up to donate blood for the DNA databank, and the blood draw workers restrained her in a way that made her very uncomfortable. I informed them that I could hold her safely, but they didn't buy it. I kind of understand that -- when I tell my vet that I can control the dog, my vet knows me well enough to believe it, while to these folks I was an unreliable stranger and they don't want to be bitten -- but Laev did not appreciate having a total stranger straddle her and wrap her head while another stranger tried three times to find a vein in her neck and finally moved to the leg for more attempts. She was upset enough by it that afterward she hesitated to take a treat from the worker -- which says volumes, considering Laev's appetite.

So Laev, bursting with pent worry, kind of exploded from the blood draw area, jumping on me and careening at the end of her leash. I didn't have a toy to hand her, which would have given her an acceptable outlet for the energy, and so she looked like a bronco for a moment. I didn't mind, really; I knew what was driving it and I knew that she'd be okay in a moment. (I did feel bad when Laev, recognizing my sister, jumped up and bashed her cheek with a giant schnoz.) But someone came and told me where I could buy a pinch collar at the show, which was sad; it was just a stressed dog dumping energy. I said that Laev would settle when I asked, and indeed she did, but the damage was done; she'd looked like a crazy out-of-control dog. Ah, well. I can't control everything.

So Laev left on a more stressy note, but if I log more location miles, it shouldn't matter in the long run. And we didn't do well in our first AKC Open attempt, but that's okay; after watching the line of obviously stressed dogs in the stays, I'm not sure if I care enough to do it. I want to go on to Utility, but I just hate those Open group stays. It's not an example of real-life function -- I would NEVER leave my dog alone in a stay with a bunch of strange dogs in real life! -- and I don't think it's safe. (Even today, I had brought a backup person whose purpose wassimply to call Laev out if it looked as if there would be an altercation in the ring.) I think obedience should be about teamwork, not nerve-wracking out-of-sight stays. (End of soapbox!)

I need to find some UKC trials; I prefer their honor stays and single group stay. Laev's not done any UKC yet.

But I learned something today, and I hope that Laev did, too. And we had a good outing. Yay, dog sports!

Tourist Trap

2009-10-07T01:17:00.002-04:00

I've decided not to leave Laev where she might encounter gunfire without me, so I took her with me to our annual outing to Nashville, a tourist destination small town trading on its down home rural appeal and its spectacular fall foliage. It was rainy and cool, so Laev was perfectly happy to nap in her car crate. I stopped at the car to let her out, but she mostly wanted to continue her nap.

Then I took her out to work a bit in the town, which I thought would be good practice. Boy, was it! I don't know why this was so hard for Laev, who has been out in public regularly since puppyhood, but she was very distracted by the environment. She wasn't out of control or anything, but I knew I didn't have her attention. She just couldn't focus.

Alena and I stopped by a leather workshop for some supplies, and that was where Laev finally settled. Maybe it was just the staying in one place for a while? I don't know. But she finally started offering me unprompted behavior and she began to relax comfortably. She also served as store greeter while we were there, as at first we were waiting outside the open door, but as time passed and I conversed with Alena inside, we crept in out of the rain and Laev parked on the entry mat, looking for all the world like a well-trained dog. We chatted with the shopkeeper, Laev accepted pets from customers, and she almost got a job. ("Are you guarding the shop today?" a visitor asked. "No, anyone can get in, but she will only let you out with a minimum purchase." The clerk responded, "She can stay here all day!")

After that, I tried a bit of out-of-sight stays in the parking lot (with Laev on a long line and Alena only a few feet away!), but it was too much for her in that environment. She didn't move, but she would stand in place. Wish I knew what the big deal was, there!

On Embroidery & Poisoned Cues

2009-10-06T21:37:00.003-04:00

One thing about studying behavior and OC, it messes with your whole perspective on everything.

In my other life, my non-dog hobby is costuming. A couple of years ago I purchased a sewing machine with embroidery attachment to help my group produce more amazing pieces; I also had glorious visions of selling personalized dog beds and other materials.

Yeah, right. That embroidery machine declared its supremacy upon arrival and never let me make a bid for recovery. It all but alpha-rolled me. I appreciated the upgrading sewing capability, but each attempt at embroidery left me frustrated and angry. The software seemed straightforward enough, but the infinitesimal margin of error in setup and operation resulted in an incredible parade of thread tangles, broken needles, jammed hoops, and other accidents I could not have even imagined.

It wasn't long before I was avoiding embroidery tasks. Not only did I abandon my visions of extra projects -- I have veritable heaps of dog bed materials lying abandoned about me -- but I began to avoid the costume embroidery for which I'd purchased the machine in the first place. When I did tackle an embroidery project, I had profound physical reactions -- my muscles tensed, my breathing changed, and I was irritable and sharp.

And that blasted beep. The machine has only one sound, a double-beep. This double-beep sounds once for successful completion of an embroidery block ("beep-beep!") and thrice for each and every error, jam, tangle, break, explosion, or other unhappy event ("beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep!"). Whenever the machine beeped, I jumped, even if it were announcing success -- because the initial sound of success was identical to the initial sound of failure. Even after I realized that it was the good kind of beep, I felt only a weary relief instead of the joy of accomplishment.

This, I reflected, was a poisoned environment and a very poisoned cue.

Tonight I realized that I could no longer put off the embroidery which needed done for our present costuming project. I spent an hour and a half preparing, reinstalling the embroidery software and carefully arranging all materials, testing and retesting the fabric in the hoop. I set up the machine and, hesitantly, pressed the start button. Then I sat anxiously watching, shoulders hunched and fingers curled.

The machine beeped. I jumped. False alarm; the thread wasn't really broken. Restart. Beep. Jump. Ah, first block finished. Start next block. Beep. Jump. Slipped bobbin thread caused a mess of my highlighted gold. I carefully reset the machine and redid the messy part, hand-cranking the machine to avoid jams.

Restart. Beep. Jump. Nothing appeared to be wrong. Restart. A horribly-familiar clunking sound; the needle had been broken. Upon examination, I found that the bobbin thread had slipped again, tangling the embroidery foot and breaking the needle. Rage.

Clean up, new needle, restart. Beep. Nope, this was fine, just a bit of confusion in the machine with a mid-block restart.

Still, I'm listening carefully, and whenever I hear some stress on the needle as the machine goes partially over previous stitches, I stop it and hand crank. Machine programming notwithstanding, this still beats picking out each stitch by hand!

Eventually I start the machine again and sit back. It's running right now, but I don't trust it. At this point I've probably hand-cranked a couple thousand stitches, but I much prefer that to the lost time and materials of a ruined piece, broken needles, etc. Even though right now everything seems to be peachy, I can't just relax and wait for the cue to start the next block, because I don't trust that cue. The sound does not offer me clear, unambiguous information -- it's a threat of bad news.

Superstitious behavior is rampant in this project. I watch the machine constantly, occasionally even stopping it when I turn away to the computer (as now) as if that could prevent accident. Some of my dear readers are probably laughing at me right now. Go ahead and laugh -- it's not as if I don't find myself ridiculous in this as well! -- but I'm still watching the machine. Reinforcement is a powerful thing, even if I know it's only a superstitious behavior.

It did jam royally once -- I had to cut out the hoop from the bobbin tangle, restart the block and manually fast-forward about 5,000 stitches to finish -- but now, finally, the embroidery is finished. It looks pretty good, and it cost me only one needle. I am pleased. However, I did not feel any pleasure at the final "beep-beep" of completion; that cue is too poisoned. The slowed needle retraction is not intended for indication or communication, but it is a far more valuable signal to me!

Not A Completely-Bad Weekend, Either

2009-10-06T00:44:00.003-04:00

I'd forgotten, in my gloom, that Laev had done a fairly nice track on Saturday morning. Despite the 5k race alongside our track and a brisk wind, she stayed focused and worked pretty well, only pausing to sniff where some stupid park dog had pooped on our track (grr) and missing one article at the end where her stupid handler made an error (grrrrrr). Overall, though, pretty good.

I had the track taped to provide footage for Jen, and I captured an image from it, just to prove that the weekend wasn't all bad:

Not A Good Weekend

2009-10-05T10:16:00.001-04:00

Well, I'd thought we were making decent progress with Laev's gunfire fear. (Quick review -- Laev was not fearful at all for years, but developed a phobia with exposure to a neighbor's LONG gunfire sessions. She became very sensitized to real [not recorded] gunfire and also to thunder through this, to the point where she shakes and her obedience is possible but not reliable.) We'd gotten to the point where Laev could hold her down while I fired at a distance and then returned to treat, and I'd even fired a couple of times from my right hand while we were heeling. (It's tough training alone...!)

But, hunting season is fast approaching, and apparently it's time for all the hunters in my area to get together for target practice. This means the hours of repetitive shots have returned this week, and not just little pistol shots -- I don't know what's over there, but it sounds like a freakin' cannon. If it's a rumbling boom even inside my house with 6" walls, it's of course a disturbance to my dog....

So much a disturbance, in fact, that when I left Laev in her kennel outside one day, I returned to find that she'd leapt out through the 6-foot-high roof, breaking welded wire to escape. I was NOT pleased.

And of course our gunfire progress has gone to pot. I can't control her exposure and keep it at her threshold; we're right back to what created the problem in the first place. I may have to start keeping Laev in my car, taking her whenever I leave home so that she's never alone with the neighbor's target practice.

Friday I had a very upsetting incident, and while I was fully functional on Saturday, I probably still had some emotional spillover. Laev was present on Friday and probably still a bit confused or worried on Saturday, but she gave me some really nice send-outs. (I've been rebuilding distance; I'd worked so much on close, controlled send-outs while making sure that she didn't keep running due to stress that now I need to go back for distance.) Her turn-and-downs were lovely, really made me happy.

Then Laev had much bigger fish to fry, because it was her first bitework session in three weeks! I'd been limiting her work to give her knee a chance to recover. I knew she was pumped to get back, but I wanted to check her knee, and so our first exercise was a control exercise -- not exactly setting up for success! Fortunately I was getting some video footage of anticipation and arousal work for Jen White, and this was indeed a great example of a dog getting too high to respond to known cues. Laev was NOT performing to standard -- she ran to the blind instead of to me, she needed two cues to return to heel from the blind, she was a bit mouthy on the outs instead of her usual ultra-clean response.

I'm not really worried; I know we'll have it all back in a week. It's actually good for me to see her pushed because I know where we need to work. But it was frustrating, after losing so much elsewhere.

I really don't know where we'll be for the fall trial. Our problem last time was the gunfire; if we lose all our gunfire progress to hunting season, we'll be exactly where we were a year ago, with lovely skills but no way to show them off. I'm really depressed about the whole thing right now.

Knee Injury. I Am Not Happy.

2009-09-16T01:52:00.002-04:00

Laev came up lame last week, having (I believe) slipped on wet grass. We took it easy for a few days, and when she didn't improve (she had only a very mild limp, not noticeable to most, but it was persistent) I took her to the vet. The verdict was that she had no discernible serious injury, and I should give her a bit of anti-inflammatory and continue to work her for short periods. I asked specifically about the work, as bitework is a full-contact sport, but I was assured it would be okay.

The anti-inflammatory seemed to do the trick, as Laev was no longer limping after a couple of days. I took her to training Monday night and she did short but happy obedience. I outlined a short bitework session consisting primarily of transports to avoid long runs and smashing into the helper. I thought we had a good plan.

But first I did a blind search. Laev heeled wonderfully to set up and sat at heel, one of her hardest exercises (how can the simple setup be hardest?). Beautiful. I sent her and she went pretty wide around the first blind; I made a mental note that I'll have to train a tighter turn. I sent her to the second blind, where the bad guy was hidden, and Laev shot right past it...! It almost looked as if she made no attempt to turn, but her enraged barking as she went by revealed her anger and frustration. She hadn't been able to make the turn, and she knew he would escape... as he did, because I'd given him instructions to do so just as an exercise for her. She did manage to turn and catch him, but obviously her knee was not up to making a sharp turn at high speed.

I finished the session with our short, safe exercises I'd planned (and Laev did even better than expected, good girl!), but I was upset. No more turns and no jumping for a long while. I'm not going to risk a more serious injury 'til we know exactly what is going on here.

We will of course take this at Laev's pace. But I am going to be very peeved if I manage to finally conquer our gunfire issue and then cannot compete and title due to a soft tissue injury.

Happy Obedience!

2009-09-08T03:45:00.001-04:00

Man, Laev was on fire tonight. I felt like a jerk for not bringing her tug out on the field, as that was clearly what she wanted to work for. (She accepted the treats, though!) She gave me bright, happy heeling -- even with the very noisy distraction I'd invented for tonight, someone circling us shaking a metal bucket with chains. As part of our new Noise With Heeling protocol, it was a fabulous start.

She also gave me absolutely perfect (short) honor downs, even while the horses galloped in the pasture opposite us. What a good girl.

I am still worried about her knee, but I couldn't refuse her all bitework again, especially when she was working so well. So we did a very short side transport session, where Laev did no turning and no pulling (I had the helper slip the sleeve immediately). It did blow her mind to start with the side transport instead of a more active exercise; she had a tough time getting started and keeping position. She ended well, though. Good girl.

Bitework & Society

2009-09-07T23:58:00.020-04:00

I know it's late and I should just let this go, especially after I posted today about avoiding reactivity. ;-) But I am really disturbed by this.

Someone asked online about bitework and safety. Is it not true, it was suggested, that bitework training creates a dog which will more readily bite a human aggressively and inappropriately?

I get this question a lot. A LOT. And most of the time I just answer it and move on. But what made this one different was that someone answered talking about me, not in a good way, and suddenly the question shifted from rational to emotional.

But I shall try to answer rationally, still.

Let me ask this: Has it not been suggested that playing tug, chase, wrestling games, and/or feeding meat, feeding human food, feeding raw, etc. all will create a dog which more readily bites a human aggressively and inappropriately? Don't we all know (at least, I hope we do!) that none of these things will in itself create aggression?

I do not argue that bad bitework training is abominable and potentially dangerous. You will never hear me defend bad training. But good training is just that -- good training.

Both my bitework-trained dogs also tested successfully for therapy work. Picture my dog lying on the ground, surrounded by mentally-handicapped children who are shrieking with excitement. One boy, flailing his arms because he's not sure how else to express himself, steps on my dog's ear. I move to intercept, but my dog lies quietly and calmly makes eye contact with me as if to say, "No sweat, Mom, I understand that he doesn't know what he's doing." And this is the same dog who scared off two creepy guys late one night with a minimal show of aggression, escalating no higher than necessary to make them move away.

This is stimulus control. This is good training. This is the same concept that means my martial arts practice itself never made me more likely to mug someone.

I'm sorry if I sound defensive. Some bitework trainers have been called awful things. I wrote earlier today that aggression was a sign of fear; we can be reactive because we ARE afraid. We have been told we are not welcome in communities, we have seen legal attempts to ban our sport. Positive bitework trainers have been called liars because some ignorant folk think bitework must include abuse. We're afraid because no matter how many times we explain and even invite others to come and watch for themselves, we see people prefer their base fears to learning something new -- and it's a real risk to us and our dogs.

It's as if someone attacked freestyle because it is so inherently unnatural for a dog to do those things, it must be psychologically abusive to train them. It's as if someone protested that flyball dogs must inevitably develop into a danger around children with bouncy balls. What if your dog suddenly, classically conditioned by the fun of flyball or agility, jumped over a fence or ran in front of someone and tripped them? What if a trained herding dog tried to gather a bunch of kids? These sports should be banned! I hope you think this sounds ridiculous; trust me that this is what anti-bitework worries sound like to a good trainer.

I'm not defending that creepy guy torturing a panicked dog into biting anything that moves; that guy would create a monster even if he were playing at flyball or freestyle. I'm talking about real training. We try to protect the public and ourselves; occasionally our club politely rejects an inappropriate dog and/or an incompetent handler. We don't want bad things to happen, either. We're dog lovers, too!

One time, I left my Shakespeare (that's the one who's worked with thousands of kids) with someone else for a moment. While I was away, a handicapped child (unnatural body movement) who was on crutches (even more unnatural movement and visual intrusion) wanted to greet the dog (who had never met him) and pinned him in a corner (the person with the leash wasn't attentive to situation). What did my bitework-trained dog, the one allegedly with lowered bite inhibition and a conditioned reflex for aggressive behavior, do when trapped before this very unnatural, unpredictable, grasping and clutching kid? He just barked. I heard him, came and saw what was happening, and was able to intervene.

There are an awful lot of dogs who haven't had bitework training who would have responded more aggressively. Why didn't the predictions of bitework opponents come true here? Some might even argue that Shakespeare was able to more accurately assess a true threat and/or the total stimulus package to cue biting, so that he recognized this was not a time to bite despite his acute discomfort; I don't know. But you won't hear that discussed by those who have already decided that bitework is necessarily dangerous.

Bitework is the pit bull of dog sports; wonderful fun if known for what it should be, but scary when viewed vaguely from a distance through a filter of preconceptions and bad examples.

I have long maintained that I will be happy to introduce my bitework-trained dogs to anyone interested. (It's telling that NOT ONE person telling me bitework must be bad has ever accepted an offer to meet my dog or view our training, even via video.) Please, don't just declare my dog's greatest love to be a menace to society and to dogs. Don't make false claims that legitimate bitework training creates a more dangerous dog. Please trust that I love my dogs dearly, and I would never risk them by putting anyone else at risk.

ADDENDUM:

I have been a bad trainer. While writing this, I was focusing primarily on the negative comments regarding bitework and me personally, even though there were also positive comments.

More, the vast majority of people I've met and spoken to about bitework have listened with interest, asked intelligent questions, and accepted that it's valid training with real benefits. I didn't write about their reasonable questions, assessments, and conclusions; I reacted only to the relatively limited unwanted and threatening behavior. Bad trainer. Yes, reactivity truly does come from fear!

I'm going to attempt to be a better trainer now. I will leave the post up, because what I wrote is still true, but I want to specifically thank all those who have listened, questioned, and cheered good training even in this sport, even though it isn't your own. I should listen more to you and less to the few naysayers. :)

Reactivity, Aggression, & Fear, or, "ZOMG ther R stupid ppl online!"

2009-09-07T11:12:00.010-04:00

I admit it was entirely my fault; I did laugh aloud.

I took a break from what I was doing yesterday afternoon and glanced at Twitter* activity. One of the accounts I follow is a gentleman with some right-wing political leanings. And when I say he leans to the right, I mean where most people's blood vessels are mapped in red and blue, his are all arteries. He's really a nice guy who does a lot of travel writing, but he does like to engage in political debate online.

Hold on, this does eventually relate to training! Stay with me a moment.

Yesterday this person was retweeting insults sent from liberals with whom he was debating. I had just arrived to browse and obviously wasn't following the full debate, but the comments he was reposting were sadly amusing: a blender of "lame," "stupid," "shame," etc., and mostly mentioning his age. "Is that your great great great great great grandfather in your avatar?" kind of thing. So I replied that while I was solidly politically moderate, I was amused by the "we disagree because you're old!" approach.

That was my mistake. Seconds later, I received an angry message from one of the liberal posters. "Re-read... Stay on the side." And immediately after, "...How did you reach such a simple-minded conclusion?"

Now, I don't follow this other (liberal) poster. I mentioned no names. He doesn't know me. He must be tracking every reply to the (conservative) poster -- something simple, aboveboard, and relatively anal. I was surprised, but answered, "Wasn't taking sides 'til someone told me to stay on the side. ;-) ... If you don't intend age comments, don't use words like 'stone age' and 'great grandfather'."

I thought this was relatively straightforward. But no, no it wasn't. "Oh, we meant age comments, FOR SURE. His age is not why we disagree though."

So you disagree for unknown reasons; I'm fine with that. But you're making age insults then out of pure malice? Isn't that even worse than "we disagree 'cuz you're old"?

I was highly amused by all this reactivity (featuring more name-calling of me) and wavered dangerously close to becoming an internet troll for a few minutes. It would have been easy to provoke more explosions for my personal amusement and possibly the amusement of others (all these messages are public online). But I had work to do, and I resisted the temptation.

Within a few minutes, though, I had a number of new followers on Twitter. Either this enraged liberal is trying to watch me under other names, or others were also amused or swayed by this reactivity.

Now, if you've even made it this far, you're wondering what this possibly has to do with training. Well, a couple of things, actually.

Reactivity in training -- First, reactivity is bad. But we're often the cause of it. When we are working with a reactive or aggressive dog, we often absolve ourselves of blame. Labels are the simplest and most subtle way of doing this -- "it's an aggressive dog" indicates that it's the dog's problem, not ours, just as "he's old" or "he's liberal" is an easy way of avoiding the real discussion. That's not to say that the dog's behavior doesn't need changing! I'm not advocating that we simply take away the word "aggressive" and leave the dogs as they are. But recognize that the dog does not exist in a vacuum.

Even though the original insult was posted publicly, I prompted the aggression toward me by reacting to it, even indirectly. The poster was clearly loaded already, ready to explode; I was the trigger.

Much of the dog aggression I see as a trainer is caused by humans, either though inattention and neglect (failing to notice stress signs and other precursors or the dog's attempt to avoid a situation) or directly (setting the dog up for a situation it's not yet capable of handling, or even direct aggression toward the dog [often in the guise of "correction"]). Most clients are amazed when I point out the dozen or so signs predicting an aggressive response, giving them plenty of time to prevent it if they just notice -- and I've lost count of how many calls I get pleading for help because the dog growls or bites "when we go to correct him."

Long ago I coined a phrase while working with a couple of troubled dogs, when I'd often get unwanted advice from others. "Violence indicates the dumb end of the leash." I no longer think that's exactly true; violence indicates the confused and afraid end of the leash.

If a dog reacts violently to a human, it's because it does not know what else to do. If a human reacts violently to a dog, it's because he doesn't not know how to handle the situation otherwise.

If I stay calm, cool, and collected, and I focus on what I want to train rather than simply escalating our reactions, I have a much better chance of success. I'm slowly learning to simply walk away when emotion starts interfering with training.

The problem is, sometimes we can be too emotional to see that we're emotional.

Reactivity in discussion -- Here again, I still firmly believe that aggression indicates where confusion and fear lie. If someone gets upset and starts name-calling, that's a pretty good indicator that he's already exhausted all the logical arguments available to him. Even if that may not be true -- for all I know, the liberal poster might have had some good points that I might have agreed with -- it certainly gives that impression. And more importantly, I will never know now if he had any good points. If I should see his user name, I'll recall petty insults and won't take much of anything he says seriously. He's no longer a potential source of information, just an embodied tantrum.

Someone asked me once, "How do you handle being at a trial where there are people punishing all around you and you know they could do better?" I answered, "Shut up and show off." I can't change people's minds against their will, and people who are stressed enough to be going off on their dogs are also not presently receptive to other information. I wait until someone is looking for another option, and then I'm happy to share what I have.

Sometimes I can't really show off. It's a clicker dog, not a robot. We have bad days, too, and I admittedly shirk training for some venues where I know I can slide by. This blog, too, is hardly good propaganda; I post a lot more about struggles than successes, probably because I spend more time thinking about the struggles. (Even as a clicker trainer, I'm still sometimes drawn to focusing on the negative!) But most of the time (not always) I try to handle failure with grace and concentrate on what is important -- yes, my dog botched an exercise, but I didn't create any additional problems with a bad reaction and I know how to fix it for next time. We'll get there.

Even if we make a mistake, I'm starting to understand, it doesn't change who we are and what we have. I don't fear that I might be wholly wrong in what I'm doing, so I don't need to be reactive.

This is NOT the same thing as not being open to learning more! In my video discussion last week, I talked about a tool which I used to espouse and no longer do. I will continue to learn and modify and grow until I die! But I'm not afraid, and that means I don't have to be aggressive.

Sometimes I see requests or comments from others who are engaged in debate with traditional trainers. I love debate. I adore matching wits and deductive skills. But it's pure logic for me; once it gets too emotional, I'm done, because I know neither side is capable of learning from the other. I can discuss rationally for a long time, but name-calling and other aggression is a sign of irrationality.

If I argue with a traditional trainer who is displaying reactivity and aggression, I am merely creating emotional baggage for that person to work through later before he can really look at anything I've said. A bad reaction in training can set back a training program hugely; the same is true in shaping a trainer to a new view.

A better way is to respectfully disagree and leave a good impression on any bystanders or spectators. If I'm on the fence, which person am I more likely to follow and ask for help -- the one breathing fire and calling names, or the one who smiles and looks comfortable (but not haughty)? (This is not a trick question -- I'm still solidly politically moderate, and the experience even reinforced my belief that most liberals are more emotional than thoughtful.)

Aggression comes from fear. Remember that. A couple of months ago I was attacked online for my religious views by someone who wrote furiously (and badly) that he had read more science and had more knowledge than ever I would in my entire life. (To my amusement, his message arrived while I was writing my conference workshop on the neuroscience of behavior modification for patients with a particular brain disorder.) I didn't feel very threatened -- but a bit of research showed he was a teen beside a philosophical crisis point, most likely confused and worried. I wasn't confused or worried; no need to be angry.

Enough pontificating; I'm going to get off my soap box now. Just remember that aggression indicates fear; what are you afraid of?

* A crash course on Twitter, if you're not familiar with it -- it is an exchange of very short messages to convey your status, a helpful tip, an advertising message, a joke, a link to web content, etc. You elect whose messages you'll see (friends, companies offering coupons, etc.) and ignore all the rest.

Saturday's Training

2009-09-07T10:47:00.002-04:00

I hadn't been tracking in a while, so of course I made a big challenge for her, right? :) Laid a track that zig-zagged over another dog's track, scented with original track, dog running track, handler, and several people following handler.

The distracting track was typical, multiple straight legs. Mine was almost entirely curved, just a few very short straights, as I'm still using serpentines nearly exclusively to help Laev focus and move more slowly. I made sure to include an article sometime after each crossing, as reinforcement; I placed seven articles in all. In fact, I was concentrating so hard on curving my serpentines unpredictably, marking my track with flags to avoid personal confusion but not give additional indicators to Laev, and placing articles, that I completely forgot to put down any of the food I'd carried while laying the track. So this tough track had no food to help, except for a few steps at the very end before the last article when I suddenly realized what I'd done.

I didn't time the aging, but I wanted it to be close to half an hour; that's when chlorophyll scent is weakest and human scent is strongest, from what I've read. Of course Laev has done crosstracks before -- we track in public parks, of COURSE there are crosstracks on even the first tracks we do! -- but this one was admittedly tougher.

Ran Laev, with people following us. She wanted to be faster, but the curves made her focus on each step and she stayed pretty good. She hesitated slightly and thought through the first crosstrack, but showed little trouble with any others. Downed promptly on all articles but one, and she hit that one when I bumped the line to interrupt her forward movement and told her to check again (blatant helping!). Not sure what happened there.

However, the single 90-degree corner that was totally clean -- no crosstracks, no articles, no known distractions -- was the one that knocked her for a loop. She actually picked her head up and gave me the "I don't get it" look. Obviously there was *something* I didn't know about, but it was astounding to see her breeze over the crosstracks and twisty weaves and then sputter out at a very simple (to me) corner. I put her back on and she found the next leg, but still!

I did not go on to protection; no bitework for Laev right now. I noticed a slight limp in a rear leg this week, and while it's stayed very mild, it hasn't gone away after several days. She and the helper slipped on wet grass last week, and it's possible she tore something then. I'm going to keep an eye on her; I hope it's nothing serious.

Where I Am

2009-08-23T00:01:00.005-04:00

It's been quite a while since our last update! I've been really crazy busy -- doing clicker seminars, costume workshops, manuscript editing, photoshoots, all kinds of stuff. I've been sleeping very little and living on caffeine -- most unusual and edgy for me! -- and while I often think of blog posts, by the time I get to a keyboard, I just check email and then collapse. Sorry; I've been inactive on most lists, too.

But Laev's been doing pretty well. We're still recovering in obedience; she's tolerating our small gunshots but has a much lower threshold on our club field still. That will continue to be our project and our nemesis for the fall trial.

Today I went to club training and took a turn walking another member's dog about. This dog isn't always comfortable with other people, and so his handler has asked others to walk him around and do simple obedience, so we were just doing as asked. The walker before me had to fuss a bit with him as he was scraping at the muzzle he wore, and we made a few jokes about the dog potentially removing the muzzle. No big deal. Then it was my turn, and as I took the dog he scraped at the muzzle again. "Look, he knows a pushover when he sees one! Amazing how they can instantly recognize who means business and who's a softie."

Now, this was the exact same behavior which had just occurred with the other walker; there was no reason to think the dog was doing anything for a different reason now. There was a time when this would have really irritated me, being labeled unjustly. But today, I just mentally noted that it was in fact the exact same behavior and went on walking, slightly surprised to realize that it didn't really bother me.

So that's where I am. I am still training Laev (though not as much as I need to be doing!) and I am still blogging, or at least thinking of blogging, but very slowly while I divide my time among far too many demands. And I am not a pushover; I am merely non-reactive. There is a very real difference (as some can tell you!). Apparently my non-reactivity is expanding slowly. Interesting.

I hope we will have time to complete our gunshot training before the fall trial. We'll see.

Live Video for Discussion, Q&A on Lure/Reward vs. Shaping: Advantages & Uses

2009-07-25T00:21:00.000-04:00

Today I experimented with a new (to me) technology, running a live video feed with open comments and questions via Twitter. I got some very nice feedback on the result, and it looks like I'll be doing this again.

You can see the archived video here: http://twitcam.com/9tp What do you think -- could this be a useful educational tool?

Pit Bull Video

2009-07-20T11:49:00.001-04:00

I discovered this video via Twitter (I'm CIA_k9s, if anyone wants to join me!) and I think it's great to see another view than what's usually hawked about the internet!

And More Progress, On Another Front. Wow.

2009-07-15T20:25:00.000-04:00

Okay, I don't have time to write up a proper update, but here's something....

This week Laev gave me quite a few proper sits during bitework, first in setting up for the blind search (which is classically hard for her) and then in heeling about and AWAY FROM the helper. In other words, exactly what we've been struggling with.

The possible solution? I went to "get her dressed" for her turn, but the previous dog took longer to finish than I anticipated and we had time to kill. So we did lots of sit-at-heel for clicks by the car, rewarding with food, with the constant lower stimulation of bitework on the field. She never failed to do it, but it was obviously harder for her in the beginning. By the time we got onto the field, however, something must have settled in her brain, because she heeled mostly nicely to set up for the blind search and then sat when cued. I clicked and handed her a last piece of food I'd kept back (surprising her, I think!) and then sent her around the blind.

After that, I split heeling away and turning to sit (as for the courage test) into finer bits, doing quarter turns and such, building up to the full 180 degrees. She isn't quite there yet, but it was loads better.

As someone else noted, "working on it on the edge of the excitement area, but not in it, and then repeating right away on the field, was the key."

Baby steps!

Woo-Hoo! Happy Dance!

2009-06-25T23:22:00.000-04:00

I just have a moment to quickly update, but this needs reported....

So, Laev can lie on the mat, chin down, comfortably resting, while I fire the cap gun right beside her. Even repeated shots. Even repeated shots, live and dry firing.

Aw yeah. :)

Lots more work to do, obviously, but we've made the first step!

I see progress -- I swear, I saw it!

2009-06-23T02:32:00.001-04:00

So, as mentioned previously, I finally deduced that Laev has developed an anxious response to gunfire, though she displayed not trouble at all with it in her early life. Knowing where it came from doesn't help, but I told myself that what was learned can be unlearned and started a new path. My goal was to teach Laev to relax herself and slowly introduce gunfire.

This was easier said than done, of course. My first attempt to install a conditioned relaxer, by pairing a verbal cue with a naturally relaxed (sleepy) state, just didn't take. Laev sleepy is not Laev relaxed, it is Laev sleepy. When Laev is aroused, she's not going to go sleepy. Ain't gonna happen.

So I tried matwork, a la Control Unleashed, Laev had done matwork before, of course, but it was always infused with the thrill of training. She could be still on the mat, but not relaxed, and not always even still (as described in a previous post). I persisted, swapping to a different clicker. (It was suggested to me that I use a verbal marker instead of the exciting clicker, but I knew I needed the split-second timing a clicker afforded to capture Laev's minute muscle extensions. The Clicker+ was familiar enough to recognize but different enough that it didn't spark the same kind of excitement in my dog. Your mileage may vary.) Gradually, I got Laev to relax onto a mat.

Feeling pleased with myself, I introduced the gun. I'd bought a cap gun, keeping noise and gunpowder scent while reducing the intensity of both. Within a few days, I was able to fire the gun while Laev lay on her mat and then present her with her supper, without Laev bolting into the hinterlands with displacement activity. I was so happy.

The next day, I sent Laev to her mat and dry-fired the gun (no cap, no bang, just a hammer click). Laev couldn't handle it, began wandering restlessly about. Displacement activity. Stink. We'd had success, but we got it too fast and it didn't have enough foundation.

Back to relaxation on the mat... I learned that she could hold the mat for two or three dry-fires each followed by individual clicks and treats, but even if successful and reinforced she was then over threshold and couldn't stay through the next. It's very frustrating, because her stress signs are SO VERY SUBTLE and I have a very hard time identifying her threshold. Back to work.

And a change of venue. One thing I'd noticed is that Laev had definitely associated gunfire with geographic location. She could hold a lovely 10 minute long down on one side of the field, where we never practiced those, but got twitchy after 30 seconds in our usual trial down location. So tonight I took the mat to club training and threw it down in the front yard, where we've done little work and no gunfire. Laev was initially interested in the local wildlife but after a couple of moments settled nicely, resting her chin on the mat and waiting for her click. (The chin rest starts as "faking it," not real relaxation, but like method acting, she does start to relax after a moment of practice.)

When Laev was nicely stable, I took the cap gun from my pocket, held it to one side, and dry-fired. Laev kept her head on the mat. Click/treat. Repeat.

I worked for a while, trying to ride the threshold. If Laev moved at all when I dramatically presented the gun to one side, I simply replaced it behind my back. No dry-fire, but no treat. But it worked wonderfully. I called a friend over, whose dog was also having gunfire issues. "Look! I just want someone to watch this and verify that it really happened!" I brought out the gun and dry-fired once, twice, thrice, at five second intervals. Laev kept her chin on the mat and her muscles loose. "Look! It really did happen!"

/happy dance/

I wanted to carry some of this relaxed success to the field, loaded with all sorts of emotions. But I didn't want to let myself get greedy, so I deliberately put the gun back in the car before we trekked out to the field. Went to the trial honor down location and dropped the--

WHOA! Laev lit up and a jillion volts of electricity spattered everywhere. There was something in the tall grass beside the field, and she was standing on her hind legs against the leash, too jazzed even to vocalize in her intensity. I haven't seen that much from her in a while; this was something much more important than a rabbit. Coyotes? I held on, somehow dropped the mat, and gradually manipulated her backward with the leash, asking her to down (I knew she was incapable of looking for the mat). She did, but she was too buzzed to bother with treats. I started pegging her with treats as I clicked, knowing that if it actively bounced off her body, she'd turn and eat it. After a moment this worked, and she started giving me quick glances between turning back to the field. From there, it was a long road to shape relaxation, but that was my goal.

Good thing I'd left the gun behind; my goal here was just to get a semblance of matwork!

We were doing pretty well, actually, and we probably just went too long. Laev suddenly flipped a switch from mostly stable to leaping off the mat and lunging toward the field again. Again I blocked with the leash, brought her back, and started working slowly toward self-control. It took quite a while, but I'm pleased to report that Laev finished the session with her chin between her front paws and her hips rocked to one side, which is pretty darn impressive for her non-sleepy mode and near miraculous for her predatory mode.

I put Laev away and returned to where club members had gathered to start bitework. "Was Laev getting dirty?" one asked me with a grin. "Is that why she had a mat?"

I only smiled. "That's her security blanket."

And it is, in a way. When she can handle actual shots again on the mat, we'll fade it, but for now, I am very happy with what we accomplished tonight.

Scales & Tails

2009-06-16T23:25:00.001-04:00

I was extremely proud of Laev on Saturday. We attended an event called Scales & Tails at our state museum, where Laev worked nicely among LOTS of dogs, cats, ferrets, raptors, lizards, snakes, and the public. I was very, very happy with her self-control around the kittens in training (who helped by staying nice and calm), even when they were inches from her nose (never loose!).

She did a couple of demos on training, nothing fancy. We showed how to teach nose targeting and then how to use that to get loose leash walking and easy handling for vet exams and nail trims. The kittens showed beginning cat training (just nose targeting; they'd come from a shelter only two days before and weren't far along) and Shakespeare happily volunteered behavior for audience members who got to try shaping for the first time.

When we first entered the building, Laev got a bit overwhelmed by the crush of excited dogs and people. I glanced down as we were en route to our area and saw her quiet, but hackled. (Remember hackles can be simple arousal as well as fear-aggression!) We paused, I spoke briefly to her, she glanced up and gave me a wag, and the hackles went down. Off to our spot, and she was fine all day after that. I didn't give her a chance to get riled about the kittens (she had not seen them before) which were crated next to her; I took her from her crate, immediately clicked her for looking into the kitten crate and noting them but BEFORE she could get excited, and quickly got her looking at the kittens as a visual target. She offered a down and glanced happily but calmly at the kittens. Yay!

Overall, good behavior at the museum.

That night, however, Laev depressed me during our training session. She had MUCH better things to do than recall from distractions. Finally got her working, but ugh. Still in remedial school on some things!

When CU goes wrong, or, my nutty dog :-)

2009-06-09T23:53:00.001-04:00

I put Shakespeare in a crate with a chew (which, offended, he did not deign to eat) and Inky in another with a chew (which she ate) and kept Laev out for a training session. I had two exercises in mind.

1) open her mouth, with a big "say Ahh" movement
2) relax on a mat in preparation for gunshot desensitization

I'd started the open mouth idea a full year ago, but I'd not worked very hard on it and hadn't kept it up. No reason to. Now, however, I suddenly need to fill more time at our demos this weekend, and Laev needs a cute trick. So back to the open mouth game. I'd done one session on it last night, just enough to remind her that jaw movement works for clicks. (It's very hard getting jaw movement with no vocalization!)

It would be very wrong to say that Laev doesn't do much with her mouth; Laev is quite oral. But she doesn't lick or kiss or pant like most other dogs on the planet. Seriously, I generally see her pant only during summer bitework or after mile 10 on the AD. It's not even a common stress signal for her. So it was bizarre when I sat down to start our open-mouth session and she was panting.

Not really panting, after a moment. Just sitting there with her mouth open. Did she actually remember the open mouth? I didn't think so; she was just "stuck" that way. This was not as good as it sounded -- I couldn't click her opening her mouth!

So I abandoned that project and went to the other side of the couch, where I set out a mat. Laev parked promptly, but I wanted to shape her into relaxing. I clicked for chin down, etc., but she was faking. She wasn't relaxed, she was working the click system.

It took a long while before I could click a hip flop. As I clicked, she immediately popped back into a sphinx down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. She tried the other direction. Cool! Mom will click either hip flop! Watch me work both of them!

Finally I got her stable for a few seconds. She looked at me, lying on one hip, and gave me a big open mouth. And another. Way better than before.

I don't want to click the wrong behavior in the wrong place. Back to the couch and clicking for open mouth.

Laev started getting the open mouth, offering it more regularly. (Never as good as on the mat!) She had some superstitious body movement too, but I can live with that; it's just a silly trick. I decide that we're not going to have time to finish the full open mouth and hold before Saturday, so I'll go with an open/close/open/close movement and call it something to do with "goldfish." :-)

Back to the mat, on the other side of the room. Laev starts working the hip flops, never actually relaxing, just trolling for clicks. I stop clicking hip flops and click only what can be accomplished with muscle extensions -- legs extending, head lowering, ears relaxing, etc. In theory, this should relax the dog.

I just had a FABULOUS session yesterday with a dog in this. This fear-aggressive boy used to aggress at dogs across the street; relaxed on his mat, he was able to lie quietly and calmly while Shakespeare did happy treat dances back and forth about 15' away. I was thrilled with his progress, and in theory I know the concept of shaping relaxation on the mat.

But not with Laev. Determined to make me click, she started throwing everything she could think of at me -- crossing and uncrossing her front paws, flopping from one hip to another, raising and lowering her chin, and opening her mouth repeatedly. ALL AT ONCE. She looked like some sort of demented Rube Goldberg device. I couldn't help laughing, but we were not getting relaxation on the mat.

Finally got an instant of stillness, clicked and threw the treat off the mat, and let her reset. Clicked and treated for stillness. Not relaxed, but at least less like a steam engine about to explode.

Back to the couch and the open mouth, where I started adding a cue. We don't have the behavior anywhere near stimulus control yet, but I think it'll be good enough to fake for Saturday's demos.

Back to the mat. I settled for clicking for a hip flop and chin rest, though she was faking. She wasn't really lying still, not in her brain. She was ready to launch if I asked!

So... yeah. She's not nervous on the mat, but she's not relaxed. We have a way to go. :)

Bad Dog!

2009-05-29T10:19:00.001-04:00

I wanted to do some training, so I pulled a bag full of chopped treats from the freezer. The treats were of course frozen together, so I left them on the counter to thaw a bit.... This was my preferred training treat bag, with a waistband and a French hinge and a little pocket for my clicker storage.

My mother pulled into my driveway, and I went out to see what she wanted. I was standing on the porch talking when I heard what sounded like a click. And then another. And then another click. Yes, those were definitely clicks.

I turned and peeked through the window! "Get off of there, you mutt!" I laughed. Laev had jumped onto the counter and (probably) whacked the treat bag, activating the clicker. Marked, she had then happily reinforced herself from the bag. She was now merrily clicking and eating (though I don't know how much of the clicking was still intentional by the time I noticed).

Laev, reproofed but happy to see me, moved away from the treat bag and peered through the window, wagging. "No, all the way off," I pressed, and she dropped back to the floor. I should have been more outraged, but the idea of her clicking herself for getting on the counter was kind of funny in a bad-dog way.

We Survived.

2009-05-19T11:32:00.001-04:00

Well, I made the right choice. Laev bombed her track on Saturday, which was I think part loaded-for-failure (as I said, we weren't going in good shape) and far more lack of preparation. She's tracked another person only three times in her life, and she triple-checked the start of the track, which is very unusual for her, so I knew she was uncertain. Once she got off the track, she kept casting as requested, and I could see a slight hesitation as she crossed the track -- but she was looking for my scent in a field where I'd never been.

I wasn't upset; why worry that my dog didn't do something I hadn't trained her to do? We track over other people and crosstracks all the time, and Laev has learned to look for my scent among others. I need to enlist other tracklayers, and Laev will get it quickly. I'm not worried.

More importantly, I've had time to think about re-training. Laev is talking to me again ;-) in that she played with me on the training field (no gunfire) and, while not nearly where she was, is performing her obedience with more enthusiasm. I also set her up for two long downs, traditionally her worst exercise (because *I* hate training duration), and she never offered to budge, even when a loose dog headed for her and made her tighten anxiously. (The dog was called off before reaching her.) I think part of that success was a change in location on the field; there was no history of gunfire in that long down geography. But it's something I can use.

Those on the Ground Have No Fear of Falling.

2009-05-15T21:47:00.006-04:00

So... yeah.

A couple of weeks ago, I realized that Laev had a gunfire problem. A real gunfire problem, not just the minor twitch I thought we had. It's tough with Laev; she doesn't show stress very obviously, and it's not until extremes that she starts to look as bad as she is. Where other dogs will be whining, panting, showing the whites of the eyes, or raising a paw, Laev flattens her ears and pulls back the corner of her mouth only. It's easy to miss. Then something goes wrong, and I wonder, "Where did that come from?"

There's also a consistent delay, because Laev really does have a nice work ethic, and she will try to continue for a while before things collapse. This is why Laev twitched at the gunfire in December but didn't break the heel until about 20 seconds later. This, I have gradually realized, is a regular pattern. Okay, I'm slow.

So I felt really stupid when I finally realized that her two major stressors in a trial were the reporting in (her first experience involved a dogfight) and the gunfire. Those can come in quick succession in a trial. She never used to have a gunfire issue, which is probably why I wasn't paying close attention, but we have a neighbor at home who likes target practice and I think he's done some sessions while Laev was trapped in her kennel, unable to escape the hours of ceaseless, intermittent shots, and she's now sensitized.

No problem, I thought naively. I borrowed a starter pistol and enlisted an assistant. I'd just have him fire a number of shots as we heeled and I'd reinforce heeling with me, and then we'd be fine!

I tried to split, I really did. But Laev does not react to recorded gunfire, only the real thing -- and it looks like distance is not necessarily a factor once she is sensitized. All I did was poison my cue, confirming for her that heeling with me predicted gunfire; she very quickly became so reactive that she'd jump just at the sound of a box clicker.

I left town for four days, which gave her time to flush the stress chemical cocktail from her system (takes about three days to purge so that the dog is starting with a clean slate). When I came back, I was able to heel her at club training with two gunshots, and she didn't have a panic reaction. She did, however, show me subtle signs of stress. "I didn't see anything, she looked fine," said most of the club, but I knew that if I'd pushed, I would have lost her again.

So today I went out for one final practice, after working a while without gunfire. Our trial judge, already in town, came to watch and offered his opinion: I was not firm enough with the dog. She broke not because she was afraid of the gunfire -- "look, her tail is wagging, she's fine" -- but because I had not taught her to "down or die."

I broke down, to my complete horror, and there is NOTHING more shameful than crying in front of a training director and a German judge. It's like crying in boot camp. Seriously, I should turn in my gear now. (The only thing worse is crying with sinus issues, which I had, making it all even more sniffly and gruesome.) I explained that though I wasn't going to sound rational now, I had rationally thought about this, and a week before the dog was shaking and crying during gunfire, so I knew it was a gunfire stress issue, I suspected where it had come from (the judge agreed with me there) and that I knew my dog well enough to know that she was stressed, though she didn't look typical. (Really, a wagging tail can certainly be a stress indicator as much as a happiness indicator! Look how many people get bitten and protest, "but his tail was wagging"!) He conceded that perhaps I did know my dog to know that she was upset, but that the issue was not the reactivity, but her lack of respect for me as a handler. It's good to love my dog, he said, but I had to force control.

My club friend had more immediate advice. "Don't take it so personally! It's a frickin' dog." He grinned.

"It's my frickin' dog!" I answered, but I took his point -- I shouldn't take it personally that Laev is sensitive. I blame myself for utterly destroying her training and I do get upset that she can't just trust me for five minutes, but I shouldn't think of it that way; I should think of it as a chance to improve her. Right after I get done destroying her training.

I know these people are experienced and are offering advice that has worked for them and others, but Laev and I don't work like that. He said that if Laev breaks the down to come to me during gunfire, I should require her to heel to punish her for the error. Heeling should be something she doesn't like to do. But I think heeling should be something Laev wants to do! and it should be a reward, not a punishment. And it used to be something she liked, before I destroyed years of training in just a few sessions by linking heeling and her trigger. /facepalm/

"There is no other way," he told me. And he believes it. So do my club friends, who all mean the best.

I believe there is another way. I have been told so many times, by so many people, that I will never get X without force. I've heard that it is impossible to train something the way I say I did. Yes, it may take me longer sometimes, because I don't really know what I'm doing 'til I've done it, but not having a map doesn't mean it's impossible to get there.

I hate being in disagreement with people who are trying to help me. I'm not trying to be unreasonable, and I'm not trying to be rude; I'm trying to do something I want to do. I know it's different than what they want, and sometimes I think that others think I'm judging them because I'm doing something different. But the truth is, I'm trying something here. I've never said I'm an expert -- heck, I just said I don't have the map! But that doesn't mean I can't try, right?

More, I have an ideal. I refuse to be the lesser of two evils -- if I have to force my dog to work with me, then it's no longer a game I'm interested in. Laev used to prance along with me to the field, even volunteering heeling en route -- today she was reluctant to work with me at all. That's not right; I miss being her first choice. If Laev heels or downs because it's that "or die," then I've lost sight of the reason I got a dog in the first place. We're a team; we'll get through this together.

Somehow. Honest. I'm pretty sure. I'd like to think so.

Anyway, I've changed her entry. We're going to just do a track only tomorrow morning. And it probably won't go well -- stressed dog, mega-stressed handler, thunderstorms all night and through the morning, and I don't know if the tornado watch will still be in effect during tracking -- but who cares? Those on the ground are not afraid of falling, and we can't get much lower. I'm going to support my club trial and support my trialing friends, and then I'm going to step back and do some serious evaluation.

I just wish I didn't feel like I had let down my friends, my dog, my training colleagues, and everyone who had wished us luck for this weekend. I'm supposed to know better, I'm supposed to get results. I hate having expectations.

UDC Report: A New Tracking Title

2009-05-01T18:13:00.000-04:00

Now don't get excited; it wasn't that great a performance.

It's the penultimate day of UDC Nationals. The day started well, though, in that we weren't having the thunderstorms originally predicted. We left the hotel parking lot at technical sunrise and drove an hour to a horse farm, where we laid tracks on hayfields. The grass was much longer than I'd been using, and it was thoroughly wet. My pants, shoes, and socks were all squishy soaked by the time I set my flag. (You can blame the USPS for my lack of moisture-appropriate gear.)

The judge didn't let my track age as long as was legal, which is normally appreciated by competitors. I'd been working Laev on older tracks, however, and I worried that the fresh vegetation scent would be too strong to require much focus from her. As it turns out, that wasn't our problem.

No, Laev walked out into that field and lit up. "THERE ARE PREY ANIMALS HERE," she thought. She spent the first few minutes hackled with arousal and quivering, tail up, as I waited for the final aging of the track and the discussions between judge, translator, and assistants. I stroked Laev, trying to calm her and get her more into a tracking frame of mind, and while I got her hackles down and her tail less rigid, I did not succeed in getting her really calm. She hit the initial scentpad like gravel down a chute.

The track was fresh and easy; she could trail along it easily while thinking of other things. She went back and forth across the footsteps regularly. She did manage to corner correctly. The judge said in his critique that I had helped her on the corners with the line, but that's not so; because of my lack of depth perception, I know darned well that I can't correctly identify a corner from more than 30' away, and I won't risk correcting a dog who's probably more correct than my correction. Still, I'm not arguing; I probably was tugging on the line as I tried to keep her at subsonic speed. I was tempted to run along behind her!

Laev left the track by just over a body length on the second leg to pounce on something in the grass. Apparently she was unsuccessful, because after a moment of browsing, she returned to the track without prompting and continued on -- missing the first article entirely due to her detour. She cornered and settled in on the third leg, as if suddenly recalling that we were here to track! She was much more stable then and downed promptly, if crookedly, on the second article. I had to dig it out of the deep grass; she had absolutely been scenting it properly, as it was pretty deep.

Baaaarely a pass, with 70 points. I wouldn't have been surprised if we'd failed; we are capable of much, much better than that. We started back after our critique and promptly flushed a bunny, exciting Laev again. Was another rabbit what had distracted her earlier?

"Judge refused to accept bunny as article," I reported via the power of mobile technology, "but we passed by the skin of our teeth."

"By a hare?" came the text reply.

Yeah, my friends are like that. ;-)

Back to the trial field for BHs. Laev served as the neutral dog for the traffic testing. I watched the WH (watchdog test) for the first time, and I wished I'd registered for it; I think Laev could have done it and had fun. Maybe I'll ask my club to train for it.

So Laev now has a T1 tacked onto her name, though it was a near thing. We'll try to do better next time!

A View of Councillor Speedy's letter on Breed-Specific Legislation

2009-04-23T22:01:00.023-04:00

Councilman Mike Speedy has sent an open letter in response to protests of his breed-specific “at-risk dogs” proposal. I thank him for this, because it is perhaps the clearest indication yet offered of his motivations and thoughts in this process. Here are my observations on his excerpted letter; the letter in its entirety can be read below.

Dear Colleagues and Community Leaders,

Note that this letter does not address veterinarians, behavior professionals, nor even the animal shelter executives who wrote to oppose his proposal (whose quoted letter was still attached to Speedy's response). Councilman Speedy is apparently not only disinterested in expert opinion, but disinterested in even conversing with those who work daily in this field.

That’s a rather harsh statement from me; I don’t usually dismiss people so quickly. But we’ll look at Councilman Speedy’s "public discussion" in a moment, which will explain my assumption.

We are now living in a city where one of its citizens could be severely mauled or killed at any moment by a dog, someone’s pet. This due to continued abusive conditions & overpopulation surrounding one small group of breeds.

At any moment, eh? Shall we look at the statistics?

The old line about “lies, damned lies, and statistics” has even more relevance in an arena with such obvious emotional connections; it seems everyone has an opinion on dog bite numbers. The Center for Disease Control tracked dog bites and breeds for a time but abandoned the process, concluding that the numbers accumulated were not an accurate indicator of risk (due to both incomplete data and inaccurate breed reporting).

It is both significant and disgusting that while the CDC itself warns their incomplete statistics are not to be used in policy decisions, many still do cite these statistics in their efforts to limit certain breeds or types of dog. Yet the CDC itself recommends a non-breed-specific approach to controlling bite risk in communities. Funny how Speedy and his sources missed that in their research, though it’s on the very same page as the statistics they would like to quote.

But, to the numbers. The CDC reports an average of 16 dog-bite fatalities a year. This includes what may be called human-induced attacks, such as the abandonment of an infant in a dog yard or where the owner was convicted of murder using the dog as a weapon. It seems to me that sixteen deaths a year, in a country of well over 300 million people and over 70 million dogs, is the kind of “at any moment” risk I can comfortably live with.

In fact, a quick browse of the CDC site shows that an average of 15 children a year die on playground equipment. Yes, the risk of playground-related death is approximately that of dog-related death; where are the proposals to limit playgrounds and publicly vilify homeowners with swings (the most dangerous piece of home equipment, statistically speaking) in their yard? And over 15,000 older adults die each year from falling; what about them? That seems much nearer a risk of “at any moment” than a dog attack.

But wait, Speedy or another may protest. There are more to dog bites than just fatalities; in all, about 386,000 bites a year require emergency treatment.

Yes, in fact, 20% of reported dog bites require medical attention. But again, let’s keep things in perspective – about 45% of reported playground injuries are considered “severe” (fractures, internal injuries, concussions, dislocations, and amputations).

I’m not belittling the problem. About 31,000 people a year do require plastic surgery after a dog bite. I was one of them, after receiving a bite to the face and throat. While that's hardly a risk of "at any moment," I do consider dog bites a serious issue, and as a canine behavior professional I do work to minimize that risk to others. But as a behavior professional, I know that bite risk is not a breed issue.

It seems to many there is an institutional rationalization of inhumane treatment toward pit bulls from the animal welfare community. Pit bull advocates have been giving their all for the last 10 years to pit bull specific spay/neuter, adoption, outreach and training programs with little progress. It is time that we admit as a community they need our legislative help. They are unable to achieve the needed results solely by voluntary programs. And as I have come to learn, pit bull type dogs warrant and deserve laws that provide them with extra protection.

Aw, how sweet – this is for the dogs! We want to protect the dogs!

But wait a minute. How would this law possibly protect a pit bull? Under this law, these dogs would be publicly labeled a risk, possibly limiting proper training and socialization opportunities. How will requiring a posted warning to passersby that the government considers this dog genetically vicious (without scientific support) possibly protect a dog from abuse? How would mandatory spay/neuter keep a dog from being abused, exactly?

It’s much easier to justify the abuse of a “bad dog.”

Imagine, just for a moment, that Councilman Speedy’s proposal addressed not dogs, but demographics. These particular young people, say, face many challenges –- broken homes, pressures from gangs, temptations of drugs and alcohol –- and many of them fall into crime. Because of these challenging circumstances, it is suggested that they wear badges indicating they are “at-risk youth.” Imagine the outcry! There would be shrieks of Nazism and witchhunt and more, all with good reason –- such an action would further splinter those youth, making it nearly impossible for them to integrate with mainstream society. Discrimination would be easily justified as the government condoned mistrust and segregation. How could holding these subjects apart possibly help them to be treated normally and with respect?

In the same way, I predict more trouble for labeled dogs. I see this as an opportunity for those who already abuse the pit bull to strengthen their position – “See, even the city fears our dogs, so now we’re really tough! Now I can post the government sign as an even more obvious status symbol!” And so the city, under the guise of protecting these under-socialized, untrained, fear-aggressive dogs, in fact furthers their inhumane treatment.

What a splendid way for our children to learn to judge appearance, not character.

Note, too, that there is no provision in this “dog-protecting” proposal for responsible owners with dogs for the right reasons. I snapped this photo of a pit bull service dog at one of my costume conventions, working quietly among 15,000 strangers. Councilman Speedy wants this dog to be advertised a risk to the public, wants this handicapped owner to warn the public away from and to pay for extra insurance coverage for what is legally her medical equipment. This Staffordshire Bull Terrier, a local certified therapy dog who lives with a handicapped individual, would also be posted as a risk to the public. Anyone competing in dog shows with any “pit bull type” breeds is simply out of luck – there are no exceptions for dogs which should not be spayed or neutered for competition or responsible breeding.

(Note: the Staffordshire Bull Terrier, while specifically listed by name in Speedy’s proposal, has NOT ONE documented fatal bite incident recorded in published statistics. Not one. Stellar research, guys, showing just how factually-based this proposal is.)

Here’s what this proposal does NOT include for the dogs’ protection –- prosecution for animal cruelty, prosecution for illegal dog fighting, prosecution for the use of dogs as weapons, prosecution for animal neglect. “The pit bull is the most abused breed in America and in Indianapolis” –- Speedy admits that pit bulls face a horrific chance of abuse due to the breed’s macho image, and yet his response is to attack responsible owners who are already doing the right thing.

Speedy’s showcase event, the tragic attack on Brenda Hill resulting in the loss of her leg, would not likely have been much different if these restrictions had been in effect. The owner of those dogs did not have adequate fencing, did not have medical care for the dogs, did not regard the existing animal laws. The dogs had previously bitten, without change in the way the dogs were handled or trained. Why would we expect him to behave differently for this law?

I agree that it’s tough to get at the root of the problem – drug rings using dogs to guard labs and drug houses, dogfight gambling for profit and money laundering, gang wars – but that’s the real root of the problem. I often ask, if these people are already committing felonies, why do we think they’ll change their behavior for a little dog law? Really?

Also, the tactics used to portray unified opposition have been unbecoming. They have pressured, arm-twisted and where needed, resorted to character attacks.... They do not want a public discussion offering alternative, effective solutions.

Let’s talk about reasonable public discussion, shall we? (For those keeping track, this is where I finally decided that Councilman Speedy was simply not interested in education or discussion, no matter what he claims.)

Councilman Speedy claims that, “Opponents to the At Risk Dog proposal agree ... that a breed specific solution is needed.” This is wholly untrue, ignoring the many voices which claim that any dog can bite, that citizens deserve to be protected from dangerous dogs of any breed, and that the existing dangerous dog laws should be more stringently enforced. In fact, what prompted Councilman Speedy’s open letter was a plea for the council to put aside this breed-specific proposal while animal welfare groups drafted an alternate plan which would address dangerous dogs of any breed and welfare for every breed.

Perhaps Councilman Speedy misunderstood the letter? Let's look:

"The Humane Society of Indianapolis and the entire animal welfare community cited by name on our attached position statement is completely opposed to ANY BSL ordinance and will adamantly work to defeat any such ordinance."

That bold print is original. No, I don't think he could have been mistaken. This letter was still attached to Councilman Mike Speedy's reply-all response -- why would he pretend there is unanimous support for breed-specific legislation? Does he think his constituents are really that stupid?

Next, let’s examine the “public discussion” which Councilman Speedy wants. His only public citation for his pit bull data is dogsbite.org, whose “study” is admittedly merely a survey of media stories -– not data from behaviorists, animal control officers, medical personnel, trainers, veterinarians, or experts of any kind.

Why aren't news stories accepted as reliable data? Because they’re not reliable. Media inaccuracy is one reason the CDC gave up collecting statistics; news reporters are not trained to identify breeds and:

“attacks by one breed are more newsworthy than attacks by other breeds.... [incidents] may be differentially ascribed to breeds with a reputation for aggression” (http://www.cdc.gov/HomeandRecreationalSafety/images/dogbreeds-a.pdf).

The National Canine Research Council has preserved just a few inaccurate reports with photos.

Anyone familiar with the psychology experiment in which witnesses reported a knife stabbing (while the “weapon” was actually a banana) knows how preconceptions can color perceptions. We expect to see a knife instead of a fruit because we’ve heard of stabbings; we expect to see a pit bull instead of a Labrador because that’s the popular image of a vicious dog. (Have you noticed how most media-reported dog bites cite purebreds -– almost never mixed breeds or unidentified types?)

So dogsbite.org uses news stories, a source deemed unreliable by the CDC due to bias, as their sole data source for their report to support more media bias. This would be laughable were it not so serious. With the validity of this false study already in question, now let’s look at the “public discussion” available at dogsbite.org, Councilman Speedy’s preferred source. Here are just a few of the many “Acts that Evoke Being Banned” (italics are mine):

– The DogsBite.org Forum is Not Intended for Pit Bull Advocates. (The forum is for promotion of anti-pit bull material only; discussion not permitted.)
--Denying the genetic heritage of the pit bull breed will not be tolerated. (Disagreeing that pit bulls are inherently and genetically vicious will result in banning. Scientific discussion of genotype versus phenotype is not permitted.)
--Falsely representing yourself as a supporter of DogsBite.org will not be tolerated (Forum members must toe the party line –- dissension will result in banning.)
–New users should participate immediately upon joining. If one has not posted a message with a few days or week upon joining, you will automatically be banned. This activity is called "trolling." We must ban all new members that appear to be trollers to protect our active member discussion. (Aside from the inaccurate language –- “troll” means something else entirely –- this tidies the forum nicely for the promotion of anti-pit bull material only. You must post to be a member, and you may post only the site's views or be banned. Why exactly does merely reading endanger active member discussion? No, I couldn't think of a reason, either.)

"Pressuring and arm-twisting," indeed.

So to review –- Councilman Speedy’s only cited data comes from a pseudo-study consisting of non-expert accounts collected by those with a stated bias –- not admitted under any academic standard. The CDC and other reputable organizations specifically urge that dangerous dog legislation exclude breed-specific language. Why, then, are we wasting time and money in drafting a new law instead of enforcing the laws on the books –- laws which could have prevented several of the high-profile attacks in recent years, had they been enforced?

I am committed to moving forward with the attached proposal. I’m sure it can be improved with the thoughtful insight of reasonable people. I welcome that.

Given that Speedy has endorsed dogsbite.org, which has a certain reputation among animal professionals and whose bias and unreliability have been reviewed above, and given that he very specifically lied regarding unanimous agreement on breed-specific measures, I rather doubt that he is open to insight from reasonable people. He has already chosen suspect data over expert observations and recommendations from the Center for Disease Control, the American Veterinary Medical Association, the Humane Society of the United States, and more. I wish I believed he would welcome open discussion; I want to reduce bite risk as much as anyone.

But here’s a serious suggestion -– let’s enforce the laws on the books. We already have leash laws, animal cruelty laws, vicious dog laws. Quite a few of these horrific attacks came from dogs previously cited for dangerous behavior or owners with a history of dangerous dog behavior. Let’s be fair in our approach –- if the city plans to vilify the owner of a show dog or therapy dog or service dog, will they also knock on the door of the gang with the pit bulls chained out front? Why not just deal with the gang directly and leave the good owners alone?

I continue to learn about this crucial, public safety issue and the plight of the Indy pit bull. It is unacceptable in this great city for people to live in fear or at risk of being killed or seriously mauled at any moment by a dog, or to continue to institutionally rationalize inhumane treatment of pit bulls.

I agree entirely, Councilman Speedy. I really do. Dog bite risk should be minimized, and it is utterly unacceptable for animals to be abused. I would very much support the enforcement of existing laws and the empowerment of Animal Control officers and police to crack down on dog fight rings, etc. No dog, not even a pit bull, should have to live on a chain or in a tiny pen, in hunger, without social comfort, in pain from fight wounds, in fear of abuse, without hope. No reasonable person should blame an animal for a human’s cruelty.

Can we really expect that by removing pit bulls, these abusive owners will give up their abusive ways? That they will not flaunt the law and keep their abused pit bulls anyway, or that they won’t simply select another breed and do the same? Shouldn’t we address the real issues?

If you are interested in working with me, please let me know. What we accomplish together for At Risk Dogs could easily augment and empower the Animal Welfare Summit in full stride.

This grammar point is telling. After his suggestion that all pit bull types be automatically labeled “Dangerous Dogs” drew such protest, Councilman Speedy amended his proposal to call them “At Risk Dogs.” This is truer than he meant; pit bulls are the dogs most at risk here. Councilman Speedy admits that pit bulls face unimaginable abuse and his response is to blame the breed and label them. There is no mention anywhere of holding abusive owners responsible for their inhumane actions.

I want to include this except from the book Fatal Dog Attacks, a study of both statistics and the stories behind them. It is the author’s conclusion after researching the data behind fatal pit bull attacks that the breed is no more inherently dangerous than another, but that the human factor is the real issue.

“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.” – Mohandas Gandhi (1869-1948)

If we, as a society, are to be judged by our treatment of Pit Bulls, we will all surely be damned.

...The phrase “the Pit Bull problem” is used here not as an indication that we as a society have a problem with Pit Bulls; it is meant as a reference to the problem Pit Bulls have with our society. And the problem is shocking. For the past 20 years, Pit Bulls have been subjected to cruelty, abuse and mistreatment to a degree and on a scale that no other breed in recent history has ever had to endure.

The stories are brutal and sickeningly common. Dogs are tortured, teased and abused in hopes of making them mean. Dogs are pitted against each other in fights. Those refusing to fight or who lose are horribly killed or left to die in alleyways. Dogs carry huge chains and padlocks around their necks and live in squalor. Inexorably intermingled in these cruel pursuits are drugs, guns, and theft. People from the worse segments of our society seek these animals out to guard drug houses, intimidate other gang members, thwart police action and enhance their vacuous self-esteem. Any real or imagined viciousness on the part of the Pit Bull breeds pales in comparison to the brutality, callous disrespect for life, and inhumanity of many of their owners.

The commonality and level of cruelty of so many of these cases is what should be shocking to us as a society. But we do not become outraged until a Pit Bull kills a child; then our outrage and shock at the “viciousness” of this breed is loud and clear. How much easier it is to dismiss this as a breed problem! Addressing the real issues of crime, poverty, animal abuse, ignorance, greed, and man’s lust for violence is far too daunting a task for most people and so we blame the dogs for our societal ills.

[Stories, examples, statistics cut] ...The treatment, behavior and condition of the Pit Bull in today’s society is a reflection of the cruel innernature and inhumanity of our species; it has almost nothing to do with dogs.

And so, please, Councilman Speedy –- your goals are worthy and your assessment of the abuse of pit bull types is accurate. But the answer is not to blame the dogs; they are but a tool. I urge you to please increase enforcement of existing animal cruelty laws and dangerous dog laws, and to crack down on those crimes which rely upon the use and abuse of pit bulls to flourish. The problem is not in the look of a dog; it’s not that simple.

Denver, Colorado enacted draconian breed-specific legislation after a highly-publicized attack, seizing hundreds of pet pit bulls for destruction and driving many owners outside of city limits with their pets. Oddly enough, however, Denver has three times per capita the bite incidents of nearby Boulder, which has no breed restrictions. The Denver laws affected responsible owners, not the abusers, and the resulting false sense of security belied the fact that the problem remained, even after the punishment of citizens and dogs who had done no wrong.

An often-asked question is what breed or breeds of dogs are most “dangerous”? This inquiry can be prompted by a serious attack by a specific dog, or it may be the result of media-driven portrayals of a specific breed as “dangerous.” Although this is a common concern, singling out 1 or 2 breeds for control can result in a false sense of accomplishment. Doing so ignores the true scope of the problem and will not result in a responsible approach to protecting a community’s citizens. (A community approach to dog bite prevention, American Veterinary Medical Association Task Force on Canine Aggression and Human-Canine Interactions)

Please, let’s not fall back on the unscientific premise that looks define behavior. Let’s deal with the real causes of the problem, not the symptoms, and let’s enforce the neglected laws already on the books.

Original letter:

Dear Colleagues and Community Leaders,

With all due respect to Mr. Aleshire and select members of the animal welfare community, this is first and foremost a public safety issue and a specific dog issue. I applaud the effort to form the Animal Welfare Summit, but human welfare views need to be included and proactive legislative tools adopted & implemented in concert therewith. We are now living in a city where one of its citizens could be severely mauled or killed at any moment by a dog, someone’s pet. This due to continued abusive conditions & overpopulation surrounding one small group of breeds.

Keep in mind, no other “bad rap” breeds such as the Rottweiler, Doberman or German Shepherd ever endured more than 20+ years of abuse, torture, neglect, dog fighting, and less desire to adopt from the public. It seems to many there is an institutional rationalization of inhumane treatment toward pit bulls from the animal welfare community. Pit bull advocates have been giving their all for the last 10 years to pit bull specific spay/neuter, adoption, outreach and training programs with little progress. It is time that we admit as a community they need our legislative help. They are unable to achieve the needed results solely by voluntary programs. And as I have come to learn, pit bull type dogs warrant and deserve laws that provide them with extra protection.

Also, the tactics used to portray unified opposition have been unbecoming. They have pressured, arm-twisted and where needed, resorted to character attacks. They have degraded, silenced and shoved aside many in the animal welfare community who have differing opinions or have given their professional lives to pit bulls and elected officials who see it as their number one duty to protect people. They do not want a public discussion offering alternative, effective solutions.

I am committed to moving forward with the attached proposal. I’m sure it can be improved with the thoughtful insight of reasonable people. I welcome that. I continue to learn about this crucial, public safety issue and the plight of the Indy pit bull. It is unacceptable in this great city for people to live in fear or at risk of being killed or seriously mauled at any moment by a dog, or to continue to institutionally rationalize inhumane treatment of pit bulls.

If you are interested in working with me, please let me know. What we accomplish together for At Risk Dogs could easily augment and empower the Animal Welfare Summit in full stride.

Thank you for your time in reading this email.

Mike Speedy
Councilman, District 24
City County Council
City of Indianapolis, Marion County
4733 Moss Creek Terrace
Indianapolis, IN 46237
T: 317-786-6689
E: m.speedy@sbcglobal.net
Community Affairs, Public Works & Parks & Recreation

BSL -- Not the Answer

2009-04-02T17:05:00.000-04:00

I just want to take the opportunity here to point you to this: http://expositionhat.blogspot.com/2009/04/councillor-speedys-big-bad-wolf.html

I had another long talk about BSL this afternoon; it seems we have to fight its proposal annually in my otherwise-delightful home city. BSL can seem like an easy fix, when only part of the picture is presented. The reality is, it often creates more problems than it solves.

I know that drug rings (laundering money through dog fights) and gang wars (in which aggressive pit bulls are something of a status symbol) are tough issues. I know it's a lot easier to pass a law banning pit bulls and other "dangerous breeds" even from the homes of responsible owners than to try and tackle those tough, expensive issues. But really, criminals who are already committing felonies aren't going to suddenly heed a dog law, and in the meantime, the "dangerous" therapy dogs, service dogs, detection dogs, and companion animals are the victims of the obscenely-outdated premise that one's appearance -- color, height, build -- determine one's behavior.

Just read the linked article, please.

Laev Does Great!! and then, Laev Is A Brat.

2009-03-24T00:14:00.000-04:00

I somehow injured my neck and back last week, and I woke up on Saturday feeling fairly lousy. So I skipped early morning club tracking and instead let Laev out into the yard to air. A moment later we heard the frantic screaming that meant she's treed a critter, and indeed she was climbing a fence and shrieking at a tree. My husband confirmed that she had indeed treed a cat, possibly a holdout from the feral colony which used to thrive nearby.

Granted, I took a while to get prepared. I had to put on shoes, go and find some cream cheese (I wanted a worthwhile reinforcer), and then I had to go out and find a replacement whistle since my own was missing. All this took a while. Still, I have seen Laev run a fence opposite a still cat for HOURS, so it wasn't like she was going anywhere soon.

I walked out to the area where Laev was still running and blew my whistle (uber-recall cue) at a distance of about 40'. And Laev immediately spun and ran directly to me, no hesitation.

Now, for a lot of dogs, this would be a good thing. For Laev, this is roughly the equivalent of an ant holding back a collapsing reservoir dam, of the earth rotating backwards, of me passing up dark chocolate. This is amazing. Of course she got a good dose of cream cheese!

After that, it was easy. I sent her back to bark at the cat and then called her again and again. We also did some heeling past the cat, and even a moving down with recall. To top it off, while Laev held her down, the Rottweiler barreled past her, close enough to brush her, toward me and the cream cheese -- but Laev knew her job. I was proud of her. I came in and told my husband, "That's bloggable!"

Then I loaded up and went to protection session, so she could get some work and so I could toss money I owed into the club pot. Because of my injured neck and back, I knew I couldn't hold Laev myself -- I think that's how I completed the initial injury, working Laev when I was already hurting -- so I had someone else hold her on a long line as we walked together onto the field, and then whenever she needed held back during work.

This wasn't as simple as it sounds. My long line helper and I weren't used to the elegant dance required to keep all three of us untangled at all times, and gauging distance was occasionally a challenge. The helper did a sneak attack on us as I set Laev up for a blind search, running up behind me, but because the long line holder was also behind us, Laev had plenty of room to turn and reach him, getting a bite right off the bat. No one's fault, and not a big problem, Laev is very clean and even though he hadn't expected her to reach him, she just took the sleeve. But her calls out of the blind were far from prompt and even non-existent -- bad Laev! I am reasonably certain that it started with confustion and frustration over the long line and fumbling, but it got worse as we went on, so no more of that! We won't do any more calls out of the blind 'til the handler is back to full functionality and can insist on clean behavior.

Laev did cheat twice as I was heeling her down the field to send for the courage test. The first time, she got impatient and bolted from heel position toward the helper, only to be blocked by the long line. Naughty! That kind of thing hasn't happened in a long, long, time, so we'll be revisiting that. The other time was kind of my fault; she was heeling nicely, and I did an about turn -- which I have always done as a send to the helper. (Normally I do a U-turn to the left if we're going to sit.) We caught her on the long line, and I heeled back and this time cued "sit" as we turned, so she sat at heel. Then I sent her. :)

So, we'll definitely need to revisit control work when I'm back to normal; there was just too much she could experiment with while I wasn't holding her and with someone else on the line. It takes too much time to explain, "she bumped the helper in the blind, pull her out!" -- which she did tonight, for the first time in nearly a year. Naughty Doberman! Yes, she was high on adrenaline, which is a good thing, but no, that doesn't mean she can revert. I'll be curious to see if the behavior cleans up on its own when we get back to just the two of us on the field.

Laev just started running her blind search wide, too, in typical Doberman fashion. This disappoints me, as I'd always liked her tight circles. The blind search isn't timed, but style counts! We'll have to see if I can tweak those back into full-point territory.

No, Laev, No!

2009-03-17T14:15:00.002-04:00

So it's finally nice spring weather, and I was celebrating by leaving the front door open so the dogs could wander in and out and so I could have some nice spring air. This open door is normally a good thing, a treat we get only briefly in spring and fall.

'Til Laev came trotting inside with a dead chipmunk.

"No, Laev, dead chipmunks are outdoor toys."

Hurt look.

I directed Laev back outside and she proceeded to sulk. I told her to "out" and she spat the chipmunk promptly, and then I gave her permission to enter the house. She picked up the chipmunk. Block entrance, repeat.

Finally I tossed the chipmunk away from the door (too lazy to dispose of it properly yet) and Laev hesitated, torn between wanting to keep her prize and wanting to come inside with me. Finally she split the difference and lay down in the doorway, where she could keep an eye on us both.

Last night we were able to get back on the field for some outdoor Schutzhund again. The dogs love working outdoors; so much room to really run and get crazy! I'm still working on Laev's sit at heel during bitework, but she's doing better at revving herself (and I'm doing better at handling for it). We'll get there.... Lots of work in the obedience phase, still, though.

It figures.

2009-03-02T11:04:00.000-05:00

Saturday I took the Dobes to a CDSP obedience day -- two trials. A handful of clients came to see the first trial, as I'd suggested some of them might want to consider CDSP obedience, and stayed to watch our Open runs.

My dogs embarrassed me. Ugly heelwork, unfocused dogs.

At least it was a chance to practice good sportsmanship, right? And to demonstrate that our dogs aren't automatons?

I thought about that trial after everyone left, and I realized I was probably not handling the way I train. I was not thinking wholly about the dog, I was thinking about the judge, the stewards, the spectators.... This is a team event. If I need my dog's whole attention, my dog needs mine. Also, I think I'd succombed to boring ring heeling instead of brisk Schutzhund heeling.

So for the second trial, I concentrated on my dogs. Heelwork was still not what it can be, but it was good enough. And we took first and second place in our class. Hours after my clients went home. /laugh/ Figures.

So Laev has finished her Open title -- again -- for real this time (under the proper number of judges!) and will be going back to Utility work. Shakespeare still hasn't finished Open, as I didn't enter him at the last CDSP trial as he was running multiple classes in the neighboring ring. I'm trying to take it easy on the old guy, but sometimes I wonder if he'd rather exhaust himself working...?

TDI update! - a ray of hope!

2009-02-26T14:34:00.001-05:00

UPDATE!

The phone rang a bit ago, and it was TDI! It was a different staffer, and she was not only friendly and polite, she was helpful! I explained to her the situation, and she not only took note of what I said and promised to look into it, but she actually even called me back with an answer!

The short version is, Laev's TDI registration should go out tomorrow. I also have instructions on how to submit an appeal for Shakespeare. I left aside my other concerns, preferring to raise the odds of success by splitting criteria ;-) but I hope that we can get some of the other items addressed as well.

But I wanted to in fairness promptly report this development!

Therapy Dogs International -- strong language follows

2009-02-26T14:24:00.001-05:00

I thought I was done with all this TDI-bashing, but I think I'm going to finally come out and say this. Some -- not all, certainly, but some -- of the TDI office staff are liars and con artists.

I really, truly feel I have been taken in by an organized con. They have my money and the high ground of saying they're a charitable institution doing good. I am left to sound whiny and plaintive. It's brilliant.

But after all the previous TDI foolishness, I finally wrote to the president directly (a concerned someone passed me a direct address). I received an email response and a phone call from another staffer.

The staffer sounded appropriately horrified. "Oh, no, we would never ask for money if you weren't already a registered member. You're in our system because your dog was approved."

I pointed out that we had tested in July 2008 and that this was January 2009, and we had never received our approval paperwork, nor any answers to my queries.

"I don't know why you wouldn't have been answered or why you didn't get your paperwork; you're approved. I'll send new paperwork out now."

She also listened to my story of Shakespeare's rejection despite his numerous references and the patent ridiculousness of his being rejected for dog aggression after he had to serve as the neutral dog for TDI's own testing (because the evalutor's "neutral dog" was still barking and lunging against the crate door even in another room). She agreed and suggested I submit an appeal.

She also was very interested in my report of a TDI evaluator passing dogs who were growling at the medical equipment and about which handling warnings were given to the evaluator to avoid a bite during testing. (Really.) The staffer said she didn't know why the test organizer's letter on the subject hadn't received a reply, but she would be sure to call her for more information, now that I'd given her the organizer's phone number.

That was in January. This is now the end of February. I have never received Laev's paperwork indicating that she is or has been registered with TDI. The person who contacted TDI about the dubious evaluator never received a phone call asking for more information. And her attempts to contact TDI have met with no answer -- they will not answer the phone, they will not respond to her emails.

But I said, stuff happens, maybe stuff got lost in the mail, who knows? So I called TDI again. "I am still waiting for my dog's registration paperwork. She tested in July 2008, and in January someone told me it would be sent again, and I still need that."

The staffer told me to renew online. When I tried to explain that this wasn't that type of renewal, she wouldn't let me finish my sentence, just repeating "Renew online!" again and again. I finally interrupted, rather more sternly than my usual self, and said that I did not want to pay another year's fee to get the paperwork I had not received from 7 months ago, that I had been told I could have my original registration. The staffer said she would look up my check -- and then she hung up on me.

When you take money for something -- registration, paperwork, insurance -- and then don't deliver it, that could be stealing or it could be gross incompetence. When you take money, refuse to deliver the product, and hang up on people who call to ask where the product is, that's pretty definitely stealing.

So, makes me wonder about the rest of TDI, too. If a TDI dog should bump or startle an unsteady patient who falls, what are the odds the promised insurance will come through for the handler? I wouldn't bet on it.

Say It Out Loud

2009-02-14T16:39:00.006-05:00

I hesitated to post this, lest it sound whiny and self-absorbed. I don't want that! But if this blog is about my thoughts and experiences training, and the following are indeed part of my thoughts on training, then here goes....

Today during training, a club member asked me about some behavior he saw in the dog working at that time. I answered with my observations. He asked about the behavior's origins in puppyhood, and I answered again. Where it seemed I might be commenting on the handler personally, I specified, "This is not to sound judgmental about [the handler], I love her to death, but if that were my puppy, this is how I would do things."

Of course, the dog is not a puppy -- she's several years old -- and the handler didn't have this dog as a puppy anyway. Obviously moot point for that dog, but the question related to his own puppy, so it had some relevance.

But someone else, returning to where we sat, saw us speaking quietly. "Say it out loud!" he ordered, taking me by surprise. "Whatever it is, say it out loud!"

I stammered something, worrying he thought I was talking smack about the handler. I wasn't. And the person who called me out explained that he had just seen too many clubs hurt by gossip, even if it was only perceived gossip. But after all was said and done, it got to me thinking.

Dangerous, that.

The point today was that we didn't want anyone to think we were talking bad about someone else. Would I want someone talking about me? Thing is, I know people talk about me, now. I do overhear conversations behind my back or get private emails. Sometimes it's good -- I'm really pleased when I hear that someone finds the blog inspiring or helpful in their own training. Sometimes it's not so good -- protestations that I think I'm the world's best trainer, or that I have a nice dog, shame about the wacky handler. I've had people say that the sport of Schutzhund itself is cruel and no dog-loving trainer would ever even try it (clearly an ignorant opinion). I had someone write to accuse me of lying on a training discussion list. That hurt, even though the accusation was fairly idiotic.

People talk. That's nothing new. I should probably be grateful that I even merit their time. ;)

Yesterday, someone asked me how I handled being a clicker trainer at a competition venue where people are jerking and scruffing and punishing their dogs. I said that I will talk with some people who seem to want to talk, but I don't go looking for fights. "Shut up and show off," I said. I don't need to vindicate and proselytize, I need to train my dog. When they want what we have, I'll share.

Not that we're always a prime example. Today as I was trying to determine my day's training plan, a friend asked me to complete the sentence, "I wish Laev would...." I finished, "Pass the stinkin' Schutzhund 1!" Obviously, I'm still a little bitter. I'll admit, I cried when she failed. Heck, I sobbed on the way home. That was a tough week for me even before Laev flunked and humiliated me, and yes, I cried. And it further bothered me when someone said that we failed because I was a clicker trainer.

We failed because I had a hole in my training. Incomplete training is incomplete, no matter what kind of training it is. Laev was the only Schutzhund entry that day; I never stood up and said that another dog wasn't ready to even try because they use physical corrections. That would be just ridiculous as well as incredibly rude.

The saying goes that the only thing two trainers can agree on is what the third trainer is doing wrong. :) Steve White, whom I greatly respect, told a story of watching another trainer working a dog. It included techniques which Steve didn't use and found silly. He said he was just starting to feel superior when another trainer commented, "Hm, obviously that's been working for him."

That comment interrupted Steve's judgmental attitude, and I think it's a very valid one. We are lazy creatures; we don't do things that don't pay off in some way. Sometimes methods are more effective short-term than long-term, or sometimes the inverse, but we don't invest time and energy in something with no payback. Training is the same way. I don't like to hear clicker trainers bash traditional coercive training with "it doesn't work" because the truth is that it DOES work for many (not all) dogs. If not, it wouldn't have made it this far.

The fact that I think I have something better doesn't mean that the alternative has no validity.

Still, there's a lot of pressure to perform. This blog seemed like a good idea 'til I found myself posting about mistakes and failures. ;-) And when I'm trying to demonstrate TAGteach and I keep using improper language -- me, the instructor, the so-called expert -- it's frustrating. Someone pointed out an error today and I answered, "Yep, my dog and I aren't perfect!" And I don't think we are. But I do think that sometimes there's a higher standard. But so what? If I let that get to me, whose fault is that?

So say it out loud. If someone thinks I'm doing something right, great! If someone thinks I'm stupid, or a liar, or a person who manipulates this blog to make myself look good (right, sure, that's where my posts about failing the trial or being the worst tracklayer ever come from!) then oh well. It won't be anything new, saying that I'm screwing up my training.

But let's be honest. I don't pretend to have all the answers, and I don't pretend that I have perfect training. I just intend to do the best I know how to do. That's all any of us can do.

In other news -- Laev's obedience during bitework is getting shoddy. She isn't loading properly when we start but wants to wait 'til she sees the helper to get excited and focused. We can't have that. She's also losing precision. Grrr. I'll be making training plans for a while....

Back to back.

2009-02-11T16:46:00.002-05:00

Monday, I got a call from my training friend who organizes the therapy dog reading programs for the county-wide public library system. One of their regulars was ill and they needed a substitute dog.

So Monday night, Laev went to her first therapy dog visit. She was a bit too forward when greeting the effusive librarians, but then she remembered to sit nicely. I'd managed to walk out and leave her quiet-toy at home, but she downed on her mat and lay still while shy kids worked up the courage to approach her, pet her, and eventually read to her. Laev spent a great percentage of the time lying on her back, enjoying belly rubs, while kids and parents took turns reading. She was very, very good.

Then I tossed her mat into the car and drove up to join Schutzhund practice, where Laev worked on more obedience for blind searches, calls out of the blind, and avoiding predicting outs.

Yeah, back to back. That's called stimulus control. That's my dog. :)

Worse Tracklayer Evaaaaar.

2009-02-09T12:55:00.004-05:00

The warm spell has begun. Temperatures jumped from below zero to about forty degrees on Saturday, and our accumulated snow (over a foot at my house) began to melt. This meant Saturday was our last chance for snow tracking!

I planned my track in advance. I've been working on getting strict focus right from the start of the track, instead of Laev's usual "Ooh, tracking!" launch at high speed. One thing that works well is to approach the track from an angle, so that the track could run in any direction from the flag (not straight out); jumping forward means she loses the track. So we'd do that. We'd also have an article just a few paces in; she's not used to finding articles that quickly, so that might surprise her and prompt her to think instead of rushing the track.

When I arrived at the tracking field, much of it was already tracked. No problem -- we'd use a crosstrack, too, so that Laev had to concentrate on her track.

Well, I just kind of ignored the rest of the conditions. Not entirely, of course -- when, while I was pondering how to cross a running stream of melt, the deceptively safe ground I stood upon turned out to be a melting ice bridge which collapsed and dropped me calf-deep into running snowmelt, I didn't entirely ignore that. (I spent the next 6 hours with cold, sodden socks and boots.) But I hadn't taken the melt into account while I laid track. I put down six articles in all. About 45 minutes later, I brought Laev to the start.

Laev was eager to track and rushed straight from the flag, going right off the track (which actually started to the left). She self-corrected and went down the track to the first article. "Eh?! What's this doing here?" She backed away from the article, looked at me, and said clearly, "I'm not lying down in this slush."

She had a point; my footsteps were filled with water. Snow was floating on the field. Her slick Doberman coat wouldn't be much protection.

But I couldn't let her be reinforced by continuing the track without performing the previous behavior in the chain. So I held her collar, gently insisted on at least a crouch, threw some hot dog down and released her to track. Right into the cross track.

Oh, my. How could I have missed that this crosstrack was baited with hot dogs?! Laev hesitated, sniffed both tracks, and then started eating. Reinforcement for exactly the wrong thing, and who can blame her? Bad tracklayer!

We got through that somehow -- "No, no, track! Your track! Track! Good girl!" -- and went on. Now the snow was no longer floating on the field, but every footstep was full of about 3" of water; it had started seeping in after I made prints. Laev didn't bother eating most of the treats I'd left occasionally. She did NOT like the articles, however. She offered me alternate indications -- "Look, lady, I'll point at it with my nose, or paw at it, but let's NOT do the down, okay?" -- and I had to again take her collar and insist. The track is just too powerful a reinforcer for her; she can't have it unless she performs the previous behavior in the chain. If I had predicted the awful cold, wet conditions, I could have used fewer articles and avoided this conflict.

The serpentine again proved to be the best device for forcing Laev to pay close attention to each footstep. At the final article, she pawed it, backed away, got distracted by something in the distance (pure displacement!), pawed it again when I prompted, backed away, and downed. Big hot dog party! And I kicked myself again, because there was a big pile of dog poop just a foot away from my article, which I had totally missed in laying the track. Bad tracklayer -- and bad dog owner, whoever that may be.

So, we'll have some cleanup work to do.

In other news, I really, really need to work on getting and reinforcing the sit before the blind search. Laev is happy to heel for bitework, but she hates sitting at heel. Boring! Let's just straight to the fun parts! So I need to do more there.

Jan trial report -- this was better :-)

2009-01-04T23:03:00.001-05:00

I went with a group to an APDT/CDSP trial weekend and wanted to brag on the results!

Two CIA puppy clients entered the just-approved Puppy class. Montana is an 8 month old Lab and has already beaten experienced adult competitors in her first Dock Diving competition, but this was her first obedience outing. Huxley is a Mastiff, just barely over the 6 month age requirement. Both qualified three runs of four and earned their first titles. Yay! All their qualifying scores were quite respectable, 189 and up. I was proud. :D

My CIA comrade Melissa, with a few reminders to try breathing, took her Lab/Golden mix Link (registered name "Excuuuse Me, Princess!") into Novice and qualified 3 runs of 4 to earn her first title! Yay! (Link works a LOT better when Melissa has oxygen!) But on Sunday, Melissa got wild and decided to enter Rally, too. Their first run, Link did very well, but they had a handler error which cost them an NQ. Melissa was REALLY stressing about her second run; I was stewarding the Open ring and couldn't watch, but Melissa told me it was an impossible course and they'd never make it. It must have been really impossible, because every dog in the A class NQ'd -- except Link, who got a blue ribbon and his first Rally leg. Not SO impossible, after all!

I was in the other ring during both of my Schutzhund friend Connie's runs, which really frustrated me. The first time, I'm sure it frustrated Connie as well -- we helped each other's dogs NQ! Our dogs were beside one another in adjoining rings. I had just walked away from Laev when Connie yelled, "Vor aus!" for Batman, and Laev launched to the far end of the 80' ring and started searching for her target. I called loudly for Laev to come, and that made Batman hesitate instead of finishing his sendout! We don't do much side-by-side work with conflicting concepts in club training. I missed Connie's second run, too, but I heard it was pretty decent; Batman didn't make any major errors, but just had an accumulation of points off that kept him from qualifying. But he did his retrieves, which have been very tough for him, and he recovered well after a scary dog incident, so I give him credit.

My husband Jon needed one more leg to get his one title I told him he had to have for the Rottweiler -- any venue, any title, I said, just something to prove to the insurance people that she was functional in public and trained, as I submit for the Dobermans. He was really stressing about it but wasn't willing to pay the professional handler fee I'd charge him. ;-) APDT allows handicapped dogs to compete and will even do some modifications (lower jump heights, etc.), so we submitted the proper form for Inky's utter lack of rear control. (She's gotten even worse, sometimes knuckling over as she walks and she can't get up from certain positions.) Jon worked really hard on breathing and relaxing during the course -- he tends to freeze up and freak the dog out -- and they walked out not only with their third and final leg, but a blue ribbon! which was a great finish. Jon was thrilled and is now done with trialing. :-)

Another CIA client came for just one run with her Standard Poodle Marley. She got a blue ribbon and High Scoring Dog & Handler in First Trial for Both, a special club award for the day. Yay!

My sister and CIA comrade Alena cleaned up. Seriously. She works a very low-threshold, very high-anxiety dog, who can be quite reactive. They got two new titles and ribbon placements in each of the 8 classes she entered! She had three or four run-offs and won every one of them, I think -- including when she finished her CD-H and moved up to the Novice Championship class, full of more experienced competitors, and took second place! Valenzia became mildly famous as the whining Doberman with gorgeous heeling.

Shakespeare started embarrassingly slow -- he broke stays in two classes on his first day, anticipating! -- but came back to his usual form on Sunday. My goal for him was 190+ double-Qs, which he needs for his championship, and he ended definitively with a double-Q of 210 and 209 in his Level 2 and Level 3 classes. (APDT has 200 points, with an optional 10-point bonus exercise selected by the judge.) Needs more double-Qs, but we're getting there.

Laev got another Rally leg (only after a spectacular fail involving the distraction food bowls -- she demonstrated that she can remove the safety cover quite handily!) in one ring, finished her Open title in the other and moved up to Utility, which I'd only just started prepping for after our club trial when I realized belatedly that she would probably finish Open the first day of this weekend. With perhaps 4-5 days' worth of scent discrimination work, zero directed retrieve work, and only one try at directed jumping previously, we entered Utility A. /laugh/ Laev had all the foundation skills, right? :-) Yeah, but she didn't have a handler fluent in the class! The judge called us in, set us up, and (understandably) didn't remind me that it was the Signals exercise first. "Forward," she said, and I called, "Heel!" I went forward three steps, slapped my hand over my mouth and gasped, "Oh, no! This is signals, isn't it?!"

The judge laughed and we restarted, but I was rattled and Laev looked a little worried during signals, so I just verbally cued the drop. That was an NQ, but it meant the rest of the run could be training, which was fine. And we did MUCH better than I'd expected -- a half-point on her scent retrieve, which I'd just crammed the week before, and compliments from someone watching on her nice marks. I was really happy with it.

No one else saw that run, however. All my friends got to see our second Utility run, which -- well, when I came out, Alena asked, "Is this where we start heckling?" :-) It was the very end of a long weekend, I guess; Laev spaced stuff that I know she knows better. Still, if I try to cram for a class like Utility, I can't really complain when the dog isn't ready!

All in all, it was a pretty good weekend. I was really happy with and for my friends!

Utility Articles

2009-01-02T11:06:00.002-05:00

I started teaching scent articles just before Christmas. In the beginning, she was so quick to simply do *something* with a dumbbell that she wasn't pausing to think about what was getting clicked. Previous learning was over-riding everything; she knew she had to grab that object for me!

I started clicking for just nose touches to the correct article, interrupting the retrieve, and Laev grasped the scent discrimination idea within a couple of days -- which was longer than I would have guessed it would take, but still pretty fast for the utility scent exercise.

But that wasn't the end of the job, oh no. I've discovered that Laev gets so wired at the thought of scenting that she barrels into the pile, air-scents the target, and grabs the first object in that direction. She is too excited to focus on the exact origin of the scent and wants to just be lazy and go with the immediate area.

Sound familiar?! That is exactly what we've been fighting in tracking!

So I'm hoping that this will improve her tracking concentration as well. I can't really affect her in tracking much -- physically slowing her makes her hectic, so I'm left with trying to induce slow concentration instead of the self-reinforcing air scenting -- but I can establish consequences in this kind of scent work. Laev seemed to get it more quickly when I snatched up the correct dumbbell after she grabbed the wrong one, preventing her from switching to the right one and requiring a reset before she could have another chance at earning her treat.

We'll see how progress goes. It's telling that she got the concept within a couple of days but now is stymied by her old nemesis of self-reinforcing speed.

I'm Glad I'm a Clicker Trainer

2009-01-02T10:05:00.004-05:00

Saturday I went to Schutzhund training with Laev. This was my first time back since the debacle of the trial, and I still didn't have a good plan for what I was going to do about the field. Training departed from the usual agenda (tracking and protection on Saturdays) due to the training director being ill and a couple of us wanting to practice other things, so I found myself working Laev in obedience.

I was feeling pressure. A lot of pressure. (Mostly from myself.) I was coaching another member who is preparing for a CDSP trial this weekend (I'll be there with two dogs, too), and I offered some observations to another member who is working a young adolescent, but I prefaced some of my comments with, "I know my obedience training opinions are worth only a couple of Peruvian rupees this month...." Most of the pressure was internal, everybody was very nice to me about the trial, but there was some quiet talk to one side about training discipline. Lots of pressure.

And Laev was not cooperating. She was generally unfocused, preferring to sniff the floor (her worst floor anywhere, a big barn with lots of cat and mouse smells, dung, and general stuff) and just not "on." I mentioned that she was probably coming into season (she's been due for a while but hasn't come in yet), but that didn't explain her absolutely heinous retrieve. I was almost on the ground begging for a retrieve from her, and I was getting one about 30% of the time (first cue). It was slow when I did get it. Laev could do other stuff we were cramming for the trial -- signals, moving stand, broad jump -- but her retrieves were uuuuuuugly.

I getting really testy about the retrieve. Laev KNOWS the retrieve. She knows it. Really. I brushed it off with the explanation that I'd introduced scent retrieves this week and obviously that had temporarily confused all her retrieves, but I was still honestly surprised it was that bad, even considering reduced criteria. I mean, Laev KNOWS the retrieve.

When she did retrieve, she returned slowly, with a less-solid grip than normal. Dumbbell sat crooked in her mouth sometimes like a stogie. "What, is your mouth broken?" I asked. I mixed up retrieves with lots of other work, but it didn't get better.

Time for bitework, because I needed to get a video clip to accompany a KPCT training article for January. Laev locked and rocked on all her bites, dismissing my tiny little worry that there really was a problem with her mouth. She always has great grips.

Afterward, I wanted to fix those lousy retrieves before the obedience trial this weekend. So I brought her back out and tried them again. Laev would look at the dumbbell and just say, all but aloud, "Nope." I wanted to smack her in the head with the dumbbell. I didn't, but I did get a little sharp with her -- sharp for us, anyway.

"It's just not rewarding enough," someone volunteered from the side.

We are a very joking group and normally that would mean nothing, but this time I didn't take it well. "I'm going to reteach the retrieve from scratch," I announced tersely. "Come on, Laev."

Laev said, Nope. Not doing it. Well, I'll do it, but I won't like it. I don't care if you have hot dogs now, I don't wanna put that thing in my mouth.

Something took my body and walked it to a stack of dumbbells, where I exchanged our 1.5# dumbbell for a little AKC-size dumbbell. Laev resisted, but then started picking that one up. Slowly, but she was doing it. Why would she prefer a strange lightweight dumbbell to her own?

I asked an experienced club member to come and look at her teeth with me. Turns out we didn't really have to look hard; Laev had broken off a tip.

Yep, my dog is nutty enough to do bitework with a broken tooth, but she wasn't willing to take the hit just for a treat. I suspect she broke it yesterday trying to root a critter out from under our big old barn; she probably did it biting at the foundation. I felt like a real jerk for getting frustrated and short with her, but I also felt very glad that I hadn't been using an ear pinch or other coercion to try and fix the problem of her clearly just blowing me off about something she knows really well.

/sigh/

It was two days before I could get Laev to our vet. (If she could do bitework enthusiastically, she wasn't in real distress; I tried a temporary OTC remedy but found it was better just to leave her alone.) This vet works field dogs and I explained that I'd found the broken tooth when her retrieve went sour. He checked her mouth. "Do you have a forced retrieve?"

"No, it's trained, but it's not forced."

That seemed to settle him. "This isn't causing her real pain. She's getting away with being lazy. Tell her to pick it up."

I respect most experts in their own field, but my dog is my own field. Laev would pick up lighter objects more readily than heavy ones. I took her to train after the vet visit and Laev would do signals, gleeful little hops into a moving stand, jumps, heeling, everything -- but when I sent her for a retrieve, she stood over the dumbbell for a moment, and then picked it up and dropped it three times before she finally held it and returned to me. (All one cue.) It just didn't make sense that Laev would happily do everything else but "flip me the paw" over just the retrieve if this were any kind of dominance, laziness, other issue.

So I pretended I knew her mouth was sore and didn't do any bitework or retrieves. And then I started scent discrimination with utility articles on Wednesday, asking only for a nose touch indication, but Laev started adding the pick up on her own after a while. The articles are very light; they probably were easy. We played with that for a while, and then last night I asked for a full-length scent discrimination retrieve. Laev is still working on the scenting part (more on that later) but her retrieve is perfectly intact.

Sometimes it's good to listen to one's gut -- a little sooner than I did, in the instance of last Saturday -- and not jump to coercion when a behavior vanishes. I wish I hadn't gotten as frustrated as I did, but at least I know I wasn't hurting my dog further in demanding she do what I knew she knew.

Trial Report.

2008-12-13T22:08:00.005-05:00

Today is not a good day to have a blog.

There are good aspects to having a blog; it forces me to think though things as I write posts, it connects me with other people and their suggestions, it encourages other people in their own training, it lets me report to several friends at once on our progress. But there are bad aspects to having a blog, too, like reporting bad news. It's awful enough to live through it, worse to report it to friends, and worse still to have to tell the people from other states or even other countries who have written or commented to wish success.

But I set myself up for this, so I can't blame anyone but myself.

The day was not a total loss, actually. Tracking went decently; Laev started correctly and, though she got excited and overshot each corner by a body length, she self-corrected and showed a deep nose. Parts of the track the judge even called "excellent." Too bad she failed to stop at the first article. (Where did that come from all of a sudden?) So she finished with a score of 80, which isn't going to knock anyone's socks off but was at least mostly respectable, considering she lost a lump 10 points by missing the article.

Shakespeare struggled considerably more at both corners and wobbled, also missing the first article. (Note to self -- leather articles no good today!) However, he finished the track and squeaked by with a score of 71 to earn his Tracking 1 title. (The judge was even kind enough to specify later over lunch that it was earned and not a gift.) That surprised and pleased me. Not bad for a dog I suspect has a handicap! I collected my skipped articles and left tracking feeling fairly happy.

Laev had showed very nice focus prior to the track and good self-control in starting the track, so I was anticipating a good obedience session. During the 45-minute drive from tracking to the club field, I listened to music. By the time I arrived, I was even singing along a bit, having conquered most of my nerves and compartmentalized the stressful stuff from earlier in the week. (I had an upsetting event this week, which hurt and challenged me personally.) I was feeling pretty confident and mostly competent.

I don't know what the temperature or wind chill really was, but it was COLD. Less wind than predicted, which was good, but colder too, I think. We were cold even with our multi-layered winter gear. Still, less wind and no rain was good for obedience. And I liked the judge, who was easy to show to and didn't give me trial jitters like I get with Laev.

BH dogs went first, and there were two. (Someone else came after all!) Alena and Valenzia did better than anticipated, given that Alena had only 10 days notice of the trial and Valenzia had done almost no outdoor work previously. They did not pass, but I was happy for them with their overall showing.

Us next! We had an honor dog working the other half of Laev's flight, as we were the only Schutzhund entry. Laev and I got to the field first -- I really thought the other dog was right behind us! -- and had to wait for the second dog. I had Laev sit while we waited. Then the second dog came and we checked in, Laev offleash and the honor dog on a long line, as approved by the judge. She asked if I wanted to do the down or heelwork first, and I looked at Laev shivering hard and said that we'd work first, to warm her up. Seemed reasonable.

I took her to the start line and sat in basic position, ready to begin. But the honor dog had to get across the field and start his down, which took a couple of minutes. Laev had been fidgety during the waiting but then had focused well for reporting in, and I thought that I didn't want to burn out her focus while waiting again. So I downed her and stepped to one side, so she didn't have to wait all keyed up.

This would have been fine during normal training. But this wasn't normal training, was it? There were strange people on the field, a different atmosphere in general, and we'd already waited in limbo before reporting in. Laev was slightly off-kilter and not quite certain of what we were doing. When I stepped back into heel position beside her, ready to begin, she didn't look up at me as she ALWAYS does.*

(* Almost always, except in times of stress. The last time she missed my stepping back as a cue to focus was during a seminar where I was in conflict, and Laev just checked out. Hey, I wasn't focused on her, either. But it's a distinct sign of disconnect.)

Now, a SMART handler would have not only noticed that the dog was not in tune, but done something about it. I could have stepped away and stepped back again. I could have said her name and asked for a simple hand target to reset her before taking a new basic position. But nope, I noticed that she wasn't focused and I just said, "Heel," to pop her forward into the sit. Laev, her eyes across the field, didn't respond. So I cued again and got her, but now we were already out of sync.

I knew immediately I didn't have the same dog I'd left in the down. But I wasn't really sure what to do at that point, and normally heeling will bring Laev's brain back. So I started the pattern. She was a bit wide, and I didn't feel we were "dancing" as we should have been. The judge said in her critique that Laev looked happy and focused, and I don't want to argue with the judge, so I'll just say that I knew it wasn't nearly as good as it can be. Laev was definitely a bit stressed and not in sync.

Still, she was starting to settle in just as the gunshots were fired. They even caught me by surprise! as I was thinking about my dog. Laev didn't startle out of position, but I saw a small reaction in her. I think it was just the straw that broke her concentration. Mine, too; I had no idea where I was in counting steps, which ususally isn't a problem for me. I guessed at a location for our turn. Probably Laev sensed my uncertainty and it didn't reassure her, because a moment later she broke and bolted.

I shouted, but the judge waved me quiet. "Let her check for the toy," she advised. "She's just trying the vor aus early. You get three commands to call her back; don't waste them."

I knew Laev wasn't trying the vor aus; I haven't been sending her that far down the field. She was running to relieve stress. Stupid greyhound genes. She disappeared into the woods, where there were barking neighbor dogs and lots of squirrels.

#*&@$! squirrels.

Laev appeared again, moving at Mach 8 across the edge of the woods. I called. I don't know if she even heard me. She cleared a brush pile -- "She must have jumped 13 feet!" gasped the judge -- and kept going. Out of sight.

I started to worry; Laev has never run that far from me, ever. I made my final call, and she didn't reappear. "Go and get her," said the judge.

I walked toward the end of the field, but there was no sign of Laev. I was getting more worried, now. I was also remembering the whistle I had in the car. I had considered tucking it into a pocket today, just in case -- okay, so I'm paranoid -- but Laev had been doing so well at staying right with me, ignoring the woods, etc. of late that I hadn't thought I'd need it.

It felt like eternity, though it was probably only about a minute before I sighted Laev galloping across the next field. She was moving really, really fast. Maybe, if I don't kill her, we can give up Schutzhund for lure coursing.

I called and she swerved to come to me. We heeled back to hear the brief critique. There wasn't much; the judge liked our early heeling (though I didn't) and then Laev was dismissed for being out of control.

That's it. No more chance to do obedience, no chance to do protection. Epic fail.

On some pathetic level, it was almost nice to see my club's disappointment. Several told me that they had expected Laev to do well; one said that after the morning's track he thought, "Obedience, and then it's in the bag." It was nice to see that they had really expected success.

But then, I feel like we failed not only ourselves, but our club, the judge who flew out for us, my friends who wanted us to succeed, and everyone who read the blog and wished us well, publicly or privately.

And, hindsight being 20/20, of course I can see where I could have done better as a handler. I mean, on at least three occasions this week I carefully explained how movement and simple, successful behaviors can manage and dispell stress safely. Laev was already focused on me when we reported in; I should have done some heel movements and targeting to keep her occupied, moving, and successful while the honor dog went to the down. Then I wouldn't have added stress by changing the routine ("why are we waiting again?") and compounded it by freezing her in place with a down, denying any relief through movement.

The bigger part, of course, is that I did not train for limbo. We've never practiced waiting on the field for the judge to get a pen or the other dog to down or someone to find a missing dumbbell or who knows what. Laev is used to coming on the field, focusing, and working. When I needed her to wait yet again, I required something other than that which I'd trained. So we're going to add dead time into our routine.

I was very disappointed. People were largely sympathetic -- heck, we've all failed sometime, right? -- until it came out that I was writing an article for www.ClickerTraining.com. Then a few comments shifted tone, which frustrated me. I mean, if we had passed, would it have been said that we did so only because I was a clicker trainer? Then why should it be said that we failed because of that?

Yes, it's obvious I have a problem. And I'll work on it. Someone asked me what I planned to do, and I answered, "I plan to think about it when I'm sober." Because, really, the initial burst of disappointment and frustration is not the best time to make decisions. (I did think, during that moment that Laev was gone, that if I just walked off the field and disappeared, being nowhere in sight when she returned, I would probably prevent leaving me for a long time. But of course I couldn't do that in the trial....)

We worked dogs after lunch in preparation for tomorrow's helper seminar. Laev garnered compliments on her bitework, but when the helper slipped the sleeve near the edge of the field -- I didn't know he would do that -- she ran with the sleeve. She did return, and she was never out of sight, but it's a disturbing trend. (Of course, she'd had HUGE reinforcement for running earlier in the day. Relief of stress is a very powerful negative reinforcer.) We put a long line on her and I worked on recalls after the sleeve is slipped, and she was returning to me even unprompted by the end of the session and in her second session as well. I don't kid myself that it's fixed, however.

Her obedience was shot to pieces during the helper sessions, too. Because the focus was on training helpers, not training dogs, the guest helper working her was talking frequently to observers instead of focusing wholly on Laev and me. He also just does some things differently than I prefer to do. What this meant, however, is that bad behavior was getting inadvertently rewarded. I told Laev to down while he was talking, for example, and then before she did he turned and agitated. So the next time I told Laev to down, she hesitated, eyes on helper. Then I was chided for not having a good down and strong corrections. I know I can get proper obedience if the helper and I are working together, not separately; I need to be hard-nosed about that tomorrow during the seminar. We agree that the bite is the ultimate reward for the dog; we disagree in that I say it must be earned though behavior performed entirely by the dog without handler help. (I'm not blaming the helpers; their job wasn't to focus on us at that time. I was clearer in telling helpers to wait during the second session and Laev's downs got more stable again.)

"There's no crying in Schutzhund!" someone told me today, but I really wanted to cry. (I need stress relief, too!) After stuff this week and now with failing our attempt at the 1, I feel like a huge loser and something of a poser. I mean, I'm supposed to be a professional trainer, and I can't pass the lowest level of titling? And we lose it in obedience?! It's tough, too, when someone says before the trial, "I'm not worried, you and Laev are both so good!" -- that's a lot of pressure, y'know? And then when we do fail, and we're supposed to be so good... yeah. I don't think I like being a novice and yet not a novice. And one with a label, too.

But mostly, I don't like failing.

It's not right; I shouldn't be so disappointed about Laev when Shakespeare earned a new title today. Yes, I expected Laev to pass and Shakespeare to fail, but this is the same 50% success ratio, right? And now I've got 4-5 months to train and polish, right? (No trials anywhere before that, I checked.)

And then, at home, Laev came to me and poked me with her long nose, wagging her tail and looking faintly worried. I was obviously upset -- not angry, just upset. She licked my face tentatively, which is pretty unusual; she's not a kisser.

And I remembered that I'd written to someone just a couple of days ago, "Your dog doesn't know he's failed a trial unless you tell him." Laev didn't know what today meant to me; Laev didn't know why I was upset hours later. So I knelt and snuggled and wished I were more balanced as a person.

Really, it's a dog sport. That's all. Some people were joking today, "Schutzhund isn't life or death -- it's much more important than that!" but that's not true. I have a friend whose brother is in the ICU fighting for his life; Laev's score doesn't matter to them. Laev's score doesn't affect whether I'll eat or pay the mortgage, or whether my husband loves me, or where I'll spend eternity. Sure, there's a permanent ugly mark in her scorebook, but really, it's one day in a long and happy relationship with my dog.

I still intend to improve our performance. I'm still not happy. But I'm trying to get over myself.

Shakespeare's Nose

2008-12-13T00:04:00.003-05:00

I realized I'd forgotten to mention something in my last post....

I was talking with Alena today, and we think that my previous supposition -- that perhaps Shakespeare really had suffered some loss to his sense of smell in his head injury -- might be valid. Alena has always said that Shakespeare got much ruder around food after the accident, pushing his nose closer to something a human was holding or sniffing at counters more often. "Did it knock the manners out of you?" she would demand of him. That would make sense if he used to sniff and identify a tidbit from a distance and now had to get closer. And Shakespeare does get excited about tracking -- he's eager to start -- but he definitely worries and frets on the track, and he "falls off" the track much more easily than Laev. He will check a corner several times before settling on the right direction.

So, I don't know if there's a test to measure scent ability, and it's probably not worth testing, anyway. I don't know where scent-processing sits in the brain, but Alena points out that even if it wasn't at the site of impact, there could have been damage with a ricochet effect, just as in human head injuries.

I could be totally wrong on this, of course. It's just guessing re observation. But it wouldn't be impossible, I guess. If it is true, I'd feel pretty bad; I volunteered Shakespeare to do a track instead of an obedience routine because I thought it would be easier on him than repeated jumping and climbing for retrieves. It's a good thing that the stress he displays while working out the track doesn't seem to affect his willingness to start; he's always happy to go to the scent pad.

(Though Shakespeare is semi-retired -- he does only Rally and CDSP obedience at present -- we needed another dog to make minimum entries in our club trial, due to other teams pulling.)

It's clear that, no matter what else, he does have some sense of smell and enjoys working, even if it harder for him. He likes finding articles and anticipates the treats for that. :)

The weather forecast has definitely improved; no more freezing rain! Instead, they are predicting a mostly cloudy day without precipitation, which is much better. There's supposed to be a lot of wind, though, with a wind chill of about 11 in the morning and working up to lower 20s by afternoon. Brr! That wind across open Indiana plain is going to make the long down pretty brutal.... Severe weather warnings have been issued regarding windstorms on Sunday. At least we aren't competing in that!

Laura's Final Thought
What I know, and what I want to get on record before tomorrow, at least for myself: I know that Laev is capable of doing each and every thing I'm going to ask from her tomorrow. We may or may not get all of it; the wind is certainly going to make some parts harder, and sometimes she -- or I -- can have an off day. But I do know that she knows each exercise and each part of it. We hope to get it all together on the same day while the judge is watching. :)

Dress Rehearsal.

2008-12-12T16:57:00.000-05:00

I took the dogs out for one final practice.... Shakespeare's track had an ugly section where he seemed to lost the straight line, and then he did okay. Indicated both articles, even did corners. I'd really helped him on the first corner, laying strategic treats in the footprints, but the second he did largely on his own. That was more impressive because I'd been distracted while laying (by a couple turning their young dog loose in the park!) and hadn't given a lot of help in the track or on the line.

Laev, on the other hand, did an ugly track. I'd laid a TON of food, trying to do a last minute reminder that slow, focused tracks were good! but she tracked right over most of it. Struggled on the first corner after a long leg because she was going fast, then settled down and worked the zig-zags in a semi-decent fashion. The shocker, though, was that she skipped both articles until I stopped her! Laev's article indication has typically been very good. I'm calling that an obligatory dress rehearsal failure, because otherwise I'd be stressing big time.

Then we went to do obedience. Man, I love this dog, even to almost forgiving her article mistakes. She tried so hard for me today. It was cold -- in the twenties, with pretty steady 15 mph wind, according to the weather. I don't know what the wind chill was, but I can tell you, it was cold! I left Laev in a down to practice the honor, and when I returned, one side of her face was decorated with snowflakes, while the other was black and Doberman-like. She was shivering, so we played tug to reward and warm up. Then we practiced our obedience routine.

She was not quite as dazzling in her heelwork as I know she can be, but it looked good enough. The awesome part, though, came during the retrieves. I sent her over the wall and waited -- I always wait nervously, I hate not being able to see my dog -- for her to come back over it. Instead, I saw her appear to the left of the wall, having picked up the dumbbell and returned to one side. Before I could even react, however, she froze, glanced up at the wall, and then BACKED UP and leapt at the wall! I didn't think she'd have the angle or momentum to make it, but she came over it with the dumbbell!

I didn't wait for a sit-front, I just started cheering her good decision and reinforced right away. Turkey hearts, today. Raw turkey hearts. (I'd been stretching for long periods between reinforcements, so I wanted it to be good!)

Note: Raw turkey hearts in a bag in the pocket can make quite a mess if the bag happens to invert inside the pocket during heelwork. Note also: freshly defrosted raw turkey hearts are COLD when the blood and juice runs down the inside of one's coveralls and saturates one's jeans all the way to the ankle.

Anyway, Laev had a good time with the turkey hearts.

We have one final issue. I've been working really hard on dropping her, so that we didn't risk leaving the field during the sendaway in search of critters. The woods at the end of the field is just full of squirrels and rabbits! What I discovered today, though, is that Laev isn't expecting a long sendout, but hesitating in anticipation of the platz. I should be able to work through this easily enough, but not on less than a day's notice :) so I just sent her further down the field to a target. I hope she doesn't stop when she doesn't see the target tomorrow!

Still, I'd rather take the point loss for an early platz than the utter failure of her leaving the field, and she hasn't offered to do that again lately. So here's hoping....

Grr. Angry. Our Tracking Is Mega Fail.

2008-12-09T21:12:00.001-05:00

I am not happy.

Today was rainy, but I need the tracking practice, so when a private lesson was canceled, I took the dogs to a school field. It was by then both dark and rainy. The lights from the parking lot lit the field enough that I could see my footprints in the sodden grass, so I used starting flags only and laid two zig-zag tracks to practice corners. That's what both my dogs are having trouble with; Shakespeare worries, and Laev likes to run over them with enthusiastic speed.

Shakespeare went first. He started okay, and then he said the track just vanished. He could NOT find the next leg. I learned, too, that the footprints showed only from a particular angle, and I lost that leg, too. Never did find our second article. I finished with a very frustrated dog, which isn't good.

Laev went next, and she was wired. She dove onto her track and exploded. Within a couple of seconds she had obliterated her first leg by scrabbling over it, trying to drag down it, and I couldn't find the corner myself and I'd laid it. She kept swearing the second leg wasn't there. I was totally stumped.

Fortunately, I'd flagged the articles on her track, so I simply took to the first article and restarted. No real trouble from there, though she was still way too fast and frantic.

So I told my husband via phone that we'd just had the worst tracking session ever and were going to another field for another try. This time, I wasn't going to lose my track in the dark! I flagged every corner and along straigh legs. I flagged articles. I took Shakespeare out and tracked him.

Shakespeare's tracking really worries me. He's never been a fantastic tracker, but he always tries. Now, though, his corners are so very bad that I am seriously wondering if his head injury a few years back might have damaged his sense of smell. (I haven't done any competitive tracking with him since then.) He just seems so confused at corners, even easy ones. He'll check the options 2-3 times, and it's not just methodical, but he really looks worried about it.

But Shakespeare finished his track and I traded dogs. Laev started a bit better this time; I may have discovered a way to slow her frantic start. We'll see if it holds up. She tracked decently 'til the track ran through a mud slog (we'd had about an inch of rain so far, I think) and she REALLY didn't want the track to run through that muck! But it did, and so she did, though not prettily.

She ran over the first article but indicated when I prompted. Then she restarted, cornered, and ran over the second article. I prompted her again, annoyed, and she ignored it. Prompted, ignored. Prompted, Laev dragged past it. I went up to point out the article.

Heck, I couldn't find it, either. There was a flag on either side of the track and one in front, the way I usually mark my endings, but no article. I felt around, but found nothing. I downed her and checked to see if I'd made a mistake, if there were more flags further on, but I found nothing. Laev pulled away, scenting where I"d walked on, but it was just a mess and so I took her back to the car.

I got a flashlight from the emergency kit and went back. Twenty minutes later, I still hadn't found my article.

So I tracked twice, frustrated both dogs, screwed up both dogs, lost two articles, and came home in a foul mood. I can't believe that I've been working so hard on obedience and protection and we're going to fail tracking, losing our chance at a title first thing in the morning.

Grrrrrrrr.

"...Whether the Weather Will Let Us or Not...."

2008-12-07T22:43:00.002-05:00

This isn't looking good.

I went out Friday morning to train and it was COLD. Seriously, my fingers had lost feeling inside my gloves before I made it from the car to the field. It was cold. Granted, those are my second-best gloves and not my warmest pair. But I don't have training mobility in my warmest pair, so that's how it is on the field.

Laev did her best and was okay for a while, but it wasn't long before she was shivering while she worked. Long downs in the snow just aren't likely this weekend, I'm afraid.

It isn't helping that Laev can't spend much time acclimating to the cold. I had been feeling bad about training in the cold, asking her to jump 39" and climb a 6' wall with cold muscles and frozen ground. That was before I learned that her recent escape ability is because she's leaping (not from the doghouse, but from the kennel floor) out the top, through the shade cover, and dropping over 8' to the frozen ground. So 39" doesn't sound so bad.

That means, however, that she's presently inside all the time except for short bathroom breaks, and so she isn't building up the cold resistance she'll need for a successful trial. So she's more sensitive to the cold AND she's going more and more stir-crazy with the change in exercise schedule.

Adding insult to injury, we're supposed to get a warm snap this week, according to weather predictions. The temperature will jump above freezing and rain, they tell us.

And then it will freeze again. Meaning we'll be tracking and working on ice.

And the current prediction for this Saturday is "wintry mix," which, for those who don't live in the midwest, means a lovely mixture of snow, rain, and sleet. All coming down together, making surfaces treacherous and bodies cold.

I'm hoping our judge has some understanding about the weather. Schutzhund trials don't get canceled except for lightning or other life-threatening conditions, but it's going to be very difficult for the dogs and handlers both, I suspect.

Schutzhund trial pressures

2008-12-02T16:27:00.003-05:00

So, next week Laev is attempting her SchH 1. I am getting a bit worried about it; I felt much more confident a few weeks ago.

Last night's practice went better, though. I discovered that if I leave the country for a week, keep Laev in a crate for several days in a row, and then don't feed her for a day due to resuming normal schedules after pet-sitting schedules, then all that works together to give me awesome energetic focus during obedience. That's good.

However, not even all that kept Laev from making a brief detour during the sendaway to check for critters. Stupid Laev. She came back pretty quickly, but I do.not.want.her.leaving.the.field. Ever.

I know she comes by her insane off-the-charts predatory behavior honestly, that it's very strongly genetic, but that doesn't make it much easier to deal with.

We practiced a full protection routine, for both Laev and myself. (I always forget to disarm the bad guy after Laev apprehends him. Stupid handler. Thank goodness it's not real.) Most of it is decent, but we have rough places; Laev finds it hard to sit quietly at heel while the helper is called out of the blind and then heel with focus to set up for the guard/escape bite. She's wholly capable, has done it, but she's just excited. She also finds it hard to leave the guarding position and heel around for the side transport to the judge. And heeling away from the helper to set up for the courage test is more difficult as we get further and further away -- completely my fault, because I've only done that heeling stretch twice ever in practice.

To be fair to Laev, last night she was wired for sound and loaded for bear, after her week of forced inactivity and people deprivation. But she's going to be wired on trial day, too.

So in the next few days I need to rev Laev enough to sustain that awesome energy and focus through our full obedience routine (the phase in which I feel least confidence right now), yet calm her enough that she focuses properly on her tracking instead of racing along it (as she would prefer), and polish some bobbles in protection work (she does not like heeling away from the helper). No sweat. And of the two scheduled training sessions, one is opposite my facility's open house, which will occupy me all day.

I have stated that if Laev does well, I'll buy her a ham. I hope she remembers that.

Squirrels. Dumb squirrels.

2008-12-02T14:44:00.003-05:00

(Warning -- this post may be offensive to lovers of small, furry, and exceptionally stupid rodents.)

I have lots of squirrels. I also have two Dobermans. This leads to hours of entertainment, of the variety the ancient Romans would have cheered in the arenas.

The Rottweiler likes the squirrels, too, but she just isn't in their league. She will watch them out the window and occasionally will amble toward one outside, but there's not a chance of her really endangering a squirrel.

The Dobermans, however, are another story. Our squirrel population is benefiting, one could suppose, from the systematic weeding out of those individuals who don't realize that Dobermans can JUMP.

Arrogance + stupidity = fail, in my yard. Coming to low branches to tease and taunt is not a good idea.

We have lots and lots and lots of trees, most of which are decades old (up to 100 years or so), so the squirrels have ample safety and lots of height if they choose. Most of the year they aren't a problem, but as winter sets in, the squirrels get more focused on collecting their food (a good thing) and hiding it (a good thing) and sometimes on hiding it in inaccessible-to-other-squirrels locations (not a good thing, as sometimes those areas are squirrel-free for a reason) and they forget about the dogs.

Today Shakespeare wanted out the bedroom door. I let him and Laev out, not taking any pains to be quiet about it; anyone in the area could have heard the door bang and my voice and the dogs jump out. But apparently the squirrels weren't listening, because less than a moment later Shakespeare proudly displayed his catch at the door. (I wasn't impressed enough to let him bring it inside.)

I don't know how he got that one; perhaps it was simply too dumb to head up the tree when he came out, perhaps it was distracted and missed his exit. A couple of weeks ago, however, I watched a squirrel get caught, and I have no excuse for the thing.

I'd opened the door to send Laev to her kennel. A squirrel was sitting between the door and her kennel, just a few feet from either, and it didn't run when the door first opened. It did run when Laev started toward the kennel. A darting squirrel shooting from nearly between her feet certainly caught her attention and she chased it to the nearest tree.

I didn't think the squirrel was going to make it; Laev is fast. But it shimmied up the tree trunk an inch or so before Laev, who did a flip as she careened past too fast to turn. Laev jumped at the trunk and shrieked at the squirrel.

"Okay, that was fun, let's go," I said. "Game's over."

Laev looked at me. But there's a squirrel in the tree!

"Come on. The squirrel's not coming down."

But -- squirrel!

Laev turned toward me, hesitated, and -- I am not making this up -- the squirrel fell out of the tree. Almost on her head.

So much for my credibility.

The squirrel hit the ground running, but not fast enough. And it didn't take advantage of any of the three trees immediately next to the tree it fell out of, but instead it ran across flat ground toward another cluster of trees behind the garage.

There is no squirrel alive which can outrun a Laev on the ground. The squirrel never reached the next tree.

But I have a hard time feeling sorry for a critter which didn't take first warning, clumsily fell out of its safe place, and didn't head for the next logical escape route. The way I see it, Laev just improved our squirrel breeding stock.

We've had lots of smart squirrels. At our previous house, the squirrels discovered they could run alongside the fence and drive the dogs insane, just 3" on the safe side of chain link. I'm sure that's what Shakespeare is taking vengeance for now. They also knew how to dine safely at the bird feeder, how to cross the yard without risking the dogs, etc. But this current population, well, I'm not so convinced of their cleverness.

More TDI Ridiculousness

2008-12-02T12:40:00.003-05:00

Quick review:

1) Shakespeare was rejected by TDI because "he could be a risk if he encountered another dog on a visit." This rejection occurred despite the fact that Shakespeare regularly works around other dogs and has been the neutral dog for countless CGC and other tests, including TDI testing. So he's good enough to use for TDI testing, but not to make a TDI visit.

2) Laev was apparently also rejected by TDI. That's unconfirmed, but it has been months since I was told the review board had to meet for a special decision, and I've never heard back. Stated reason, in writing: I reported on her enrollment that she was "indifferent" toward other dogs. They wanted me to check "friendly." (Interestingly enough, the letter which told me she'd undergo review also instructed me to simply check "friendly" and return the form, which I did though I found it very odd. Still never heard anything back.)

Now, the latest update:
Though I've yet to receive an answer to my questions, I have received an invoice for the renewal of our TDI team registration. They want another check.

That's right. They cashed my check without accepting either of my dogs, and now they want me to pay for another year of non-acceptance.

I'm fully aware that blogging on this means we'll never be accepted (TDI is aware of my posts), but I'm growing more and more comfortable with that. I'm hearing from other people complaining that TDI personnel are often both disorganized and rude.

Quick rant.... TDI is reluctant to accept a dog focused on her handler and her tasks instead of seeking to greet any other dogs in the area -- isn't a therapy dog supposed to interact with patients instead of other therapy dogs? That should be a benefit, it seems. And a special review board for indifference? Indifference is not risky!

The sad thing is, I've now turned down several requests for visits. My friend Melissa is developing a program for a couple dozen facilities. We encourage them to use only tested dogs, to develop and keep a high-quality program, and yet now that means I bar myself from participation. Who loses here? Not me, not my dogs, not TDI (who cashed my check anyway). The kids lose. Something's wrong with this picture.

The Escape Artist

2008-12-02T11:26:00.006-05:00

So last week I went on vacation. It was a great vacation -- 10 people (two full families with assorted attachments and hangers-on) on a cruise in the Caribbean. Very fun and relaxing, and I did definitely need a break.

I called our usual petsitter (whom I highly recommend) and also called in a friend to help supplement with extra visits, as our sitter was very busy over the holidays. The dogs and cats were to be visited twice a day.

I mentioned briefly that my husband had wondered if Laev had escaped her kennel once, a week or so before. He had put her in, he thought, and then left and returned home to find her at the gate to greet him. However, this was an isolated incident -- I even tested by leaving Laev for quite a while, and she stayed in. No other escapes, and she's in the kennel for at least a while almost daily. I wondered if perhaps Jon had been distracted while he kenneled her; he's been known to do such things with a book in his hand. :-) But just in case, I let the petsitter know and left an emergency recall whistle on the counter.

This whistle means one thing -- copious amounts of cream cheese to the dog who gets here promptly. I have it because originally, I used a whistle where Laev was too far to really hear my voice (she looked around for the source of the sound and then noticed me) and then I realized that it could be trained as a cue itself (duh!) and used by more than one person.

But, Laev has been in that kennel for almost three years with a perfect safety record. I figured it was a freak thing -- the door wasn't latched properly or something.

So, Sunday morning we flew out to the Caribbean. Sunday evening, I was spazzing out because of phone calls from my pet watching crew....

It seems Laev didn't wait long before making her move. Thank God I had left Melissa's number on my voice mail, because the person who found her -- after she had escaped both her kennel and our surrounding 5' fence -- was able to call her. Laev's collar tag reads "ALONE = LOST!" and I'm glad the family believed that instead of thinking that she was just a roamer.

So Laev went back in the kennel and promptly got out again. My poor pet-sitters blocked the gap under the front gate through which she left (Laev does not dig new holes, that I've ever seen, but we know that she will take advantage of holes made by others -- and she's lithe enough to use raccoon paths, etc.) and went over her kennel minutely. They reattached the sides to the floor where staples had worked loose, they rewired the sides themselves to reduce flexing between panels. Yet they'd find Laev outside the kennel (but still within our perimeter fence, at least). Once Laev was so happy to be running free that Amy had to use the whistle to get her back to the house. Good thing it was there!

So Laev's lifestyle got a lot more cramped; she stayed in the crate indoors except for brief potty breaks. This wasn't ideal by any means, but it was the safest option remaining. The dog is an eel, when it comes to body movement, and no one wanted to risk losing her again.

So Laev was just a bit... WIRED when we returned Sunday night. Fortunately, we had training scheduled for Monday night! I am very, very grateful to my excellent pet-sitters, who had to deal with such a stressful situation (above and beyond what they signed up for!).

Our best guess at the moment is that Laev is using her dog house as a launch point to go over the 7' kennel walls and then dropping 9' to the ground. (The kennel roof was destroyed in a storm this year.) We've moved the dog house, and we're looking into new kennel/roofing options. Sheesh! At least she's safe for now.

The Herding Pig, or, Babe in Texas

2008-11-15T01:41:00.000-05:00

I got this link in the mail. I don't know if Squeaky can enter competitive herding trials ;-) but I suspect she doesn't take direction well. Even so, it's interesting footage....

Laev goes to school again.

2008-11-13T13:08:00.001-05:00

I'd been asked to do a training demo for an ESL classroom, as they've been doing a unit on dogs. I waited until the last moment to decide which dog to take, and I made a fairly arbitrary decision -- Shakespeare needs a nail trim, so Laev went with me.

This was under our own name, as Shakespeare is not a therapy dog now and I have never heard back on Laev's status. (At this point, I don't really want them to accept her -- the registration and fee is based on the calendar year, so if months later they do register her as a TDI therapy dog, it would be valid for only another month and then I would have to pay the full amount again. Hardly worth it, and I have my own insurance.)

But that was just fine, as I can't do a training demo under TDI visit rules, anyway; I talk specifically about shaping and reinforcement, and I am NOT going to try to use a tug reinforcer in a crowded classroom of 100 or so kids. Nope. We use food treats, so we could not go as a TDI team anyway.

We were a little late arriving to the school, due to a traffic accident, and had to hurry past lots of kids in the hallway. As we were about to enter the classroom, the teacher mentioned that there was another dog already in the room as well. "Is that okay?"

"Sure," I answered without thinking. Laev works past other dogs all the time. And I took her in.

The other dog turned out to belong to one of the teachers; apparently she comes to class sometimes and possibly serves as a reading dog. She was on the opposite side of the room and very intent on Laev as we entered. Someone said they would take the other dog out.

Something whirred deep inside my brain, but I was in Demo Mode, not in Good Trainer Mode. I should have taken Laev right out the door again and taken her down the hall as the other dog exited, but Demo Mode was telling me, "These kids didn't come for you to tease them with a dog and then leave, and you're already 15 minutes late!" So I moved Laev away from the door into the open space left in the center of the rows of kids on the floor and parked her on her mat.

There wasn't much space in the room; it was filled with kids. There was a 3' wide path from the door and a clearing in the middle of the room. The other dog had to reach the door, and so had to come by us. And she was dragging and leaning hard toward Laev, lots of eyeballs.

I really don't think the other dog meant to be aggressive; she struck me as a very typical rude adolescent, or possibly an adult who never learned correct social manners. But Laev, in a down on her mat with dozens of kids behind her, felt threatened by the lunging staring dog, and she barked defensively.

It was a bark. She never even left the mat, much less was there any contact between the two dogs. But even a single defensive noise can sound scary. The kids erupted with, "Whoa!" and the teacher snatched his dog away and out. I took Laev's collar, had her target my hand, and tried, "Well, that's one of the things we're going to talk about today, how to behave safely around dogs...."

I think we actually recovered decently. I got a student to shake hands with me and show polite human greetings, and then I lunged at her with over-the-top effervescence. We talked about how it made her uncomfortable, and that was why Laev barked at the other dog -- and why when WE greet dogs, we have to be careful to do it safely so we don't scare them.

Several kids were selected to practice greeting Laev, and things went better from there. I was a bit rattled, though -- I am always so sensitive to appearances, especially with yet another breed ban revving up locally, and then I was especially fretful when I talked about using reinforcement instead of punishment. Were any of the teachers wondering, "Yeah, and that obviously produces a dangerous dog?" But I don't think we left a bad impression, I hope, though my part wasn't nearly so smooth as usual.

So we did some shaping demos with Laev and kids both, and we talked about dog training and teaching incompatible behaviors to get rid of unwanted behavior, and Laev flipped over for her "dead bug" trick while I was occupied and it got so many giggles that she never really stopped doing it again.... I think it ended okay, but I just felt sub-standard.

Someone told me that the other dog had dragged toward the visiting service dogs, too. It's sad, because that's probably a very nice dog, really. I hate the dog park culture that says all dogs must be friends and that all friendly dogs may rush one another, and that any dog who doesn't appreciate being rushed isn't friendly or a good dog. If we don't accept glomping from strangers, why do we allow or even encourage it in our dogs?

End of soapbox. There was no harm, no foul, today. I just am hypersensitive to such things, I think.

And at least some kids got to practice dog safety and learn about reinforcement. I hope that was useful to someone.

I need more words!

2008-11-12T23:25:00.001-05:00

I am very pleased with how I have taught the turn and down for Laev's Schutzhund sendaway. The behavior is strong, capable of overriding a previous cue, and precise. Most importantly, it has low latency. So I get an instant turn and a nice straight down, which just looks pretty.

I'm getting ready for some "normal" indoor ring obedience after our Schutzhund trial and I am thinking, drat, I should have trained that with a sit as well for our send outs. I wonder now if I've built in the down too strongly, in that context, so that sit will be harder to learn....

Regardless, I'll need something to call it. "Down" means for Laev to hit the deck wherever she is, while "platz" means to turn to face me and then lie down. I will need something equally precise for Laev to turn and sit, because "sit" means to plant her rear without moving from that spot. (Yes, I know the dogs can get it in different situations, but why mess with a good thing when I know she can learn precision with specific cues?)

But German and Danish sound too much like the English "sit," so I don't want to use them. I could use Czech, I suppose -- haven't tried that yet, and Laev's sire was a Czech dog. Or I could use Japanese; she has only two Japanese cues so far, both relating to bitework.

Or it could be something really clever, instead of just another word for "sit." I knew someone who trained her entire AKC Utility routine in Star Trek language; her go out cue was "engage." There ought to be some clever option I just haven't thought of yet.

Suggestions are welcome. :-)

Chocolate Calculator for Dogs

2008-11-10T15:15:00.002-05:00

A friend sent this link. While the scrolling breeds on the right are a bit silly -- some of those weights are suspect, and at any rate the "Doberman Pinscher" photo is clearly a Dachshund -- the data is certainly good to have. Everyone knows chocolate is bad for dogs, but sometimes people don't think about what's really in there.

The Chocolate Chart Interactive

Why I'm Frustrated With TDI

2008-10-27T00:04:00.031-04:00

I am well aware that this post might sound whiny, but in truth, this isn't just about my dog. This is disillusionment with a service organization which is supposed to be helping people.

I got a letter from TDI Saturday night, informing me that they have rejected Shakespeare as a therapy dog. My collected frustrations with TDI have been building for a while; this was just the trigger to actually post them publicly.

Shakespeare had tested with TDI years before and passed. He passed this last test in July with flying colors as well. However, the organization asked for more information because I had checked a box that yes, my dog has been in a dog fight. So I sent a letter explaining that once I was attacked by a German Shepherd (a recent rescue, found wandering and dragging a chain after a tornado -- bad breeding, no socialization, no training, no chance at being a decent dog, and traumatized), and Shakespeare had come to my defense. Shakespeare showed no aggression toward the Shepherd before the dog came at me and another dog (probably targeting the other dog), and he ignored the Shepherd again afterward. I myself considered the action appropriate for a breed made specifically to guard and protect the handler, and I appreciated the fact that he ignored the offending dog when there was no threat.

I explained in the letter that Shakespeare has never started a fight, that Shakespeare has been the usual neutral dog for countless CGC tests, temperament tests, training sessions for reactive dogs, etc. Shakespeare has logged visits and greetings with literally thousands of schoolchildren. I provided a half-dozen professional references, in case they didn't want to take just my word for it.

But their letter said that they could not accept Shakespeare as a therapy dog. It seems that they did not speak with even one of the references I provided. Despite the fact that Shakespeare served as the neutral dog for TDI evaluations, they stated he could be a risk "if he were to encounter another dog while on a visit."

Even the most cursory glance at his resume should have indicated that Shakespeare "encounters other dogs" regularly. Why was I asked for additional information if it were not to be used in the review process?

When I told a friend that he'd been rejected, my friend just started laughing. It had to be a joke. After all, we've already had a number of visit requests this fall, but we hadn't gotten Shakespeare's paperwork back.

I do applaud their taking the time to review the situation; therapy dogs should be carefully evaluated. But I am frustrated that this decision was made apparently fairly arbitrarily, without consulting anyone who actually knows the dog in question or my handling. I did include references for their use, after all.

But this is just the icing on the cake, so to speak. While we're on the topic of arbitrary and frustrating, I am feeling pretty disillusioned for a number of additional reasons.

Communication (1) It has been more than three months, and I have still never heard anything regarding Laev. Are they planning to reject her, too? Have they accepted her? When should I expect to hear anything on this topic?

Communication (2) I have yet to see any email to TDI answered. Yes, I am emailing directly through their website.

The last time I wrote was several weeks ago, after a client found that her evaluator had interpreted two test points differently than we had in practice. I wrote a polite inquiry asking for clarification, so that we could be sure we were giving correct information to those who wanted to volunteer for the organization. No answer of any sort.

Our local TDI organizer also complains of intermittent communication. She was told by the office that TDI is comprised primarily of volunteers and we shouldn't expect better.

Excuse me, there are LOTS of organizations comprised entirely of volunteers! I myself AM a volunteer for some of them. I try to answer email within 24 hours as much as possible, even for work for which I'm not being paid. Failing to respond entirely is just rude to the volunteer handlers.

Inconsistent Evaluations. I have observed several TDI evaluations. At one, the TDI evaluator passed several dogs which were displaying clear discomfort or even fear-aggression (piloerection, backing away, defensive barking, even a muzzle punch at the wheelchair). Two of the dogs I was reasonably sure were bite risks; one of the handlers even said as much about her dog. (I have no idea why anyone would bring such a dog for therapy evaluation...!) I was amazed that the evaluator passed them all.

I spoke afterward with several other observers, all of whom had separately noted the same issues. Two of them took it upon themselves to write to TDI with their concerns; a risky dog benefits no one and in fact puts all therapy teams at risk. Their letters were very carefully worded, politely suggesting that these passing teams should perhaps be further evaluated and, perhaps, more education provided for the evaluator.

Neither of those letters ever received any acknowledgment or response from TDI. (Again, communication!) Those dubious dogs are currently registered with TDI and handlers have publicly posted their scheduled visits. I consider this amazingly irresponsible; a bite from one of these dogs would affect not only the victim, but many other therapy teams and all those patients, residents, or participants who would subsequently be denied access to therapy visits.

Unreasonable Self-Importance. Some local TDI teams rented a booth (at their cost) at a local festival to spread the word, seeking to attract additional volunteers for TDI and also to promote TDI's services and get therapy teams in more places. These people spent their own money and stood for hours in cold and wet to promote the organization.

The organizer asked TDI for signage; we had used donated signs at a previous event but we were told that official TDI banners needed to be used instead.

The organizer was told that she would be sent a banner, but it was for single use only, she was completely responsible for its condition, and she had to ship it back when the festival was over. She had to fax back a contract stating that she was responsible for the banner before they would ship it. This was obviously a big deal to the TDI office and represented a substantial investment; she was very excited about the great banner which would come, giving a real professional air to the festival booth!

The banner arrived. It was paper. About 11" tall. Just letters on paper, not even a logo. No grommets for hanging; there was no way to display the banner without using tape and thereby risking damage. There was no way to display it outdoors, especially in the damp, without risking damage. And it did not really lend a professional appearance to the booth. The banner looked so sad, in fact, that she was embarrassed to be using it instead of what a local print shop had donated previously. Fortunately, the print shop contact had a good sense of humor about it.

What possible justification, I wonder, is there for the TDI office to be so obnoxiously insistent about this, to the point of requiring a faxed contract? Do they really have to hold volunteers contractually responsible for the condition and shipping of a cheap paper roll?

This is all very frustrating. On one hand, I feel strongly that good therapy teams can do a great deal of real good, and that there needs to be an evaluating body to make sure that there is a quality control standard for those therapy teams. I do talk about the documented health benefits of therapy animals and I do want to participate locally with my own trained dogs.

On the other hand, I am indignant at the shoddy treatment our local volunteers receive, with inconsistent information, intermittent communication, and high-handed treatment. I feel guilty when I hesitate to encourage someone to try therapy work, but sometimes I do hesitate when interested clients ask, because I don't feel I'm referring them to a truly organized body.

I have heard better reports of Delta Society, though I have not worked with them firsthand. Unfortunately, I won't be able to work with them; their rules automatically preclude any dogs with Schutzhund experience. This is quite silly, in my opinion; it's equivalent to saying that because I have trained in martial arts, I cannot be trusted to volunteer safely at a library's literacy program. But those are their rules, so we can't even try.

I am just so frustrated and disillusioned. I thought this would be a good program, and it should be one.

And it's not really about Shakespeare. That's disappointing, sure, but really it's not worth getting angry about. I have been (strongly) advised to cut back on my severe overbooking and I don't really have time for frequent therapy visits, anyway. I do understand the need for high standards for therapy dogs -- of course!! -- and I can see that they should be concerned about a dog who reacted strongly to another dog's aggression.

But I feel punished for honesty; if I'd interpreted the question as, "Has your dog ever started a dog fight?" and checked No, we'd be approved. Heck, Laev and I were rushed by a (completely different) German Shepherd while training for the AD. I fortunately had repellent spray with me and blasted him in the face. He followed us for another quarter mile, keeping a wary distance while I offered constant verbal threats. As I understand the TDI review board's decision, if I hadn't had the spray with me, Laev might also be ineligible for therapy work, having been involved in a fight.

(Frankly, if I had a choice between a Doberman who let his person be endangered and was accepted for therapy work, or a Doberman who defended his person and was rejected, I'd prefer to have the real, correct Doberman who defended his human. A Dobe who doesn't protect his person isn't a Doberman!)

But for the sake of the other volunteers and for those who could benefit from more therapy teams, I wish TDI were more organized and more respectful of those who do want to help. There's no reason that they couldn't be a really excellent resource for animal-assisted therapy work.

I'm behind in posting

2008-10-14T10:39:00.000-04:00

I have two weeks worth of news and updates. Some are good, some are less so. :-/ But I also have a weekend of KPA assessments to write up, which should obviously take priority, and then I'll try to move on to Laev's stuff.

In the meantime, though, here's a fun image. Last night during obedience, Laev tugged hard enough to rip our toy into two pieces. It wasn't the sturdiest of our toys, but it wasn't a cheap box store tug, either. (I think she's obviously back to playing wholeheartedly with me after her few months of inhibition due to pain.)

Her obedience last night was alternately distracted and brilliant. Her protection work was extremely sub-par. But, that needs to be another post, so I can get work done...!

Proud of My Dog.

2008-10-01T17:27:00.000-04:00

It's not always about stuff going wrong or funny stories. Today's post is just about me being happy that my dog is working well in most things.

Laev's protection work is coming along very well; I am really pleased with it. Her outs off a live helper are fast and clean and ultra-reliable. Her hold and bark is lovely. She's backing very prettily into heel position when I call her out of the blind, though we need more work on staying at heel when I then call the helper out of the blind. Not her fault; we just haven't worked on it.

This past week the lightbulb came on for her that the side transport is REALLY just right-side heeling with the helper. I don't use the cue "heel" with this exercise because some judges will fault the dog looking at me during the transport.

This week I transported the helper to a "judge" during practice and then cued Laev to heel away. She is used to getting a bite on the helper during a side transport, to reward proper position and attention, and she told me quite clearly that I was stupidly forgetting something! We heeled away a few steps and then I sent her to the helper for a bite.

OH, Laev said. Why didn't you say so?

Our next repetition, she heeled away readily with me, practically dancing. She knew what was coming if she stuck with me. She's quick, she is.

Also this week she started putting together the send-away and distant down. I have been backchaining that, teaching first a distant face-me-and-lie-down cue and separately a send to a target, and then only recently combining them. This week for the first time I interrupted her run to the target with the distant face-me-and-down cue (at a shorter distance of only 25' or so) and she did it correctly twice out of two attempts. I'll take that. Now we just need more distance.

Her retrieves are almost exactly where I want them. I want a bit more speed on the flat retrieve, but her jumps are looking good. The retrieve over the wall is stressful for me! because I can't see her working, but she's doing it well.

She's still on the long line, though. I don't trust her entirely free. She's left me twice on that field to search for raccoons and squirrels, and she's not getting a chance to play at that again, not for a long, long time.

I do need to start chaining the full obedience routine together. She's got all the pieces; we just need it all at once!

Her tracking is improving, but I need to do a lot more of it. I don't like tracking; I can't practice bits of it in my kitchen. ;-) I need to get out to more fields, but I just don't do it often enough.

The only bad news is that my club's trial date was moved back. Now we're trialing mid-December. While that gives us more time to polish tracking, it means nasty cold weather, the kind that makes slick-coated Dobermans very uncomfortable on long obedience downs. I've threatened to dig out the honor down spot on the field and bury a radiant heating pad; I wonder if the judge will notice if there's no snow there?!

Anyway, I can't slack off, but I am not panicking, either. I hope I don't have to eat those words later!

Fat Lot of Useless! A funny story about a lack of practical skills.

2008-09-23T22:25:00.000-04:00

"Do more night tracking." This was the advice of a training buddy while I was having trouble with Laev. His dog was sighting for articles and it had helped them as a team.

Laev's issue wasn't sighting for articles or flags, and more night tracking would probably just result in greater injury for me faceplanting while Laev tracked at high speed. However, I didn't get to leave as early as I wanted tonight, and we reached the park at twilight. So I quickly laid a track and tried to get started before dark.

We just barely made it, though well after technical sunset. I could see my hot pink tracking flags when I was within ten feet of them. I certainly wasn't giving Laev any help on the track, that's for sure!

We didn't spend as long settling before the track, because I was worried about the light. I had my phone clipped to my jeans and a protection-trained Doberman with me (meaning that at a word I could set her to looking nasty enough to call someone's bluff, even if she isn't trained to bite a regular human), so I wasn't as worried about being alone in the park at night, but I did want a chance of success on the track and I wanted to be able to see if Laev missed a corner or veered too far from the footprints. So after some sit-fronts and calm downs, we started with a trail of kibbles to the start flag.

Laev launched, it was ugly, and I disgustedly pulled her back to restart. I got her eating off the scent pad and we started again, still emotionally higher than I'd like but at least really tracking and eating. Already I'd lost the correct direction of the first leg but I trusted my dog and the reassuring crunching of kibble telling me she was indeed on the track. Her first corner caught me totally off-guard, but she was correct. At least I know she's not secretly reading the track from me!

I'd added articles back onto the track, and her first article was very nice, even though I barely saw it before she did. Whee! At least that's held together! I know my cue to track is extremely loaded, and so I just breathed it as a whisper at the same moment that I set a little pile of higher value food between her paws. She ate it and then set off down the track.

Trouble came a few minutes later when Laev realized there were CRITTERS coming out of the woods. Hey, at a popular park, the local wildlife probably eats well and has little fear. Laev started to get frantic and I downed her. We waited, Laev staring intently into the dark toward the trees, me watching Laev, until she finally relented enough to eat a kibble off the track while she watched. I reached into my treat bag, fed her some higher value food, and cued her to track.

LAUNCH! Laev careened down the track, pouring all her critter frustration into her work. I couldn't even properly fix her, without being able to see where exactly the track was. Somehow she fell onto the right path and an incidental pile of kibble, and I guess the fact that it was dinnertime won out. She slowed enough to eat the pile and proceeded to track, though fast, to the next article. There she downed promptly. "Oh, yeah, this!"

She wasn't calm enough to start slowly again, though. She leapt right over the offered food and set off down the track, clearly torn between track and critters. I think, though I am not sure, she missed a corner and picked up the next leg, but she did end cleanly (if speedily) and downed nicely on the final article. I fed her copiously and took her back to the car.

RACOON! Laev scented it, but I saw it before she did, hiding behind a bush. It ran as Laev was clearly hunting it, and she shrieked her fury at being unable to give chase. She did hold herself, actually, after the first couple of seconds, and she sat between my legs and screamed. I apologized for being a terrible mean handler who wouldn't let her chase the local wildlife and loaded her into her crate. Collar off, line coiled, treat bag and articles put away, mobile phone--

Mobile phone. I'd lost my phone.

I looked over the dark field. Stink. There was no way I was going to find it in the pitch blackness that we had now.

But I had a tracking dog! The phone was somewhere along the track, that was certain. And it was saturated in my scent. Laev couldn't ask for a better article.

Unfortunately, Laev's thinking was that we had already run that track once, a second time would be boring as heck and there were RACOOOOOOONS in the dark! Prey prey prey prey prey! So our search ended up being me scuffling along behind Laev as she scanned for critters. Fortunately I hadn't been stupid enough to give any real cues; as my husband quotes, "A good general is one who doesn't give an order he knows won't be obeyed."

Maybe now is a good time to mention that last night, the same training buddy who had recommended night tracking had lost his phone on the training field. He found it himself, as our club field is well-lit. Hmm.

I kept an eye on the car that cruised slowly past, but it wasn't security -- whom I would have asked to call my phone -- or anyone who stopped for less altruistic purposes. Laev glanced briefly at the car and went back to sniffing the air.

So picture us, unable to find my phone. At all. And it's not necessarily Laev's fault, as I had picked up our tracking flags and had no idea exactly where our track had run. It's a big field and I couldn't see any landmarks at all in the dark. I was wishing now I'd trained for the StP (Random Article Search); at least then I could put Laev on a long line and send her back and forth to search for anything with human scent.

Still, there I was, in a field, with a very talented scenting dog and no way to find my lost article. This was pathetic.

But Laev is not interested in human scent, she wants racoons. I want my phone, which has all of my business information on it. Finally I return to my car and, in a fit of inspiration, get my Bluetooth headphones I was using to listen to an audiobook. If I could get within 30' or so, I would be able to get a signal between headphones and phone!

So I began wandering the field pressing the voice dial button on my headphones, waiting for an answering beep. I didn't even know if the headphones would wake the phone, which would have shut itself down by now. Meanwhile, Laev was dragging hard toward what must have been a racoon party, but I held my ground.

Success! I got a static-y response from the phone, and I quickly told it to dial my husband's number. If I could just get him calling my phone, I could track the sound of the ring!

Straight to voicemail. Bad husband! I started swinging about, heading in different directions as the static increased or faded while the chirpy automated voice told me I could leave a message. I felt rather like one of the Baileys' spy cats, tracing a directional tone. By the time the voice stopped, I had achieved a pretty solid connection, and I guessed I was within 25' or so of the phone.

I tried another voice dial, thinking of others I could reach to ask to ring my phone, and as I spun around I was rewarded with a glimmer of light from the black ground. My phone! That was my screen, lighting up for the voice tag!

Laev and I hurried toward it, and she gave it a cursory sniff. I quickly cued her to "find it," an informal cue to indicate, and she picked it up. Dummy. I had her drop it and indicate, and I treated her for pointing to the phone. Who knows, maybe that will come in handy in the future.

Hm. Maybe I will train for the StP.

Our Tracking Is Made of Win. (And a Freaky Moment.

2008-09-21T01:30:00.000-04:00

I was running late this morning when Laev started fussing in the crate. I told her irritably from the bathroom to wait a moment, that I was hurrying. As I started brushing my teeth, however, I turned back and noticed that she was shaking.

I crouched in front of her crate, toothbrush dangling from my mouth, and saw that her head was trembling horizontally. It looked like a minor seizure. Laev was alert, though, and responded normally to my cues to lie down and look at me. I yelled for my husband to bring me a dog biscuit, and as soon as she ate it, the shaking ended.

This is almost certainly ideopathic tremor syndrome, something that turns up occasionally in Dobermans and some bulldog breeds. Symptoms are head shaking (vertical or horizontal), the dog may not seem to notice, and the episode often ends when the dog eats. It sometimes shows up and then vanishes forever; it sometimes worsens with time. Affected dogs may show increased incidents when stressed. I don't think it's associated with developing into full epilepsy. Anti-seizure drugs do not reduce frequency. Today's research yielded that current theories range from deep cerebellum disease to a kind of stereotypy.

I haven't seen it in Laev before, though I did have a foster who demonstrated it twice and then never again. It was kind of freaky to see it, though. She hasn't been unduly stressed of late, I hadn't done any diet change yet, and Laev's at about as small a risk for stereotypy as possible; she has a very enriched life. Despite the apparent lack of cause, I was pretty sure I knew what was going on -- I learned about head tremors on a list-serve when I first got into Dobermans -- but just in case, I stayed home for a bit so that if she started exhibiting other symptoms, I could get her quickly to our vet.

That meant we tracked in our field again. I laid a track, came in and did some quick research on tremors (no new info in the last few years, it seems), and then took Laev out to track. Down, treat, hand target, treat. More down and treat. I was using a new treat, a grain-free kibble which I felt was a good size for tracking and still healthy. (She'd never had it before, so this new sample wasn't responsible for triggering her episode.)

Laev seemed to be relaxing into the down, but finally she just couldn't take any more and she leapt from a down straight forward toward the track. I blocked with the line and downed her again. Treats between her paws. I finally dropped a treat far enough forward that she had to crawl for it, and then stand up and eat, and then follow the little trail of kibbles I was dropping for her to lead her silently and sneakily toward the scent pad, which was well-laid with more kibble.

Once she hit the scent pad, I did NOT cue her to track. I've learned that the cue is loaded with excitement! She eased herself onto the track and set off.

Oh, wow. I haven't seen such a wonderful track from her in ages. She never got frantic, she nailed the first serpentine and every curve and corner thereafter except one -- but even then, when she realized she was off, instead of becoming frantic she simply made a tight circle and picked up the track again. She was slow, methodical, ate most of her kibbles, and kept no real pressure on the tracking line. This is a dog who, for the first year, forced me to wrap her line behind me and SIT on it as she tracked.

Because I am a greedy trainer, I even backed down the line on a straight leg and let her work further ahead of me than usual, which didn't faze her in the least. I closed up again before the final corner.

The biggest flaw was at the end, when she didn't want to down on the article. I think she was enjoying the track too much and was resistent to the idea of it ending. I went up and encouraged her to indicate, and then I reinforced with a higher value food, lots of it, before calmly ending the track.

I was very pleased, overall. As I told my club members when I went to join them for bitework, just a seizure or two before the trial, and we'll be fine....

I did take Laev for bitework, as she seemed totally fine. I loaded her into the car after the track and went back to the house to get keys, etc. Shakespeare must have seen us from a window, because he went out the door, checked briefly on Laev in the car, and then ran to the field and the start flag. As I left, he was methodically working out Laev's track, picking up the kibbles she'd left. I called to him that he was a wonderfully brilliant dog.

Laev's bitework was mostly fine, though she got uncomfortably hot and confused during the first session. It was warm today. I need to balance on the fine point between anticipation of control -- her call to heel from the hold and bark is really nice now -- and letting her be crazy and pushy and demanding -- she was starting to anticipate a call to heel and was staying out a bit further and glancing back, wanting the next step in the chain. A few bites for a good hold and bark seemed to cure that, but I have to be sure that I don't reinforce her checking back in anticipation....

There was one incident in her first session when the helper slipped the sleeve before I arrived to collect Laev. Laev joyfully headed toward the car with her prize. I called her, but she was a bit reluctant to share her prize with me, passing and circling, so I stepped behind a blind. (My disappearing is Laev's worst nightmare.) She looked for me quickly, reported club members, and then she headed for the pond. With the sleeve.

I jumped out and called her again, running after her, and she turned at the water's edge and I got her. The next time the helper slipped the sleeve, I played tug with it and her, emphasizing that bringing me her win is a good thing.

We did a bit of side transport work in the second session, which we've spent a little time on but not a whole lot. I really saw Laev "get it" at the end, and she was doing very nice right-side heeling on the helper with me just along for the ride, the way most judges like to see it. Needs some polish, but I'm happy with it for now.

So... more good tracking in our future, I hope?!

Laev Loves a Parade.

2008-09-20T15:41:00.002-04:00

Last Saturday morning we went out and did some drive-building with a toy and segued into some nice heeling. Then I packed up Laev -- Shakespeare was already in the car -- and drove down to join a parade.

A nearby library has a reading therapy program, Paws to Read, for local schoolkids. Shakespeare and Laev will be participating with this program when their paperwork is done, and so they were marching in the parade. This would be stimulating enough, but the parade's theme (for some reason, despite the season) was Mardi Gras.

So Alena and I got into costume -- we do a lot of costumes -- and I made some uber-cheap dog costumes as well. These were "totally ghetto," as competitive costuming slang goes, being constructed of cheap felt and hot glue, but they looked pretty decent. Both Dobermans were decorating in red barding and fake bridles so that they looked like medieval horses.

Well, I thought they looked like medieval horses. So did my friends, and at least one spectator kid. But the majority of comments we got were something like, "Oh, look at the jester dogs! They're like, um, something!"

Considering that I looked like a Comedia d'Arte character, I guess that's okay.

So both dogs had to navigate costumed characters (including large mascot characters), lots of swarming and petting kids, noise, music, floats, other dogs, and flying candy. Laev did great on everything except the flying candy. She LOVES sugar. So as we walked down the street, she'd occasionally drop her head to snatch a sucker and gulp it whole, wrapper and stick and all. I didn't worry too much; it was all edible or just paper, it wasn't going to hurt her, and I didn't want to fuss at her too much. Nor did I want to go down her throat for a sucker in front of a streetful of people, most of whom would probably guess that I was choking her with my Mardi Gras mask.

Shakespeare was a pro, as usual, though he seemed more affected by the heat. I guess that's a sign of his age, which is kind of sad. It was quite warm, though.

Lots of pictures were taken, but I have received very few. Here's one, though, of Laev resting before the parade started.

I particularly like this photo because of what you *can't* see -- just outside the frame are a half dozen strange dogs, two or three costumed mascot characters, and a couple of kids. Laev was lying calmly with her back to them, ignoring the whole thing -- not turning away out of stress, just indifferent. I liked her blase attitude.

More mistaken identity!

2008-09-11T13:28:00.000-04:00

Just a few days after I was asked if I were Karen Pryor (due to my KPA polo shirt), I learned that Melissa Alexander works at my training facility!

Someone pointed out this post on a local pet forum, which confuses my friend Melissa Heigl with Melissa Alexander. My friend Melissa Heigl was laughing and quite pleased. We haven't asked Melissa Alexander. :-)

The good news is, these are not clicker-specific venues; mainstream folk are using names from clicker publishing without prompting. I am pleased to see how much clicker knowledge is getting out there!

Our Tracking is Full of Fail -- Minus 2%.

2008-09-10T22:09:00.001-04:00

So, that didn't start well.

A couple of posts ago I mentioned that Laev's tracking is full of fail, because she is just too darned enthusiastic about the track. So I have a new de-revving program for her, and tonight I laid two tracks. The first, for Laev, had lots of food, angles, serpentines. The second had no food except at the start pad but had three articles in its short length.

I returned to the house -- I'd used my own field -- and brought Shakespeare out to track the second one, leaving the first to age. Laev screamed in protest; apparently she'd seen me laying the track from a window. Shakespeare did his track happily, enjoying his treats on the articles. I returned to trade dogs.

"That dog is wired," my husband warned me of Laev. "It's crazy. It wants to track."

Yep, Laev had been mightily offended that she had watched me lay a track and then been left behind as I took the other dog. I knew I was going to have to ride that out as we went through our new calming routine before beginning the track, but I was prepared.

Or not.

I asked Laev to sit on the porch as I put her tracking long link on. She sat, for a short time, and then she exploded. She ran away toward the field where I'd laid tracks, hearing nothing at all of a recall. By the time I got there, she was galloping along the track, air scenting frantically and ignoring all the food.

I stood at the head of the track and called her. She came to me but then bolted again when I asked her to down. Repeat. She came to me, I treated and grabbed her collar, and then I downed her.

Right. Calm starts. Good one, Laura.

I put Laev's equipment on and stroked her for a long time. I also reflected that perhaps mosquito happy hour was not the best time for calm long downs.

I treated Laev, petted her, and tried to get her to relax enough that I could rub her belly. Not a prayer, she knew the track was there! But after a while, she was willing to eat treats off the ground as we walked and I dropped them, so that was a good sign.

We edged toward the start flag and I dropped some treats on the ground, working slowly into the scent pad. She ate treats, sniffed, ate treats, realized that she was on the track, and launched.

Fortunately she was frantic for only a few steps before she settled into sniffing and eating again, about four footsteps' worth. After that she looked pretty good, 'til she got to a corner, which for some reason sent her back into air scenting again. She got a bit wired -- it hadn't been that far under the surface -- and I had to down her on the track, which really peeved her. I treated her in the down, stroked her, praised her, and when she was calm, I soothingly whispered, "Track." I even dropped a treat just ahead of her as I cued.

Okay, so, memo to self: "Track" is a very loaded word. She launched right over the treat and landed on the track.

Recovery was pretty quick again, however, and she seemed to settle into a better working mode. She still didn't eat all the food on the track, but she did better. She was hesitant to down on the single article at the end, but I fed her on the article for a while, trying to ease out of the track as well. Then I took off her collar and line and went to collect my flags while she wandered the field, wondering at this weird finish.

So we might be on to something, but it's going to take some better management to know for sure. We'll try again and see what we get!

"Are You Karen Pryor?"

2008-09-09T01:01:00.000-04:00

Saturday I was at a farm show and pet expo, where I gave a couple of demos and handed out information on dog training. This was the first year for the pet expo, held in conjunction with the popular farm show, and it wound up a bit early. I walked over to the other side of the fairgrounds to check out some farming gear, buildings, equipment, beef cattle, and more.

It was a warm day and I'd been working most of it, so I stepped up to buy a drink from a vendor. He glanced at my shirt -- I was wearing my Karen Pryor Academy polo, just in case I enticed a student -- and asked, "Are you Karen Pryor?"

He was just making conversation based upon my shirt, of course, so I answered a bit flippantly, "No, but I work for her!" as I dug out my cash.

"Karen Pryor the animal trainer?" he asked as he brought my Coke. "Really?"

A woman came to join him at the window. "Really?"

So we ended up chatting for a moment, and I left them with a URL to see my chicken training video from some of my workshops with Bob Bailey.

Tonight, however, I was reminded quite clearly that I am not, in fact, Karen Pryor. I put Laev's long link chain collar (our standard Schutzhund training collar, as it's required for competition) and long line on her, prepared to work on send-outs on the field. I couldn't find a training target, though, and I left Laev in a down so I could check in the barn. (Because there had been a C-A-T in the area, though, I put the line on the live ring of the collar so she couldn't slip out in case of sudden temptation, and I kept the end of the line in my hand as I went into the barn.)

Well, no target in the barn, so I decided I'd see if someone had left one on the field. I returned to Laev, gathered up the long line, and asked her to heel with me toward the field. Laev gave me lovely eye contact and nice heeling, ignoring both the agility tunnel we passed and the temptation to scan for the C-A-T. I was very proud of her.

It was her new tracking line we were using, which meant we got almost exactly thirty-three feet out before we took up all the slack where I'd locked the end in the barn door. Poor Laev got a sharp collar correction on a live ring for her heeling.

Fortunately, Laev doesn't really "get" collar corrections, and she figured it was just one of those weird and unfortunate things. I, however, felt really stupid. Nope, not Karen Pryor....

"Drive Building." And photos!

2008-09-02T18:14:00.009-04:00

We've been spending some time at the club in "drive building," which is dog slang for building desire and motivation. (Personally, I dislike the term "drive," as its only scientific definition was in a psychology theory discarded decades ago and its many non-scientific definitions make for imprecise discussions at times. But hey, for now, it means "motivation.")

The method we've been using is play on a backtie, with lots of teasing on the handler's part and frustration on the dog's part. This sounds kind of cruel, but it's not, really -- the dogs definitely enjoy it. Restraint on a backtie allows the handler to give up thinking about safety and control and just focus on wild play. It allows the dog to give up thinking about manners and safety and just focus on crazed desire. We can do things safely on a backtie that would be dangerous to dog or human loose together; I'm not built to take that much weight launched at high speed, but the harness can do it safely! And Laev loves the opportunity to REALLY cut loose.

A friend got a new camera this week, and she snapped some photos of Laev working -- playing -- with me. As a bonus, you get to check out my stylish dog-training togs, T-shirt and jeans. In this case, though, it is a B.F. Skinner T-shirt!

"Do ya want it? Do ya really want it?" Actually, I don't say anything nearly so coherent when teasing Laev. But whatever I am saying, she seems to think it worthwhile. Look at the intensity here.

If you ever wondered what Laev would look like with cropped ears.... I'm not losing the tail, though. It's just too much fun -- even if it is a bit dangerous and painful at times.

Yes, look, I'm teaching my dog to resource guard! Don't worry, it's entirely on cue and we don't have problems elsewhere.

It's not all teasing; she does get the toy. Sometimes she gets it even when I intended to only taunt, when her extendible Dober-neck snakes out to snatch it from the complacent handler.

So what's the point of all this? Laev thinks playing with me is even MORE fun, and so we get better results everywhere else. When I set up for a heel, I whisper quietly to her, "Are ya ready?" and she recalls all the energy and fun from these sessions. Sometimes that energy comes out vocally and she'll bark once or twice, but I don't mind; I can always contain energy, which is much easier than creating it! More often, though, her heeling sparkles and looks more, well, fun. As it should. If both ends of the leash aren't having fun, what the heck are we doing here?

However, Laev still loves to play her "real" games, which involve someone bigger, stronger, and meaner than me.

Here she catches a helper on an "escape bite," which means she is left to hold herself in a down until he makes a break for it. Oddly enough, Laev is faster. ;-)

She is committed under threat....

...and check out that nice out! Seriously, I am very proud of her fast outs. I've never used compulsion to get her to out off a helper.

Well, that's Laev's latest update. If we can get her tracking in order, though, I'd feel better....

Our Tracking is Full of Fail

2008-08-26T21:11:00.000-04:00

Laev loves tracking, but she doesn't love 100-point tracking. Laev's idea of tracking is to move at maximum speed over the footprints, air-scenting except where needed, and getting to the end as quickly as possible.

Well, that's not exactly true. That's how she starts, yes, and then she settles into very nice accurate tracking. But I would like to see nice tracking the entire time!

I don't know exactly why this is -- I have never made the end of the track very fun in comparison with the track itself. Friends will play tug at the end of a track, or finish with a pile of food, or chase a ball in the field; Laev's tracks end with an article and then a sit at heel. There is no hurry to reach the end, except in her mind.

For competition, she'll need a deep nose and accurate footprint tracking, so I'm trying to get her more focused. After talking with my club, I decided to go back to serpentines, lots of food in the starting scent pad, and food in nearly every footstep. Tonight I went out to lay a track, and I chose to lay it in ankle-deep grass with lots of inches-thick grass clippings; no racing down this track! To get the food, she was going to have to go slowly and dig a bit for the pieces. This would slow her and require concentration, certainly.

I brought Laev out and dropped her into heel position. Laev loves tracking; I can ask her to heel and work to the track and the cue to track is the reward. She gave me lovely focus, begging for the track, and I cued her to start.

Right off the bat it was ugly. She snatched a single piece of food from the scent pad and rushed off it, already veering off the footprints in her hurry. But she realized her error and got back on the track, and after a moment she seemed to be working better, eating most of the treats and following the track. We were doing all right 'til the first article, which was a piece of PVC I hadn't used before. Laev wanted to skip it, not recognizing it as an article, and when I gently insisted that she should indicate it, she seemed to fall apart. She couldn't really concentrate after that, and she had a terrible time finding and following the track. Even right on it, she skipped every treat -- it was as if it was too much work to pick them up. She (and I) missed the second article, and she was ugly all the way to the end, where I encouraged her to down on the third and final article.

So. If she can't be bothered to eat on the track, then she's clearly not hungry. We went back inside and prepared dinner -- I had even tracked her at dinner time -- and Laev is on short rations. Tomorrow we'll try the same field and see if it's still too much trouble to concentrate to find the food....

I hate wasps.

2008-08-05T02:17:00.001-04:00

Laev's retrieve has been a bit lackluster of late. Okay, worse than lackluster. It had been stellar, but suddenly it vanished -- she would not go out at the first cue, or she would run out to the dumbbell and then do a chin rest upon it rather than bringing it back. I had no idea what was going on.

Probably I'd screwed something up -- it wouldn't be the first time -- but it's relatively pointless to spend time wondering what went wrong instead of just fixing it. So I got some extra-tasty new treats (raw chicken feet!) and got to work.

Within a couple of weeks, Laev was enthusiastic about retrieves and almost always going out on the first cue again. She also is now taking the Schutzhund jumps well. (Schutzhund jumps can be a bit of a challenge; the high jump is 1 meter or 39 inches tall, and the wall is 1.8m or 71" tall, with an angle much steeper than an agility A-frame. The dumbbell to be carried back over these is 650g or roughly 1.5 pounds.) Laev prefered to take the wall in hell-for-leather fashion, which I worried would cause injury, so I trained her to pause at the apex for a treat and then descend. I think this pause will fade smoothly, and it's better to have a slight hesitation than a dog with a damaged front end!

Tonight Laev was a bit sloppy going over the high jump, using her feet as she crossed. This is likely due to her banging her knee on it last week and she's cautious now, but we'll have to fix that. No touching allowed! But she was retrieving eagerly.

I decided to finally add the dumbbell to the wall exercise, which until now has been only wall technique. With Laev on a long line, I sent her over the wall, directed her to the dumbbell, and then ran with her back over the wall. First time went well.

The second time, I decided to make it look like a real retrieve. I set Laev up, threw the dumbbell, sent her over the wall and then ran alongside to help her find the dumbbell if necessary.

As Laev scaled the wall, a sharp pain jabbed through my clicker hand, and then again. Without thought I began tearing at my hand, sending my clicker (wrist coil and all) off my wrist and through the air.

Laev paused, because this was an entirely new set of hand signals for her. My friend Melissa was laughing at me, wondering why I'd thrown a clicker. I stood shaking my hand, which was really hurting now, and reached for my treat bag; Laev hadn't done anything wrong. "Something stung me," I said.

Ah, well, we move on. I asked if anyone in the group had an antihistamine. My mother is highly allergic to some stings, and I have somehow made it to my present age without any real stings to test my susceptibility. No luck, though the two RNs in our group offered to perform CPR if necessary.

After a moment I sent Laev for the dumbbell. She picked it up and carried it back to me, then suddenly dropped it and pawed at her face. She'd been stung, too!

We moved well away from the retrieve area and I had her work some heeling circles around two volunteers so we could end on a good note. I also sent her for a very short retrieve, so that she didn't think it was the dumbbell which had caused the sting. She was as eager as ever; I love this dog. Still, our retrieve isn't good enough that I can afford to have her stung while training, so we were done for the night.

A club member examined the wall and found a nest of wasps had moved in. They'll be moved out before our next training session! I found my clicker a good 25 feet away; I'd thrown it hard!

I spent the next hour with an ice pack on my swelling hand. No allergic reaction, though, so that was a good thing. :)

Laev and I are alike? Don't answer that!

2008-07-29T18:12:00.001-04:00

So I am rebuilding Laev's bitework a bit. She's doing very well in many aspects -- clean hold and barks, clean fast outs, good control -- but she's working almost entirely in predatory motivation. While that's good for much of modern competition, a really good Schutzhund dog works in a balance of predation and aggression. There should be both the desire to catch the helper and the desire to fight the helper.

Not that Laev is sleeve-fixated. Oh, no, she's not just about equipment. She'll work a helper without a sleeve just as loudly and closely (but obviously without the bite). But she is still thinking of it only as a game, without bringing a level of seriousness to the game. I want her in less pick-up football mode and more Superbowl mode.

Laev can work herself up in aggression under threat, of course, but as soon as the threat ends, she's neutral again. She doesn't hold that fighting mindset. This makes her great for everyday bounceback, but I'd like to see her hold a bit of rage as she looks for the helper. It's not just a shell game, it's a shell game for a fight! So we're working on capping her aggression.

This is kind of like me. I can get worked up pretty easily, I even enjoy it, but it's really hard for me to stay angry or hold a grudge. I can't understand people who brood for months or years -- I don't even get how someone can be angry for hours. So I can kind of sympathize with Laev's attitude of, "What? I already ran him off, so what's the big deal?"

I have been told by several people that Laev and I are very alike. I am not sure this is a good thing. I mean, I really, really like Laev,but she can be a bit over the top. But then, people have said the same about me. Hmm.

Laev is now a Therapy Dog. And more.

2008-07-29T18:11:00.002-04:00

Saturday was a busy day for us....

Laev and I got up early and went tracking with the club. For as little (bad trainer!) as we've been tracking lately, she did pretty okay. She's capable of much better, but that would require someone to actually take her out and practice....

Then I popped Laev into the car, skipping bitework. It was time for the 4H Dog Project Show at the County Fair. I left Laev in the car (fan with cold pack blowing into wire crate, grated cross-ventilation, open rear with shade cloth -- she was as comfortable as anyone can be outdoors in an Indiana July) and went inside.

Gah. I am continually amazed, and not in a good way, by the solidly outdated methods still prevalent. Everywhere I looked, dogs were being dragged through heel patterns on tight choke chains, desperately sniffing at the ground in stressy displacement, panting for reasons that had nothing to do with the heat. One 4Her was dismissed for abusive handling, and it takes a lot to dismiss a 4H project. I wanted to pull Laev from the car and shout, "Stop the show! Let me show you just for a moment what a happy working dog looks like!" but of course there's no way to wedge a demo into an event, even if I weren't just a bottom-dwelling first-year leader. But good grief, we have got to drag the project into the late twentieth century, at least.... How do we justify teaching kids to use force to get what they want as we allegedly prepare them to be better adults?

I left the fair for my blood pressure, and because Laev and I had another appointment. This one, at least, was in air-conditioning; CIA was hosting a TDI therapy dog evaluation.

Shakespeare had tested before, but needed re-testing. When the supplied neutral dog turned out to be non-neutral, Shakespeare and another dog stepped in. He passed, of course. He's a very good boy.

Laev was cheerful and enthusiastic in her testing, but she kept her paws on the floor (though I think she considered hopping into the wheelchair tester's lap). I was very pleased at how she worked with the disabled volunteer; she has not seen many physically handicapped folks and I worried that she might find the dramatic change in movement and speech a bit alarming. Nope, she was a pro! Made me proud.

Right up 'til the food test. /laugh/ We were waiting right next to where the evaluator kept her sliced ham between tests, which for some reason she stored on the floor beside us. Laev was very, very good at leaving it for the hour we waited. Then when it was her turn to demonstrate a leave it, she heeled right over it in perfect form. (Oohs and aahs!) Then, on the return, she heeled perfectly over it until she was nicking it with a toenail, when she dove.

She didn't get it; I barked a quick "leave it!" and moved forward quickly. She came back into heel position, nearly giggling, and we heeled over it twice more just to prove that we could. No way were we failing our test over this! not after ignoring that tempting ham for so long! And the evaluator laughed and passed us.

It was described by onlookers as, "I was just showing you that I could get it if I wanted to." Maybe so. Little monster.

So Laev passed her TDI test and can now get her therapy certification. She and Shakespeare will be working at the literacy program which the library system has asked one of CIA's instructors to put together.

Laev and I left (leaving Shakespeare to finish helping as the neutral dog) and headed to the park, where we were doing a tracking workshop. Laev's demo track was ugly, very ugly, but I attributed that to a long, hot day ending with a track across hot, dry ground. And of course, I hadn't been tracking her much. The novice dogs learning to track for the first time seemed to have a good time, though. But what dog doesn't really like tracking? "You mean, you want me to sniff the ground? And eat the food I find there?!"

So I'm pleased that Laev can now work as a therapy dog. I'll choose her visits; there are many types of therapy work, and not all dogs enjoy all kinds. But I think the literacy program will be a good option for her.

Laev's Alignment is Chaotic Neutral.

2008-06-04T13:08:00.002-04:00

(This has little to do with actual training. Just so you know.)

I know I have geeky friends. Heck, I am /cough/ something of a geek myself, albeit we differ in our geeky ways. I am for example frankly terrible at video games, though I can talk enough of the lingo to fool most people. But my immediate circle is chock-full of hardware geeks, software geeks, gadget geeks, and gamer geeks.

This doesn't often affect my training -- although I do wish I had a place to offer my proposed Dog Training for Geeks group class, in which I have translated all our basic essential behaviors into geek language. ("Settling on a mat is so mundane. We teach your puppy to farm the mat! Camp it like an unethical PvPer!")

But the other day, I was startled during lunch when, somehow, I don't know how, they began discussing Laev -- in terms of her logical alignments. It was determined by this august group that Laev was Chaotic Neutral.

A cheat sheet: Chaotic Neutral is called the "Anarchist" or "Free Spirit" alignment. A character of this alignment is an individualist who follows his or her own heart, shirks rules and traditions. They typically act out of self-interest, but do not enjoy seeing others suffer. Many adventurers are of this alignment. (Wikipedia)

Laev is perfectly willing to follow known rules so long as they get her what she wants -- but the instant the system breaks down, she's out of there, forget it. She has a low tolerance for rules for rules' sake. Neither "good" nor "evil", she's just about what she wants, no altruism or Lassie tendencies. She's thrilled to play my games, of course! but it's because they're her games as well, and even my dumbest games result in something desirable for her.

So, yep, it's official. Laev's rolled. I am terrified of receiving her stat sheet.

(This got me thinking, and now I suspect Shakespeare is Lawful Neutral or possibly Lawful Good. Definitely Lawful, though. Inky.... Inky would be true Neutral, mostly because she cannot keep track of what the rules are. /grin/)

EDIT:
A friend just sent me this information about a mecha called "Laevatein" (also named for the Norse mythological weapon) from the manga/anime "Full Metal Panic!":

"The Laevatein is almost entirely designed for direct combat capabilities. Featuring a high-output powerplant and an enhanced musculature, it has exceptional strength and mobility."

Oh yeah. They've met her. :-)

General Update & UDC Nationals

2008-05-27T20:33:00.001-04:00

As I'm about a month behind, here's a quick update on the life and training of Laev....

UDC Nationals went well this year, despite my being distracted by show secretarial duties. Laev passed her Working Aptitude Evaluation (a DPCA test), thereby earning her UDC Versatility Certificate and some compliments. A couple of days later she passed her UDC Adult Temperament Test, though she was merely "satisfactory" instead of "pronounced" (a dual product of both higher temperatures and her distracted handler's failure to give her permission to tell off the threatening bad guy when he appeared, forcing her to hesitate and then finally act on her own).

We went in one conformation class, where Laev earned second place and a VG rating. I was pleasantly surprised; I never expected to place above anybody. I just like getting the written critique of my dog.

The next day was the endurance test, the AD. Laev could have done this in her sleep; 12.4 miles of running alongside a bike. The rain did not come as scheduled, so we actually had very nice cool weather for the run. (I had a rain jacket just in case.) Laev refused water at every pause and didn't even pant until mile 10 or 11; she stopped panting and refused water again when we pulled in for the final check. Then she threw a minor play fit when we didn't start running again. Silly dog.

I met Laev's littermate Lexa, who is lovely and much, much smaller than Laev! Lexa is about 45 pounds, while Laev is about 65 with a hint of rib and muscle like Arnold Strong. Lexa was competing in the IPO trial, and I am so frustrated that I couldn't stay and watch her.

Then we took a week off because I was both exhausted and ill, and we went back to training last night. Laev was very good up until she was a total brat. We were working on retrieves until, mid-jump, she apparently decided to explore and took off, jumping a pasture fence ("like a gazelle," my impressed but annoyed friends noted) and doing a big circle. She came back promptly, but I was quite irate.

Laev doesn't think she's running away, one friend suggested. She knows she'll be back in three seconds, so it doesn't seem that far to her. She's just doing a quick loop. I, on the other hand, see my dog a quarter mile away, and leaving mid-exercise. Not good. We'll be making some changes.

In better news, her outs seem to be holding up nicely. So if I can just convince her that if she sticks with me we'll have more fun than the woods offers, we'll be fine. Grr.

Laev Outs!

2008-04-29T16:09:00.000-04:00

It was awesome. I'd always meant to videotape when I first outed Laev off a live helper, because I was pretty certain it would be a good example of how solid foundations and early installation of "thinking during arousal" would pay off in the long run, but I hadn't brought a camera when I decided to do it. But trust me, it was pretty.

Laev has been doing pretty well in her protection work. She has nice obedience for the bite (though her fronts should be straighter), she is clean in the blind, she doesn't cheat on the blind search. I need to be working on calling out or heeling out of the blind from a hold and bark -- tough, as she learned the hold and bark in exchange for a bite -- and on outs.

Laev has had lovely outs off a toy with me since baby puppyhood. Right from the very beginning, I trained her to know that "out" meant the faster you let go, the faster we get to restart the game. There was no conflict at all in it. (Because she'll be competing in protection sports, I also specifically trained that even if I stop playing, she is not to let go unless I verbally cue, a step unnecessary for most pets.)

But, no matter how wild Laev and I play, she'll never hit the same level of arousal with me as she will with a real helper. Laev and I are a team. The decoy, even though he's not a hated enemy, is an opponent. It's a game, yes, but it's a game Laev takes very seriously. She is playing with me; she is playing and fighting with the decoy. So that means there's a bunch of adrenalin and a cocktail of other goodies rushing through her brain while she's on that sleeve, all working together to make it as hard as possible for her to do a nice, clean, fast out.

So I've held off on even attempting an out off a live helper. Let's get everything else where it needs to be, and then I can worry about that. In the meantime, I can use winning the sleeve to reinforce all kinds of behaviors. I'll add the out later. But then, I realized, now that Laev is three, I should probably get around to it. ;-)

So last Monday suddenly I decided to try it, and we set up for success. I started Laev with a nice long blind search, so she had a chance to blow some steam and wasn't in her first flush of bitework thrills. She performed a nice clean hold and bark and was rewarded with a bite. The helper fought her, came out, and slipped the sleeve as instructed. I called Laev to bring me the sleeve and we played tug.

I paused in playing. "Out." Laev backed out immediately, and I cued to re-bite. Quick review of game. Yes, Mom, I get it. Same game with the toy and the sleeve. No brainer.

So, while playing, I passed the sleeve to the helper. Play, tug, tug. He paused. "Out," I cued. Laev never hesitated. This was the same picture she'd always seen, toy in her mouth and the human still, only this toy was bigger and the human wasn't me. Still, no problem.

Rebite. The helper played some more and then slipped his arm into the sleeve. Ah, better play! Laev got a bit excited, but when I cued, "Out," she came right off. Click, rebite.

Oh, right, I get it! Out for bite! Awesome!

Slip sleeve, out, tease, drag Laev away. Repeat blind search. Slip sleeve, helper plays and outs, Laev rebites on cue, he puts sleeve on, fights, outs. She was good for every repetition except where the sleeve was high and she had her feet on him; she wasn't quite sure she could do it from there and she responded slowly, with a bit of mouthing. But there was no click and we just waited a few seconds before cuing a bite again, and her next repetition was back to flawless.

So one mistake of perhaps 15 or so trials. I was happy with that.

Now, can she do it without running off that first thrill of coming on the field? Not yet. But this is a nice start.

Laev Goes To 4-H

2008-04-03T23:51:00.001-04:00

Somehow I became a 4-H leader this year. I know, I didn't really need another project; already my family and friends are cautioning me against burnout and nervous collapse. (I tend to... overbook myself. A bit.) But there was no one to do it locally, and what I heard about alternate programs was making me very uncomfortable, and.... Okay, I'll just schedule the meetings opposite another trainer's puppy class so I'm not canceling anything, and it's a social service, right?

We scheduled our first meeting for last night. I expected as many as three kids (low enrollment due to lack of leader and therefore no publicity), but only one showed up. No problem, we're going ahead!

This boy L. is in his first year of the Dog Project, with a dog they adopted from the shelter just yesterday. Wow. I had asked that the first meeting be dog-less, and we started right off by talking about clicker training. I gave him a clicker and wrist coil, and Alena (my sister and co-leader) gave him a TAGulator. We talked about the clicker marking behaviors for animals who don't speak English, and then I demonstrated nose targeting with Laev enthusiastically touching her nose to my fingers.

Young L. got to practice first with a human dog while Laev settled on her mat with a bully stick. Within just a few clicks he had great timing with our hand-puppet-dog (and earned himself a TAG). Then he watched while Alena and I demonstrated teaching doggie zen, with our hand-puppet-dog; I asked him to identify what Alena was clicking. He started to answer and then hesitated. We repeated the demo and asked him to identify it again. This time he hesitantly guessed, and we confirmed that yes, she was clicking as my hand moved backward.

How early do we start to fear being wrong?

So he got to practice targeting with Laev. She hasn't worked much with other people and usually has little tolerance for late clicks, missed clicks, etc. -- she'll just walk away if she doesn't feel the trainer's up to par -- but his practice had served him well and she gave him some great targets. I think he enjoyed himself.

Laev went back on her mat and we played the Training Game to demonstrate shaping. First he and Alena came up with a behavior for me (hands in large trash barrel) and Alena clicked me through it. Tough!! I got to the trash can immediately, but I think I tried every behavior EXCEPT sticking my arms in it. I even put my head inside and offered to sit in it! Wow. But it was really interesting to me to see all the ways that a savvy training subject and a savvy trainer could communicate; I would subtly change the angle of my fingers or their exact position on the rim to ask questions. Definitely not a place I could afford to worry about being wrong!

Then L. clicked Alena into going to a bag, taking out a pompom and waving it. By that time he was laughing and having a great time. Positive training is reinforcing!

I also demonstrated a first-year obedience routine with Laev, so he'd know what we'll be working toward. I'm a bit worried, because I hear that the other clubs started their meetings in January or February, and this is a novice working with a brand new dog, but on the other hand I have faith in the technology. We have just over 3 months of weekly meetings to get ready for county fair, but we're going to do it, because we click butt!

(Oh, man, did I just say that?)

Laev also went to second grade last week; a student had written to me as I have the job he'd like to have when he grows up. So we demonstrated shaping (Laev putting two paws on a chair away from me) and played the Training Game with a couple of students. Laev didn't shape so well for the students there, but they were a bit stingy with their clicks. It was very clear that she'd rather be working for me; with every click, she'd turn away from the clicker to me and give me The Look. I almost had to instruct her to eat her treat. Perfectly safe, but mildly irritated and wanting to just get on with it, "clearer clicks, please!" Not at all like Shakespeare, who I really think takes some perverse delight in teaching people how to use the clicker properly. (I swear he deliberately responds dramatically to a late click just to get the R+ of seeing people groan, laugh and slap themselves as well as his treat.)

So that was Laev's social calendar. I hope 4-H progresses well!

Back In The Day

2008-04-01T10:55:00.002-04:00

A friend in my Schutzhund club sent this video link, of a Schutzhund club in 1936. I think it's a neat clip, because it shows a lot of things....

The obedience is less stylized here, but look at what's expected of the dogs -- they work comfortably in large groups, alongside other dogs at close quarters, and they settle comfortably with their humans at a beer garden. These are not dangerous trigger-happy time bombs, they're good pets.

(I don't mean to imply that today's Schutzhund dogs are necessarily time bombs! I expect my dogs to walk nicely in public and lie down under outdoor cafe tables as well. But I thought that aspect was very obvious in the film clips.)

Also, there are a lot of exercises seen here which have disappeared from the current sport. Remember that Schutzhund was originally a breeding suitability test (and still is, in some parts of the world) and so the dogs' hips and athletic abilities were really tested. We'd have a lot less hip dysplasia if all dogs were required to train like this before being bred! Also, a few of the protection exercises are still present in other sports but are gone from Schutzhund, such as the attack under gunfire (something critical for a police dog).

And it's fun to see what the breeds looked like seventy years ago.... Some have really changed.

Anyway, here's the clip!

Laev Update

2008-03-31T15:40:00.001-04:00

Wow. I was amazed at the number of people at ClickerExpo who asked about Laev! I even got TAGged for her blog! You guys are great. :-)

Super-brief update, because I've been asked: Yes, Laev seems much improved. She went back to regular training a week ago and did just great. I was also super-proud that even in her over-the-top excitement at FINALLY getting to go back to work, she was perfectly clean in her positively-trained hold and barks.

Two days later, she wasn't as clean on a different helper -- she brushed the sleeve as she went by, just asking a question -- and I'll have to do some work on that. No cheating.

But overall, it seems she feels much better physically, and that's what's most important.

"She Did It, Right?!"

2008-03-17T19:51:00.001-04:00

I ran into a training friend after Laev's TD certification track.

"How'd Laev do?" she asked brightly.

"Eh," I responded.

"She did it, right? She passed?"

"Eeeh."

"How'd she do?"

I was honest. "It was the worst track I've ever seen from her."

My friend nodded. "Right. But that was still good enough, right?"

"No. She failed the track."

"What?! How can that be? Laev?" She stared at me. "I would have cried."

Sometimes there are disadvantages to having people know that we're supposed to have a clue how to go about this.

I wonder sometimes why I blog about Laev's training. I don't blog about anything else, and I don't really want to look like I'm setting myself up as some sort of internet training goddess. Well, no danger of that -- I record our failures as well as our successes, and it should be pretty obvious that we aren't, um, perfect. /laugh/

It does add a certain amount of pressure, the blog. Once, right before a big trial, I got email about Laev's efforts from across the world. I whined to my sister the night before the trial, "What if it goes bad? I'd have to write and tell Norway that we failed!"

There is a certain advantage to anonymity.

On the other hand, I know my clients often appreciate hearing that my dogs are real dogs, too, that they do make mistakes and I have to train through difficulties. I have been told by others that they find Laev's blog to be encouraging and helpful to their own training, and that's hugely gratifying.

In addition, it's useful to me, because it's often as I'm mentally reviewing (I write all my blog posts in my head before I ever type them) that I recall some detail which can make the difference in our next session. That's good. And it is good to get feedback from others, of course.

So I'm blogging, and training, and of course enjoying my dog. It's what it's all about. :-)

Fresh Photos!

2008-03-17T17:39:00.008-04:00

These were taken at the March 1 AKC obedience trial, hosted by GLKC. This is where Laev finished her CD and RN (and Shakespeare finished his RA, too, but this isn't his blog -- sorry, buddy!).

I ordered some professional photos because I have only one picture of Laev's heeling, taken through the rain at a distance.

She's not even in proper position in that photo, and it's hard to see just how beautiful she is. (Do I sound a bit biased?) So here are the new ones!

The indoor lighting was difficult for good photos, so the final images didn't color correct well. Paw Prints Pet Photography was nice enough to then include other color options for me, and I'm posting the sepia here.

Know what I love most about this picture? There are zero feet touching the ground -- hers or mine. This is what life with Laev is like all the time! (Hmm. Nice convergence in dog and handler; we should both get good conformation ratings for clean movement. ;-) )

This was snapped just as we changed directions in the figure eight. I love that Laev and I are in perfect step, crossing over together.

If I recall correctly, this was during a downward shift in pace, which is why I'm dropping my weight a bit and making that odd step. Laev's tail doesn't ever stop wagging while we're working, I don't think.

A shot from the Rally class, though there are no signs visible. I remember the ring and spectator, but I don't remember which exercise this was; with my weight shifting like that, we might be coming to a halt. I do love that Laev and I are still in perfect step.

So, that's our photographic update. Hope you enjoyed it. I'm going to try to get some good action shots of her protection work as soon as she's safely back to that game.

Tracking Test -- epilogue, post-datum

2008-03-15T14:16:00.001-04:00

My "Tracking Test -- Epilogue" post looked kind of doom and gloom, perhaps, and I had left out the most important part of the day.

Laev is happy!

Yes, she was uncertain on her track. But she is bright-eyed, eager to engage with me, and she is now happily playing with a puzzle toy. THAT is what matters a heck of a lot more than certifying or not.

And I do think she can do a TD track, or I wouldn't have wasted someone else's time in asking a judge to come watch us. But even though we failed, the fact that Laev is feeling good today and was eager to go out this morning means that it's still a good day.

:-)

Tracking Test -- epilogue

2008-03-15T13:48:00.000-04:00

I was nervous at the tracking certification this morning. I hadn't been, comparatively speaking, but then the judge mentioned that he'd visited my business website the night before, and I started tensing.

See, I had carefully sent him email from my personal address, deleted all signature references to what I did for a living, etc. (I think he found out when he heard the greeting on my phone.) Not only is it kind of arrogant in my mind to go in advertising that I'm a professional trainer, I think it puts unfair pressure on both judge and competitor. After all, pros don't ever make mistakes, right? ;-)

Well, this pro was a nervous twit. We talked about the differences between Schutzhund and AKC tracking, about the fact that Laev hadn't tracked much in a harness before (just yesterday), and a few other things that I don't really recall because my brain was already starting to check out. Drat, he knows that I'm supposed to know what I'm doing. And I know some AKC tracking people completely disdain Schutzhund tracking and some Schutzhund people disdain AKC tracking, and now I'm representing Schutzhund tracking to this guy, so we'd better be good....

I'd brought a judge's gift. I'd asked on a list what was appropriate and received answers from all over and of all types. "Don't bring any gift at all! It's offensive. Judges do this as part of their judging and they don't expect anything for it." Or, "A judge has to take time out of his schedule for you, and you should take something pretty nice -- at least a $25 gift card to a nice restaurant." Oookay; apparently there are different expectations in different parts of the country.

No one local had answered, though. So I'd split the difference and brought a couple of big packages of treats which I thought were useful for tracking training. While we were talking, I thought about the gift bag, but then it seemed wrong to offer it before the track, almost a bribe. Better to save it.

Finally the track was sufficiently aged and I could get my dog. We heeled to the start flag as usual and then I cued Laev to track. She passed over the first article as I'd expected and started.

About ten feet into the track, I knew I didn't have a tracking dog. Whether it was my stress of the past two weeks (a really dizzying mix of highs and lows), my twitchiness of the morning, the late chiropractic of the night before, or just the fact that it was a stranger's track, I knew right from the start that she wasn't comfortable on the track. She usually hits the line like a ton of bricks, and yesterday in the harness she was right back to that, but today she was hesitant, uncommitted. She zigged a lot on that first leg, really ugly, and she never ever once looked "right" on the track.

She found the first corner, did a bit better, and then missed the second corner and couldn't find it again. Our judge kindly informed me after a bit that we were past the third leg and had failed, but he gave us the visual line so we could work through the rest.

He said that she'd looked up the correct leg and then, seeing mounds of dirt, decided the track must not be there; I don't think that was the case. Laev may well have looked up the right leg and then failed to follow it, but not because of dirt -- I'll lay tracks through almost anything. (We were tracking through mole tunnels earlier this week.) I suspect she was still uncertain about the stranger's scent, or me, or whatever.

Laev was flustered by now and she dove for a molehill as an attractive diversion. I pulled her off and set her back on the track. (No hesitation by the molehills earlier this week, so that's an indication of how "off" we were.) She was clearly hesitant on the rest of the track, even with me close behind her and me now knowing exactly where we were going, so it wasn't simply a need for help. Even when we found the glove, she kind of just crept up to it and then lay down to indicate, glancing at me for confirmation. Poor confused dog.

I felt really bad for the judge, too -- I would never have chosen to show him such a tracking picture! And my left eye had started streaming from the wind, like it always does, but probably appearing that I'm crying as I'm gibbering about how she just didn't look right....

He tried to help me, he did. He explained that I had followed her when she lost the track instead of standing firm. (Yep, I had -- it was because she had never looked "right" so I had a harder time telling when she was wrong.) He referred me to a popular trainer not far from me to "help me with the transition" from Schutzhund to AKC. That was a very nice way of saying that it didn't look like we had a clue what we were doing out there. :-) Also, I took this to mean that he thought we were one of "those" Schutzhund folk, those who train tracking with a lot of compulsion, who micro-manage the dogs on the tracks and never allow the dogs to learn to make decisions.... I suspect this because he talked about letting Laev get off and then put herself back on. I do that anyway, but of course today he had *no* way of seeing that.

Anyway, he talked slightly down to us, but I couldn't blame him in the least. He was trying his best to be helpful and encouraging to what certainly appeared to be a blathering young inexperienced fool who hadn't really ever let her dog track on its own before. And I was definitely blathering -- I even said, "But she did a great track yesterday!" /rolls eyes/ But he was very nice about it, and he did all he could for us under the circumstances.

I did choke up at the end, as I put Laev away and mentioned that earlier in the week I'd thought she might be retired permanently -- that was too scary then and it's still hard to even say. That had nothing to do with failing the track, though; Laev's health and happiness is worth a lot more than any silly set of letters. But that probably confirmed whatever the poor man was thinking about emotional crazy woman Schutzhund trackers. /sigh/

I gave him the gift bag of treats, which seemed to vex him a bit; apparently I should have been at one end of the continuum or the other to avoid offense. Drat. I really need to find someone local who can give me the lowdown on local customs. I escaped with my dog.

So we'll do some more work with stranger-laid tracks, get me more settled and less stressed, and then try again. I feel certain Laev can do a TD track, but I'd obviously cheated on her preparation for this particular day -- we've never tried a strange track with me reeking stress pheromones just hours after adjustment. Sheesh. And I have never, ever seen her look as questioning and uncertain on a track as she did today.

So we'll work and come back to try again. I'd definitely use this judge again and would recommend him -- he was friendly, helpful, and Laev liked him enough to give him a friendly nose poke. (I'm using to reporting in for a temperament assessment before starting the track, so I took Laev up to him. He was good enough to not respond to her and distract her before we started, which I appreciated.) So we'll contact him in the future to make up for today -- if he won't suddenly have a schedule too full to handle another go with the teary blathering novice who hands out bags of treats. ;-)

Chiropractic Update

2008-03-15T01:58:00.001-04:00

I did take Laev to a highly-recommended veterinary chiropractor tonight. She'd been getting worse -- yelping and snapping if bumped by another dog, suddenly less pulling on the tracking line (she's ALWAYS tried to drag me down track) and weaving on the track, some faint hackling over hips.... I had hips, elbows and lumbar x-rayed and all looked fine (went ahead and submitted to OFA, as long as we were doing it), so next step was the chiropractor. It was very interesting and I think well worthwhile.

He found a whole laundry list of things wrong with Laev -- pelvis out of whack, something more with the left hip in particular, the right shoulder wonky to compensate for the left hip, the lower neck.... "Wonky" is of course not the medical term, but in short, Laev was messed up. He suspects the lack of pulling on the leash would be due to the pelvis/hip and the yelping when bumped due to the neck.

He spent a while poking, pushing and snapping Laev into place, and there was a quite loud pop when he adjusted her left hip. She only really shifted away once; what really amazed me was how cool she was
with all of this. I'd given her my palm to position her and keep her steady (she's trained to chin rest in it), but she relaxed very obviously and really sank into my hand.

"Ah!" he said. "A Doberman I can do a tail adjustment on!"

Afterward, he did some acupuncture and injected a tiny bit of B12 into each needle, which is something my regular vet had mentioned. We got on the list for a future appointment; he's in big demand and travels
the state.

I feel a tiny bit validated -- I'm guessing the hackling I observed was due to the sore hip and pelvis, for example, so I wasn't totally off in my assessment. I'm just really, really hoping now that this wasn't just incidental or contributing and there's still another major problem elsewhere.

Our club is really safety-minded, and our training director very particular about the catching of the dogs, but of course a small thing can happen and then just build as the dog keeps going, and more can be pushed out of alignment as the dog compensates for the sore area. Laev will be taking another week off to let the adjustments really settle, and she'll definitely be getting an agitation harness for work instead of the padded leather collar I have been using.

Regarding tomorrow's tracking.... Laev tracked much better this afternoon on a harness for the first time -- no neck pressure! -- and so I'm hoping that we do well tomorrow, despite the fact that we haven't really prepped for AKC style and that I've been a total nervous wreck about her! At least I know she did well today and I know that tonight's chiropractic was beneficial, so that will help my end of the leash to be calm. :-)

Tracking Test -- prologue

2008-03-14T04:14:00.001-04:00

On Saturday, Laev and I will attempt to certify to enter an AKC tracking test.

We are utterly unprepared for this.

1) AKC tracking tests require that the dog track in a harness. Laev has worn a harness only a few times in her life since being just weeks old, and always for bitework, not tracking. I borrowed back an old harness tonight and Laev will track just once in it on Friday before testing on Saturday.

2) We have also never tracked anyone who was not me, as I've always laid my own training tracks. Saturday will be the first time that Laev will track a stranger.

3) I have also not adequately prepared Laev to work at the required distance, as I have been fairly close behind her during her training thus far and I have to maintain a distance of at least 20' on Saturday.

So why in the heck are we doing this to ourselves, anyway?

Frankly, I think it's because I'm scared. Really scared. Laev's mystery ailment has not improved; she has lost weight and she will yelp and snap when jostled by another dog. She is also definitely not pulling as hard on the tracking line (we track on a collar) or on the leash (she has a lovely heel, but I've never bothered to really teach loose leash walking). Bloodwork and hip, elbow, back x-rays all look just great; I suspect a neck injury.

I am terrified of what it will mean if that is confirmed. If she is injured, and if it's something that cannot be fixed or will reappear with risk to her, that means her career is over. And that would be devastating -- not because we wouldn't be able to compete for titles, no! but because training and specifically training in bitework is Laev's most favorite activity and I can't imagine not allowing her to do it.

Bitework is a full body, full contact sport. It requires an athletic dog in excellent condition. I have a good club with a training director who's very concerned about the safety of the dogs; we don't take unnecessary risks. But like any sport, there's always the possibility of landing just slightly wrong and suffering injury. There was never a moment when I knew Laev had just suffered lasting damage, but dogs (and particularly Laev) are tough; they'll keep going even if something hurts, and what might have been a minor injury can be made major.

And Laev, not do bitework?! Already we're suffering because I haven't let her train for nearly two weeks, worrying about her mystery ailment. She's going a bit stir-crazy and I picked up tracking because I thought it would be something suitably enjoyable and mental for her. I mean, obedience has jumps and heeling, agility is even worse, what else could we do but scent work? But she's been sloppy on the track, weaving out of the footprints, and I wonder now if it's caused by some pain from the line; we'll see if it changes when I put her in the harness. If she doesn't light up looking for a helper when I put the harness on, that is.

I'd been thinking for several months I should work toward her AKC TD, and when we had to take a break from everything else, it seemed like a good time to try that. And now that I'm absolutely terrified that I might learn she won't be able to do anything else again, we're going to go out and try this, just so we're not sitting at home and fretting. I'll take the certifying judge a nice gift for his time; even if we do a really ugly job because my dog's unprepared and her handler's a nervous wreck, we'll be outside enjoying each other's company, and what could be wrong with that?

We have an appointment late Friday evening with a veterinary chiropractor. I don't know what he'll find, or if he'll tell me there's nothing and I'm back at the start with no clue as to what's wrong with my dog....

I am just so scared that this is something big, really big, and this tracking test is my denial. See, I am out there training my dog, we are working together, everything's fine. Really.

Maintaining Laev.

2008-03-10T22:21:00.001-04:00

So Laev's condition, whatever this mystery ailment is, is possibly worse. She doesn't seem quite as low energy on the B12, but she is much more protective of her personal space with the other dogs.

The other night I opened the door to let Laev out and Shakespeare in. They collided lightly. Laev screamed and went nuts, first snarking at Shakespeare but quickly allowing her survival instinct to kick in. Then she turned at me and freaked, definitely not wanting to bite me either but wanting to bite *something*. I quickly took her outside and closed the door, preventing a possible dogfight, and she was completely frantic for a few minutes. I stroked her and then let her go to do her thing.

That makes the third time I've seen a dog encounter make Laev yelp and snark, and the first time I actually saw what happened. The first two times were with Inky, who is a big klutzy lug and who very probably bumped Laev; both times Laev went more reactive than I've ever seen before and bit, both times needing physically separated. I didn't see the bump either time, but I did mention to the vet during her exam that she was more sensitive about space than usual. These dogs have been passing in the doorways for years, and all three of these incidents have been in the last two weeks. This looks completely different from the "you're in my space!" reaction she'll give a rude dog with an inattentive handler.

I'm also seeing occasional hackling over her lower spine, very small but I think it's there. That's not where she hackles when she's hearing something odd at night, which is at her withers and croup.

She's getting x-rays tomorrow of hips and lumbar region; I think I'll go ahead and have them shoot images of her elbows, too, so we can just get her OFA'd at the same time. I don't want to knock her out again if I want them later. Then, Friday, we have an appointment with a veterinary chiropractor.

My sister thinks Laev's lost weight, and I think I agree. This could be a sign of either something wrong internally or, I'm told, chronic pain. Yeek.

Anyway, all this means I'm not taking Laev to Schutzhund training, because I don't want to hurt her or risk doing anything permanent. But Laev doesn't like rest. She's been getting increasingly needy and twitchy, having no way to burn her physical and mental energy.

"You have to do something with the puppy," Jon said. "'My mommy is gone, my sun has burned out and my life is over.'"

Well, I figured, she can track safely enough, I'd guess. And I want to get her AKC TD anyway. So tonight I laid a ~300 pace track with 3 articles and a half dozen turns. While it aged, Laev and I played at training; I'd like to capture and shape an open mouth behavior. It will be fun for conformation class and a great trick for demonstrating the uses of clicker training.

Then we went into the dusk and tracked. Laev missed the second article (so did I) but tracked pretty reliably over the lots and lots of molehills. She was sloppy at corners, as much as several feet off, but enthusiastically got back on track. Nailed the third article even though I was the furthest behind her I've ever been (I'd dropped back in a long straightaway and for final corner).

Then we went back inside for more hard thinking and easy physical stuff. After a couple hours of training, she had reached a point where she could lie beside me and chew a knuckle bone.

While I'm thrilled with her work ethic and I don't mind having to find new challenges for her, I hope we can find the physical problem soon. I want my dog back!

Laev's Bloodwork Results

2008-03-01T23:47:00.001-05:00

(Because some asked....)

Laev's bloodwork came back about perfect. While this is great from a health standpoint, it's frustrating because it doesn't help us identify what the mystery ailment that's sapping energy might really be. Her thyroid, enzymes, cholesterol, everything is just textbook normal.

The only thing that's off is a very slightly elevated white blood cell count. We don't think it's a low-grade pyo, or UTI, or other thing; it might be, if we had to guess, a parasite infection or an allergic response. As she's showing no other allergy symptoms, I voted to order a "parasite purge" on the off chance she got an icky case of worms somehow.

In the meantime, B12 seems to help her with her energy and general outlook, and the vet relieved my concern that it would mask further symptoms. So I'll try to maintain that as needed and of course I'll keep watching for anything more that could help us help her.

Thanks for your concern!

Three runs, three legs, three titles, one day.

2008-03-01T23:37:00.001-05:00

We had an AKC trial today. We average 1 AKC trial per year, roughly; it's just not high on my priority list as entry fees keep going up, AKC dumbed down the Rally I enjoyed, and the culture can feel clique-ish and less supportive. (Of course there are exceptionally nice people participating in AKC, too!) But I wanted to finish the titles we'd started.

So three entries, today. Shakespeare finished his RA with a very distracted 95 points (of 100). Silly dog; Rally is his favorite and I'm not sure why he was spacing today. He got a fourth place.

Laev finished her RN despite her stupid handler. Laev apparently read the sign correctly and lay down ("it says down, Mom, trust me!") but I gave her the eyeball and she changed to a sit. Unfortunately, the Doberman is always right, and we finished her title with an unimpressive 86 points. Still counts, though!

And then we waited for Novice obedience, where Laev could finish her CD. A client couple appeared at the trial to learn more about sports and to watch us. (No pressure.) I was a bit worried about Laev, as she still has the mystery ailment that saps energy and focus; I was afraid she'd distract or lie down on the sit-stay, as she had done a few times in practice. But she came through beautifully, giving me enthusiastic and energetic heeling, a picture-perfect stand for exam, and a happy recall that got ticked for one point, but I have no idea why.

Her heeling was a bit too enthusiastic, actually. :-) While we didn't have any "vertical heeling," she wrapped herself about my left leg and lost points for crabbing and crooked sits. I can't blame her at all; I never really focused on straight sits originally, preferring the enthusiasm of her forward movement, and it's less of a problem when we're moving briskly. I was slower today, though, in an indoor ring and just tired myself, and so she compensated by bending herself into a pretzel. As that is where we lost all our other points, I might have to go back and actually make myself train a straight heel.

Still, clicker training produced a very reliable dog, reliably and consistently making the same mistake I'd originally trained. /laugh/

I will compliment Laev on this, though; I was going through a collection of photos to order some professional shots of our run, and every single picture shows rapt attention. The only time she's not looking intently up at me is when I'm leaving her in the sit for the recall. Even other observers commented on it; she's darn focused. Good girl.

She twitched once during the group stays but held her position. And that was her third leg and her AKC CD. Time to move on to new things!

A Vending Machine for Crows

2008-02-29T23:43:00.000-05:00

I quote from http://www.boingboing.net/2008/02/29/ted-2008-crow-vendin.html

Technology hacker Joshua Klein built a vending machine that teaches crows to deposit coins they find into a special vending machine that dispenses peanuts. He has been studying crows for over ten years and has learned that they are very intelligent. Their brain/body weight ratios are similar to chimpanzees. He's showing a video of how a crow learned to use a tool to pull an object out of of a tube. It's impressive.

Crows are smart and adaptable. For example, they drop nuts on streets so cars run over them, then wait for the traffic signal to change so they can pick up the food. Other crows who see this happen quickly learn how to do this for themselves.

His machine uses Skinnerian training. He put coins and peanuts around the machine. The crows eat the peanut on the feeder tray. Then Joshua took away the nuts and left coins in the feeder tray. It pisses off the crows. They sweep the coins around with their beaks, looking for food. When a coin accidentally drops into the slot, it dispenses a peanut. Next, Joshua took away the coins. The crows learned to find coins elsewhere and deposit them.

So now he wants to train crows for search and rescue, picking up trash, and other mutually beneficial tasks.

I think this is a brilliant way of profiting from clever wildlife. :-) We need to make sure we don't favor crows over other, more sensitive species, but imagine the possibilities of this -- automated corvid litter collection? Crow-assisted smoking bans? Ravens thieving sensitive documents from political offices? (Oh, wait, that's been done already!)

"Epic fail!" = Two New Legs :-)

2008-02-25T14:10:00.001-05:00

Yesterday we attended a CDSP trial. Laev has been battling some sort of mystery ailment, which has been steadily sapping energy; we're waiting for bloodwork tests back. But in the meantime, we were already signed up for the trial and she showed no signs of anything communicable, so we went. If she were miserable, I'd pull her.

Laev was happy to be working with me! She was wagging, she did her behaviors energetically and happily, and by the second run of the day, she'd started doing her little grumbling bark as she finished, which usually means, "Hurry up! I hate this standing still bit!" As we were warming up, she even reverted to her "vertical heeling," which is basically a step-step-step-leap-step-step-leap-step-step-step-leap. I was thrilled. Who cares if it's sloppy, who cares if it's out of position, my dog is feeling better and happy to be with me!!

But we did have to go into the ring and compete. Laev was a bit distracted in the beginning, heeling wide and checking out the environment, but then about halfway through the pattern she realized what we were doing and snapped to work. (In CDSP I could have used a bit of praise to encourage her back to place, but I don't feel very comfortable with that -- first, the praise is really a second command, and that's kind of cheating :) and second, I don't want to get in the habit of helping her out in the ring.)

Handler error on the broad jump, so we lost a few points. (I stood in wrong spot.) Full points on drop on recall. The retrieves were a bit funny; Laev came in and sat a little far out (she never quite believes she can fit the dumbbell between us) and then after a second of hesitation, scooted in to a close front.

Time for the go out. We've barely trained this, she wasn't feeling well the last couple of weeks to work on it, and I certainly haven't generalized it to new locations; she's done it only in our own space and then once at another spot. That's it. So this was an exercise in faith. I marked the send with my hand and cued, "Go!"

Laev ran out and then slowed uncertainly. Go where, again? She scanned the ring, trotting, and then headed for the high jump. She jumped it and glanced back. "Sit," I cued, and she did.

Well, I was sure that was an NQ. "Epic fail!" I told her cheerily. "Bad dog!"

Laev wagged her tail proudly. She thinks "bad dog!" is a private joke we made up.

So no further reinforcement for that one; I leashed her and took her out, thanking the judge. But the judge thought it wasn't an NQ, and she called the rep to consult. After a few minutes, they determined that Laev had earned her first Open leg.

So, that was nice. We celebrated with some hot dog bits. (I finally found a brand I don't find too abhorrent to use!)

Second run, Laev did much better, even more enthusiasm. I was proud of how she caught herself, about to go around the jump after retrieving a bounced dumbbell, and corrected her course.

Time for the go out. "Go!' Laev ran right out, veered to her spot behind the high jump and turned to face me. "Sit," I cued -- what else? She was quite pleased with herself. Have I mentioned that Laev is a one-rep learner? That bit of silly talk before was all she needed to cement that spot in her mind.

"You're going to be paying for that for the next four years," my friend Melissa said knowingly.

Ah, Laev.... Darn these smart clicker dogs.

Predatory Overdrive as training setup

2008-02-22T12:02:00.002-05:00

So a couple of weeks ago, my innovative training director came up with something to help us out.

Laev was being very distracted by a corner of the training barn where she just KNEW she should check for mice and cats. So we went over there, and another club member reached under the wall with a glove and faked small, darting prey movement. At the same time, the helper behind us cracked his whip to stimulate her further.

It was roughly like putting me between chocolate-covered almonds and fudge. Laev's brain ramped up to threshold and teetered on the edge.

I cued Laev to sit. She was hectic, but finally she tore her eyes to meet mine in a hope that I'd release her to SOMETHING. I clicked and sent her to the helper for a bite.

Repeated attempts produced a slightly faster sit, though I had to help her with a physical cue (lightly touch the left hip, stabilizing her at heel instead of letting her spin out like a banshee). I am very hopeful that this technique will work well for us in the future. I can't spend much time on it now, though, because Laev's prey-monster mindset is leading her to thrash on the slipped sleeve -- ugly -- and is uglifying our outs. So we have to back off the prey stimulation for a bit, balance it with aggression, 'til that's fixed.

And oh, remember how we said it was all Fabio's fault? (That's the sire who is said to be an excellent working dog but for his abnormally high attraction to small furries.) Well, that's not strictly true. I spoke with Laev's breeder, who said that her dam is also the most likely to go after rabbits, squirrels, etc. above all else. So, my club concluded, Laev is line-bred on critter obsession, which is why they call her "the worst I've ever seen."

But hey, at least I know it's not just me. :-) And we're making progress!

BH -- Passed

2007-11-24T22:48:00.001-05:00

We did it.

As I told a club member afterward, "She didn't show what I know she's capable of, but she didn't humiliate me either, and that's all I was after today."

But first, this morning.... I let Laev and Shakespeare out to air while I finished getting ready and then packed the car. Then I called and loaded Shakespeare, but Laev didn't come to the Jeep.... I wandered after her and found her sniffing intently, circling as she does when she's found prey scent. "Laev!" No response. "Laev!" She went the other way.

Oh, great. Wonderful start to our obedience day. And she never did come, and I finally (needed to get going) got in the car and started down the drive. She caught up and I loaded her with her obvious reluctance.

Outside the gate, I spotted what she'd probably been tracking -- a black cat! running across our field. Lovely! "No, Laev, you are NOT ALLOWED to be chasing BLACK CATS on our BH day." I turned from the drive to the road and a few hundred feet later, a second dark cat ran across the road in front of us. I swear I am not making this up.

Okay, so, it's gonna be a good day, oh yeah.

Laev and another bitch, both in pseudo-heat, were paired together and had to run last, to keep the field as clean as possible for the other dogs. That meant we waited through all of tracking, all of obedience and BHs, all of protection (and probably means that Laev heard a bit of protection in the car, but I suspect that was minimal). "That's okay," I told our judge while waiting, "I think I still have a fingernail left." Then it was finally our turn.

It was COLD. Really cold. As in, a good 10 degrees colder than predicted the day before, and a good 40 degrees colder than what it had been earlier in the week. I changed out of my warm suit for our routine, not wanting to change the picture she was used to practicing with (I am slower and louder in the suit).

I set Laev for the long honor down, but she didn't stay; she walked up quietly toward me (30 paces away with my back to her), downed again when I whispered to her, and I could hear her teeth chattering. She was shivering hard when I went to pick her up.

We started our heeling pattern, and she kept glancing toward the woods. We got pointed for forging (our long runs were toward the woods) and we had some sloppiness that was due to her distraction. She actually sniffed someone in the group, which is unusual for her. The judge caught that I made three German about turns and one U turn; the last was due to Laev's wavering attention and it pushed her back to looking at me! Both turns are legal, though, and I don't know of any rule that says they have to all match. To be fair, though, I was cheating on her, too -- the honoring dog had gotten up and she's very dog-aggressive, so I was glancing frequently at her to know how to manage our distance. Stressed human = inconsistent heeling dog.

No offered dog fights, and we finished our pattern and went for our critique. Unfortunately, my videographer didn't tape the critique. :-( We passed the first phase, and that was huge, because I knew the traffic test would be no problem for us.

Indeed, traffic test was pretty easy, and Laev now FINALLY has her BH. :-) Now we can concentrate on getting her third Novice leg, and doing a Rally Level 2, and, oh, doing tracking/obedience/protection all TOGETHER...!

But we made it, she didn't head for the woods, and she finally has that #%*$&@ BH. :-)

Laev is Armed and Dangerous

2007-11-06T04:33:00.000-05:00

So I was out of town at a convention for three days, leaving Laev home with Jon. She was very good, he reported, on Friday and Saturday.

Apparently, by Sunday, she was bored.

She got into the trash, she surfed the counter for tempting treats left in reach. Her worst moment was when she reached into the kitchen sink and took the 12" butcher knife used to cut her raw supper and ran about the house with it. I'm a bit glad I wasn't there to see all that...!

Jon has been reminded of the importance of giving a dog like Laev a job to keep her occupied. She can manage to be mannerly for a day or two, but three days with no mental work is just not reasonable and she will find a way (legal or no) to entertain herself. The next time I leave them together, he'll be stuffing Kongs or hiding frozen toys, I'm sure.

Inky and Shakespeare were apparently model citizens, especially when compared to Laev. ;)

Progress with Prey!

2007-11-02T00:24:00.001-04:00

This will be very, very quick, as I have to leave town early in the morning, but I had to share.

I did another session with Laev and the cat this afternoon. Now, yesterday's session was about 45 minutes long, total, to build up to heeling Laev away with a click every step or two.

Today's session, total, was just under 20 minutes, and I quit because I'd done all that I wanted to do, more than once. And then tonight at our Doberman club meeting, I paid for a brag because Laev RECALLED AWAY FROM A CAT. (More than once! though I didn't mention that.)

Now, I'm not going to pretend that she can recall away from a cat in the fresh flush of realization that the cat is there; she still needs to run a bit before she can focus. But she's getting way better!

I cannot believe this improvement! I hope we can continue this, and I hope I figure out a safe way to increase the cat's distraction.

Episode IV: A New Hope (part 2)

2007-10-31T23:41:00.001-04:00

I did another session with Laev behind the fence with the cat. My perfect plan would have been to do it Tuesday, to take advantage of any possible stiffness or soreness from her hours of running and wheeling on Sunday, but it didn't work out -- and she didn't look that sore, anyway. Dratted fit dog.

Today, though, I stopped and bought a new tripod on the way home and set up the video camera, fed the cat, and hit record. The cat was eating happily about 25' outside the fence, a comfortable distance for her. She was not active at all, just still and eating and then still and bathing, no real movement to speak of.

(The cat is always free to leave at any time, but she doesn't mind the food and the amusement of driving the dog nutty.)

Laev went bonkers for the cat, right on cue, but it was much less than I'd expected. No screaming, no biting at the fence, just running. She looked almost manageable. However, she couldn't interrupt her running for a long time, even though I got a few "dry" clicks (she didn't stop for her cream cheese) as she glanced briefly in my direction.

She finally did recall the nature of the game, though, and she stopped running at a time well short of three hours. ;) It was very obvious, though, when I over-faced her with a request ("sit") she couldn't bring herself to obey; she took off running again, even though she'd shown no inclination to run the moment before. Again, Laev handles all internal conflict through movement or her jaws; it's self-reinforcing to dump that stress. I'm going to have to figure out a way to prevent that, though, so that she can't get more R- by running than R+ by staying.

But Laev pulled herself together and actually started thinking for a short time, before my husband pulled in the drive. At his approach, the cat ran about 15' away, and Laev lost all brainpower. It took her QUITE a while to bring herself back. In the end, we were able to heel all the way to the house again, but it wasn't quite as good as Sunday, I don't think. (I'm not terribly proud of my technique today, either; I was a bit slow.) We did go through an entire 8 oz can of cream cheese, which might be a problem if Laev weren't running it off so efficiently.

I don't know if I've mentioned that Laev has indeed caught prey, including cats, before; we're working against previous reinforcement as well as genetics here.

I'm rendering that digital video now and will review it and then edit it to a manageable length, to ask some friends and gurus for help. I want to make sure we're progressing as quickly and smoothly as we can.

Episode IV: A New Hope (part 1)

2007-10-31T23:16:00.000-04:00

Forgive the post title, but I attended a Star Wars party over the weekend. And this is our fourth post on The Cat Incident and its fallout.

(With only a few minutes' notice that we were attending, I dressed as Callista-Sue Jade. Photo upon request. If you don't know who Callista, Mara Jade, and Mary Sue are, be glad of your social life. ;) )

Back to Laev.

Sunday afternoon, Laev spotted a cat outside the fence and began running the fence line, losing all semblance of control. I know that dragging her away from the cat only creates a stronger desire, born of frustration -- hence the adage of, "Always leave 'em wanting more!" And it's not that simple to catch a Laev in full cat-mode, either. I read somewhere that tests showed the aural-processing bits could actually shut down during true frenzy, and I think I have a sample case.

So I thought I'd try extinction. Let's see how long it takes for Laev to give up on the cat she can't reach, right? Couldn't be too long? The cat was sitting quite still, just waiting about 30' outside the fence for a human to happen by and feed it supper, so she wasn't actively stimulating the dog.

After about 30 minutes I gave up and went inside. After over 3 hours had passed, I didn't want to wait any more. I gave up on the idea of getting a baseline for extinction ("3.5 hours +") and went back outside with a clicker and a can of dispensing cream cheese. (The cat, by the way, hadn't moved; she was sitting exactly as I'd left her. So Laev had kept it up that long on just the visual, not any movement.)

Sometimes I wonder why we even bother to train for the AD*, when it's obviously so natural and easy for a fit dog.

I stood somewhat behind Laev. (I'm not foolish enough to risk my knees by standing in the path of a prey-frenzied dog; I've known two trainers who spent months on crutches after similar encounters and another pet owner who needed months of recovery.) I waited. I waited. I said nothing. Laev slowed to a long trot instead of a gallop. I waited. And then Laev paused, four feet on the ground at once, and I clicked.

No response from her, but I didn't really expect one, either. She continued running the fence. This went on for a while, my clicking whenever she happened to pause for a half-second or so and then her running on.

At last, though, she tipped her head toward me as she passed and I clicked and held out the cream cheese and she STOPPED. I quickly clicked and treated repeatedly, squirting cream cheese into her mouth as rapidly as I could click. Then I hesitated, she glanced up, and I clicked for eye contact.

Ah! The beginnings of communication!

She couldn't hold herself still for long, though, and she went off to run the fence again. But this stretch of running wasn't nearly so long, and soon she was able to pause by me again. I was quite pleased.

I gradually raised the criteria, requiring eye contact for clicks and then sustained eye contact, up to two seconds. Yes, that sounds tiny in print, but trust me, it was big! She kept glancing at me and then hurriedly looking back at the still cat. (The cat was fed by now, eating happily in place.)

I asked for a sit, and that was too much -- she hesitated and then bolted. Conflict must be resolved in movement, with Laev, and if she couldn't move from a stand to a sit, she had to run.

I waited (what had I to lose?) and clicked her back to focus again. This time she could sit, and follow me a step or two. Everything was fine 'til the cat moved.

Laev went berserk, screaming and biting the wire of the fence, trying to tear it out of her path. (This after *hours* of running?!) I waited; it's not as if I could do much to interrupt that, anyway. It would take an awfully strong aversive, and I don't want to go there. Fortunately the cat was content with the chunks of solid cheese I threw across the fence and she settled down about 15-20' away and watched with feline amusement.

I gradually clicked Laev back to focus and rebuilt our short spans of attention and movement. I called her to front, parallel to the cat. Cream cheese reward. I turned after a couple of reps and asked her to face the other way, still parallel to the cat. No problem. Then I took a giant leap and stepped back from the fence, asking her to front with her back to the cat.

It was almost possible to see her brain smoke, but she did it. She kept glancing over her shoulder, but I kept the cream cheese coming as fast as possible in short spurts, and she stayed with me. We went back to parallel tasks (sit and front), with heavy reinforcement for looking at me instead of the cat.

Our crowning achievement was working up to two steps of heeling, with full eye contact, with Laev between the cat and me (looking away from the cat to me). I reinforced massively and then led Laev, step by step, clicking and treating at nearly each step, away from the fence back to the house -- which is at least a couple hundred feet and that's a lot of clicked steps, if you ever wondered.

I wish desperately I had video of that session. We achieved a lot, and I'd love others' feedback on it and suggestions for improvement. Also, it'd be nice to have proof of what Laev's prey frenzy is really like, as it's hard to describe, so I don't always get relevant advice.

But Laev makes me -- forces me to be -- a better trainer. :)

* The AD is an endurance test of physical fitness and ability, consisting primarily of a 12.5 run alongside the biking handler.

A Better Day

2007-10-28T01:08:00.000-04:00

Last night, I was doing some basic distraction work (my husband has Laev's supper, and she has to recall to me and do work for a click and a send to him for a snack), which took much longer than usual due to my dog's difficult in re-focusing. She was constantly scanning for prey. Once, during a recall, she never made it to me, pausing midway to pounce double-pawed on a passing leaf. Ouch. We HAVE regressed, haven't we?

I was scheduled to do clicker training demos for a veterinary open house today, and drizzly weather meant the event was moved entirely indoors. I got for my training area a very nice matted area -- which also happened to be where the boarded cats lived in one corner of cattery runs.

Oh, stink.

No matter! This is an excellent opportunity for training and working through our current issues. I would try it with Laev. If she were too bad, I'd just stash her in the car for the day; it's not fair to traumatize the cats, who didn't sign up to be guinea pigs. But if she could learn to work beside them, that could be a giant step forward again for us, right?

Fortunately, I'd brought three levels of treat values for the day.

The cats were perfect; I'd like to rent this batch for the future. One shy kitty was covered so she didn't have to see us, and the other two were just awesome -- nice and laid back, not particularly active or spooky. If Laev got too close, one hissed at her, but there was no frantic prey movement and that was ideal.

I did my first acclimatization before any spectators arrived, with Laev safely on leash so that she couldn't rage against the cattery cage doors if she were inclined. She did alert on the cats and go all predatory, but I stayed calm and backed away until she turned, at which point I clicked and treated.

We gradually worked our way closer and closer, until Laev was sniffing most eagerly at the cage doors but could, with great effort, tear herself away when asked. Since I would not have guessed we'd ever be able to get to that point in several weeks, I was very pleased, and we stopped there.

Laev and Shakespeare each did some shaping demos, and Shakespeare "volunteered" for training by a number of visitors. He's forgiving enough that slow or mis-timed clicks, while confusing and frustrating, don't stop him working entirely, and I am coaching to keep the rate of reinforcement high enough that it's worth his while.

Intermittently, however, I'd bring Laev out and work her. When we could heel off leash past the cats without losing eye contact, I thought we'd achieved some sort of training miracle. It's been only three days since The Cat Incident! Is this Laev? Is she ill?

Then we went out front for a bit, where chaos reigned. The building was crowded with an entire fair's worth of exhibits and activities (ferrets, wildlife rehabilitation, toss games, tortoises, raffles, quizzes, a food bar, pet caricatures, photography, etc.) compressed into one space, and of course there are always folks not watching where their leashes pull because their dogs are nice and won't get into trouble, they assume. Laev was pretty freaked out by the press and activity, actually cowering and even trembling twice. (That is NOT my dog.) She snarked at one dog who pushed cheerily right into her face, but only for the second it took to remove the offender. I had given her a toy to carry, so that helped vent her stress safely, but she was clearly having a rough time of it.

But that can't stop us! We were going to work through it. I pulled out the squeeze cream cheese (which had been working miracles near the cattery) and began treating her regularly for sitting still beside me, buffered by myself and a wall. It took probably 10 minutes, but she was soon working promptly for her licks of cheese -- no more hesitation or glancing about. Another 10 minutes, and she was a pro, moving about and not even glancing at the other people or dogs that pushed about us. While she was sitting at front, eyes on me, a strange dog jabbed its head between my legs -- I simply closed my legs to push it out and treated Laev, who barely blinked at it.

I would really like to have returned to the busy lobby later for another practice round, but we didn't have a chance. But it was an excellent experience for her.

Of course, my high came to a crashing end when I arrived home and discovered our outdoor cat beside my car as I released Shakespeare. He chased her (he enjoys making cats move) and Laev, watching through her crate door, went slightly berserk. I didn't release her for some time, hoping she'd forget about it, but nope! she downed and waited nicely for the door and then went screeching off in search of the cat, finding it in the tree and going quite mad below. I collected her physically and put her in her run, but that battle was a loss.

Still, in the grand scale of the war on predation and distraction, I have at least one victory.