Back to Bootcamp…by Lisa Harmon July 2, 2008

Kenai in the early morning light, 26 wks old

I missed puppy class last night, unfortunately. The monster migraine continued through Monday, landing me in urgent care. So yesterday I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I wasn’t about to go to an enclosed space with little dogs screeching at ear shattering volumes for an hour. I’d have made a return visit to urgent care afterwards.

I short-changed Kenai, I know, but he wouldn’t have been handled by a calm and happy person, so in a way I didn’t short-change him. If my point of going is to create a fun experience, where he can learn to concentrate through distraction, my own inability would have made it near impossible for him. Sorry bud, you’ve got a less than ideal “mom”.

Monday and Tuesday were not Kenai’s more attentive days. You’d think with those big long fruit bat ears he’d notice a whisper, let alone a holler! No dice. Not even looking when his name was called. So by the end of two days I was irritable with him. Oops. I confess to snapping a couple times.

I did get him some chews at least, but that little hooligan actually went back at the shoe he was scolded for the other day. Then he got himself an intense scolding—I was pretty mad. He tiptoed for about half an hour, waiting for the last trace of ticked off to vanish. Little Big Bottoms played gently after that too. But don’t worry, he went back to not listening later!

The deafness to recall continued for this morning’s run, which is disappointing. I had hoped the work we’d done so far would only need reminders to retain. Guess not. So afternoon playtime will be a return to “recall bootcamp”. Half come and half ignore isn’t going to be acceptable, sweetheart.

I tried running a little with him on leash yesterday to create excitement for the “come”, and managed to twist my ankle, so moving to plan B: a longer 20 foot leash. Whatever made me think I could keep up with him? Duh…

Kenai’s been a sniffer since day one, with strong tracking instincts. The breed was developed for hunting after all. The packaged treats aren’t high value enough either: meat can interrupt the sniff but a doggie biscuit can’t. This is going to take a fair amount of extended practice to make “come” a default behavior.  

Such is life, getting an independent dog to habitually ignore instinct in favor of commands. We’ll be working all day on looking when his name is called as well. He went off that too, the beautiful schmoo. Especially when he and his brother were trying to play over the expen barrier in the living room. My ill health probably contributed to the boy’s behavior. But ill or not, they have to behave.

I’m kicking around the idea of buying a padded service dog harness for Kenai already, since the nylon easy walker harness isn’t terribly comfortable—it can dig a bit behind the front legs. No doubt we’d need a second service harness when he’s grown, but they are made to be more comfortable, and worn for longer periods. He walks better on a harness than a collar anyway, which is what I’m after, not weight bearing yet. He’s far too young for that.

Our puppy class instructor is one of those numerous trainers that pushes everyone to use pinch collars. There are some dogs so difficult you need a pinch collar to get their attention. A dog who is outright unruly, or whose high energy makes them unresponsive, needs the simulated “bite” for correction.

Dogs who are sensitive or anxious to begin with though, can be made downright scatterbrained by the strong correction of a pinch collar. Kenai would not do well with one, not well at all. When looking at tools to stop unwanted behaviors, we need to match the intensity of correction with the intensity of the dog.

There is a tendency to think that a tool which works for one dog works for them all. There we go again, categorizing and oversimplifying. We forget dogs have personalities when we walk into a training class. Take Kenai for example: he pulls with a regular collar, so I got a gentle leader for him. The GL caused an emotional “shut down” every time. It also simulates the muzzle “bite” of an alpha dog as a correction for pulling.

Kenai didn’t need the “bite”, and in fact it was too much correction for him. So a pinch collar could be disastrous. The easy walker harness did the trick: no pulling, and yet no “bite”. It squeezes the chest when he pulls, and that was all he needed.

The tool that best controls a dog is the human’s emotions, which is why I didn’t go to puppy class: not in charge of myself, let alone Kenai. Few people have that ideal “Dog Whisperer” energy, myself included, so things like gentle leaders, pinch collars, and such can be very helpful. But no tool in the world can substitute for a strong and confident human.

For those of us working on but falling a little short of the “dog whisperer” energy, the best tool we have is tenacity. Kenai has rocked me onto my heels a few times, and tested my knowledge for sure, but the trick is coming back with a plan and putting your confidence in it.

Tenacity is the most needed and often least acquired skill in humans. We have a tendency to give up pretty fast. We slide into irritation, or simply roll over and live with what we don’t want to. We can’t expect a tool to do the work for us, so we don’t have to notice and alter our own less than ideal attitudes. Like taking a pill instead of changing our diets.

Tenacity is made up of 2 parts: patience, and certainty. Let go of either, and you’ve lost. I’m certain that Kenai can become an outstandingly obedient dog, but I need the patience to keep at his training, finding what methods work for us and just keeping at it. Like the recall—it takes as long as it takes to make come such an ingrained habit it overrides Kenai’s instinct to sniff out stinky stuff.

One size doesn’t really fit all in fashion, nor in dogs. We can’t forget that we are working with a living creature, with feelings, likes, dislikes, and needs! Not one of my boys, past or present, have been the same. Thankfully.