Emotional Bank Accounts: Neutral is Not Enough

This weekend, on one of the most beautiful days of the spring we've had so far, Lowell, Maebe, Fate, and I had paused at the side of a popular multi-use pathway in a well-traveled city park by our home in the middle of a mid-day run.  Fate and I were standing well off the trail, she was on leash and right at my side sniffing some grass when a roughly 50 year old man dressed in running clothes (yet presumably also under the influence of drugs or alcohol while out for some exercise) came running down the trail and rushed straight at Fate and I as he hurled threats and obscenities at us and physically threatened to kick Fate, coming within inches of us.  He continued his verbal assault at the top of his lungs as he continued to run down the path out of sight and earshot.  It was jarring, to say the least, and mostly Lowell and I stood there in disbelief.  I tried to not let the experience wreck my lovely day, and for the most part I succeeded.

The next morning though, as we were walking the dogs along the path again, I felt myself become irritated as I saw two female runners approach.  When we pass other trail users, we as a rule cue our dogs to step off the trail and stand to the side to let them go by.  I did this as always, but this time I felt a twinge of resentment and reluctance to share the path with a runner and felt myself wishing they weren't there.

On today's walk, we were passed on the road by a runner bearing roughly the same demographic profile as the man who threatened us, and I felt myself have a physiologic fear response as my sympathetic nervous system was activated, and I automatically clutched the leash to pull Fate closer to me.  Of course, like the vast majority of runners, this man simply wished us a good morning as he passed.

What went through my mind as I observed this involuntary reaction on my part was how many stories I hear from owners who can point to a pivotal scary event that impacted their dog's behavior in response to a certain trigger, whether it be other dogs, the veterinarian, cars, or toe nail clippers.

Lowell is a runner.  I am a runner.  Heck, we were on a run at the time.  We run with our friends, also runners.  One of our favorite weekends of the year every year is a three-day running event.  I encounter runners just about every time I leave the house.  Overwhelmingly the encounters range from neutral, to (perhaps even more often) friendly and cordial.  I usually have pretty good perspective and coping skills in general, but even with that healthy "bank account" of good experiences built up, I am having a temporary negative conditioned emotional response right now.  So, why do we expect it would be any different for our dogs?  And what if I didn't have that history of positive associations?  What if this was the first runner I had encountered, or the first time I'd gone to that park?  What if I had encountered a high proportion of other unfriendly runners in the past?

I hear owners all the time dismiss the importance of continuing to create positive associations and good experiences because their dog is "fine" with people, dogs, handling, noises, etc.  I tell them neutral is not enough - I want the dogs to LOVE these things.  I want them to work on building that bank account and creating the most resilient dog that they can.

Because the fact is, sometimes unpleasant things out of our control happen.  Even the best practices and habits can't prevent everything, and if we want to live our lives and let our dogs do the same, we are always running that risk.  The event this weekend happened on a popular multi-use path at a prime time of day on a gorgeous weekend when people were out and about.  We were minding our own business and had not been engaging the runner/assailant in any way.  The only way we could have reliably prevented that encounter would have been to sit in our living room on a beautiful spring morning and hide away from the world outside.  Which of course is no way to live.

I'll recover, because I know that overall the world and people are generally pleasant.  My genetic predisposition and past history tells me so, but still I'll appreciate every friendly runner who passes me with a wave and smile and helps remind me of that in the coming days.  And as for Fate - she's fine.  She wasn't touched and she barely noticed a thing.  Clearly her bank account is bigger than mine!

Barn Hunt

In our new effort to make training fresh again, Lowell and I are doing something we haven't done in a while - taking in-person lessons with our own dogs again!  Having decided the dogs could use a new activity, we decided to sign up for some barn hunt lessons with Tempo, Cadence, and Fate.  We thought it seemed like a fun option for all of them.  It is a terrier's dream for Tempo.  Cadence has done a bit of nose work in the past and enjoys it, and the physical demands of the sport are within his capabilities.  Fate just likes to do stuff.  Anything.  But, honestly, she tends to be so handler-focused, that an exercise like this where she needs to problem-solve independently is a good thing for her.

For anyone not familiar with barn hunt, it is basically tracking for live rats hidden (in safe, secure tubes) among bales of hay.  Lest anyone worry about the welfare of the rats, rest assured that all the barn hunt rats I have known are also loved family pets who are specifically desensitized to dogs and the tubes, are trained to go in on their own, and most I know are also given the choice on any given day whether or not they want to get in the tube to be the decoy.  I can tell you that the rat our dogs first learned on was so bold that he was trying to reach through the bars of his cage to get to the treats I was giving to my dog inches away.  I like rats.  I've had them as pets.  I wouldn't do any exercise that I felt was traumatic to them.  If you are worried, you can read more about barn hunt rat care here.

The way the terrier and the BCs took to the sport was quite different.  For Tempo, it is pure predation and terrier drive.  Once he saw the rat on the first day, he was hooked, but if anything his arousal and excitement becomes a barrier to him being able to think straight and figure out what is relevant.  His first couple runs tend to have a frantic, unfocused pace.  Rats! Hay! Barn! Smells!  Once he has bounced off every bale of hay a few times, he settles into it better and starts to think.  I think he finds the tube a bit disappointing though.  I think it is a little bit of a let down when he can't see the actual rat, so every now and then the instructor lets him have a little glimpse of the rat, which seems to make him happy.

When Cadence and Fate saw the rat in the cage at the first lesson, they were actually a little disturbed by him.  Once he was in his tube and they didn't have to look at him, they got into it as a nose work exercise though.  There is much less predatory drive at play for these two - instead it is a problem-solving task.  Cadence has done the most nose work, so he is picking the sport up the fastest of any of them.  His barrier right now is building confidence to climb up on the hay bales due to his coordination problems.  I can usually tell now if he thinks the rat is up high, so then I show him a safe way to get on the bales (which I'm told is legal as long as I don't touch him).

I think Fate honestly thought this was all a little bit stupid until halfway through the second lesson, when she finally started to put it all together.  Once the light bulb went on, she started straining to go between hides, so I think she's beginning to like it.

Here is a video of Cadence at his second lesson:


And one of Tempo:


(Lowell is asking if it is legal for him to use his body to block Tempo from attempting to jump straight off the top of the bales of hay - which he had already done once - and to guide him back to a safer climb down.  It was.)

Twist of Fate

Early this fall, we were talking with a friend who was contemplating a third dog, and she asked if we thought we'd ever get a sixth dog.  Our answer was a simple "no."  It seemed pretty clear.  Sure, there would be the logistics - we'd need to get another crate in the van and the house, need to buy more food, dog supplies, heart worm medications, etc.  But mostly, I told her, we have such a nice balance with our five.  I couldn't imagine finding a sixth dog that could fit in seamlessly with our combination, who were all coexisting well, and who we were able to balance our time with according to all their needs.

Then in early October I got an e-mail.  Due to a variety of unfortunate circumstances, none of which were her fault, Cadence's littermate was needing a new home.  Would we be interested?  As anyone who knows me or reads my blog is well aware, I adore Cadence - am hopelessly smitten over him - and the thought of having his sister was appealing.  Especially when I looked at her photos, with the same bright eyes and happy expression that melt my heart daily - it was tempting, but we responded, thank you, but we just can't right now.

To make a long story short, about a month or so later we were driving to Canada to bring her home.  It is hard to explain what changed, but we came to believe that she was meant to be with us.  We've never gone wrong following our hearts, and we've come to trust the way our pets have all found us, whether we were looking for them at the time or not.  And so we settled on her new name:  Fate.

She settled into our household like she had been there all along.  We have never had such an easy transition introducing a new pet to the family.  Within an hour of arriving home, she was crashed on "her" spot on the couch and everyone was out and relaxed together.

Fate truly loves life, and is the happiest thing we've ever seen.  No matter what we are going to do, it is her favorite thing ever, whether we are going for a run, doing some training, taking a walk, or curling up with a book on the couch.  Her enthusiasm is infectious, if a bit loud at times.  (We were thinking of naming her Aria originally, which also would have been a fitting name given her impressive "singing" ability.)

Having two littermates now, it is fun to see their similarities and differences.  Both are incredible cuddlers, and are on either side of your lap as soon as you sit down, each nudging an arm for some petting.  Both have a lot of drive, but are sensitive at the same time.  Both love snow and make synchronized "snow angel dogs" in the yard after every snowfall.  And, if her one splash in the pond during a November run is any indication, both will be obsessed water dogs.

They also complement each other nicely in training.  Cadence is like the "head" of the two - he is smart, thoughtful, and a problem solver.  He picks things up quickly, thinks things through, and is a blast to clicker-train as he is so operant and clever and offers behaviors readily.  Fate, on the other hand, is all "heart."  She is full of joy and never gives up and would work and work and work all day doing anything you asked of her.  They are very fun, and I am loving the different things they teach me about training every day.

So, we are looking forward to many adventures ahead with our newest addition.  Funny how the right thing finds you when you didn't even know you were looking for it.  Welcome home, Fate.