Play Behavior

Hi,

My finger isn’t on the pulse of a damn thing. The quality of dog training in the last decade has increased tremendously. I’m retired, so I don’t write so much about training or life style with dog issues any more. Plenty of fine people do that.

Having said that, I’m about to talk to you about living with dogs and what I believe the dogs like because I’ve been reading stuff that says adult dogs don’t like to play, that we’re treating them like furry humans and that’s wrong, that we’re imposing play on them because we really want to play.

Yes, some dogs get over stimulated in day care; that is a management issue. That doesn’t mean a dog shouldn’t play with others. Is it an individual choice or a behavioral limitation? I’d say yes on both counts; how about you?

Does this dog need behavioral counselling? Only if it’s important to you that the dog do something it’s not currently comfortable with or good at? If it’s an issue for the human, it’s an issue.

Please, don’t try to tell me that adult dogs don’t play, that they only play because we want them to or expect it of them. Even if that were the case, so what?

Dogs that are reasonably well nourished and not in pain play in the cool of the evening here in the country, where they have room to run. Dogs seek safe play companions.

Robert "Red" Redford

Nobody wants to play with Blondie unless she’s extremely solicitous. The boys Lucky and Robert Redford play together or with Chi-Ping and she gets bitchy if they’re too rough with her, so they play best with each other. Lucky gets in Red’s face when he gets carried away. Blondie can be a real asshole when she gets pissed so she has to show a lot of play face and soliciting behavior before they play with her.

In the morning, they lineup to go hunting with her, so it’s not that they don’t want anything to do with her.

The dogs here play when they want to because I rarely do anything other than live with them. I am a totally non fun human being, but when I am fun they love it. They show off how they can run. They compete for my attention.

As long as they know my ground rules, the satos on the hill do what they want.

Christmas Eve on Sato Hill

Beautiful boys bound through the grass, this spring’s puppies grown into active adolescents live like this is their neighborhood; it isn’t. It belongs to the humans who live in the houses. They have the power to snuff out a life at their will. Generations of dogs have suffered this plight.

My neighbor boy just sixteen, a human child shows off his motorcycle to cousins’ delight burning rubber, oh what a sight with smoke billowing up from the road. His mommy is calling with impatient voice; he ignores her until the call softens to a plea. “What,” he calls in Spanish, of course. A child on a short leash, the adolescent stretches his bonds. He kept his bike running, enjoying cousins’ approval. Oh, did mommy get mad, but it did her no good. She stormed in her casa doing whatever loud things you can do in a house to communicate anger.

From the garage, the toys came out, the best, a trike, cousin tried tearing ass down the road. Girl cousin in a pretty dress bounced up and down on the balls of her toes. Mommy forgotten; acceptance, approval passed around. Here come the dogs from Sato Hill, Lucky, Robert Redford, led by Chi-Ping, the terrier. Blondie barked fiercely from inside the in the house.

Ruff, ruff, the sound of defense, Robert Redford, Lucky, and Chi barked, slowing down at the bottom of the drive to assess the situation before plowing across; Chi stopped, the boys held ground behind her, or as guys in the states say, backed her up. Lucky held tight watching Chi’s every move, but Robert Redford, the handsome golden boy trotted directly to the center of the group despite having been knocked in the snoot. He walked right up to the girl, of course, looked her in the eye, surprised her, she looked back didn’t seem to know what to do, her brother, a young man walked to her with a dominant stride. Red cowered, unsure; my neighbor’s cousin walked past him without much notice.

From the porch I cooed, “Chi-Ping, there’s a good girl, come on, good girl.” She looked over her shoulder. I knew she was mine, if I could bring her in. “Goooood girl, what a good girl,” I wooed. She looked at the activity in the street. “Where’s my good girl?” The look on her face said, oh, what the heck. Her head in a neutral posture she trotted up to the house. The wooing continued with spaced praise.

Robert Redford trotted up to Lucky, who held fast, barking to build up his courage. Ruff, ruff is the sound of the bark; I’ve heard it so often in the dark. Chi came and wanted her petting, which I gladly gave, and then quickly put her in the house. Lucky, now in the lead, Robert Redford had his back. “Lucky, good boy, where’s my good boy,” that’s all it took, lucky for me. I praised him all the way back until he gave me a sit, so proud of himself. I’ve worked with him since he was a pup. I’m not ambitious these days so we do what we do when I think about doing it; it’s a shame, but Lucky came back with Robert Redford trailing. They came in the house for treats all around Smoki, the cat never questioned his participation.

Mommy next door called in a loud piteous voice, the cousins got in a car, burning rubber up the hill waving out windows a friendly goodbye. Neighbor boy’s shoulders slumped, as he walked in the house where mommy spoke to him in very controlled tones, her voice faltering, somehow she managed.

Lucky and Red went back out on the porch, found a spot, rolled on their backs to snooze. Geri, another neighbor came out with a huge piece of fried dough, at least that’s what it looked like from the porch. I got a bad feeling, so I called the boys, who jumped up ready. We walked towards the front door, me talking and squeaking. Geri whistled the tune he plays for the dogs when he wants them to come. I squeaked louder and told how good they were. They wagged their tails following to the door, when I opened it out pounced Blondie and Chi, who I hadn’t really thought about, so they all took off for Geri and his fried whatever.

Chi-Ping stopped, gave it a sniff, but trotted off to another neighbor’s yard. Blondie loves this guy, she’s known him longer than me, so she allowed herself to be pet, but wouldn’t accept his offering. Robert Redford, rarely shy, held his tail and head low, walked over to Geri, who pet him with one hand and fed him with the other. With gift in his mouth Red scurried away. Blondie, ho had stepped aside, came back to Geri for petting. He’s very affectionate with the dogs. I wonder why he calls Adri to scream and yell about the dogs being lose, when he calls them coaxing them down to the killing ground, where dogs get hit in the road or other hellish things. I’ve asked him not to so many times.

My husband died six months ago and it’s Christmas eve, a weird time for me. Enjoy each other, and of course the critters. 

Learned Something

People never cease to confound, a man with a walking stick stood at my neighbor’s gate. The dogs charged down our driveway barking, cautiously they barked from our side of the road, when Robert Redford with head submissively low and humble tail wagging crossed the road. The man seemed to ignore him, so he sniffed his leg gently. The man whacked him in the nose so fast.

Blondie doesn’t like men messing with her friends, so she waited for an opening. He kept an eye on her while gabbing away, and when he turned to go she went in for a nip. He thankfully was quick, but she circled him barking all the way up the hill, when he left, with Lucky bouncing and barking without a clue of what it was all about.

Chi-Ping barked in the house, a blessing because the fast little bitch will circle around for a nip when a man is facing off with Blondie. She can be a handful of trouble. I should really find these boys a home before jerks like this ruin my lovely guys’ attitudes. 

All this man had to do was say, “Hey, Boy,” Robert Redford would have wagged his tail some more and walked away. He just wanted to say, “Hi.” The man didn’t need to crack him so hard. The sad part is that if he had talked to “Red,” Blondie would have stood down, ending the alert.

Sweet red boy ran right home to mama. I told him what a good boy he was to come to his mom, some petting for reward. I may be lazy about training lately, but I’m not one to miss an opportunity. “What a good dog,” as Barbara Woodhouse used to say.

Just when I thought it’s time to go in, teenagers , who not more than a week ago, stopped their car at the bottom of my drive long enough to yell, “Mother fucker,” to the boy, who lives across the street from me, are standing at his gate, calling his name. The three dogs on the porch with me growl as one. From inside Chi growls like she’s crazy out of her mind to get out. Our readers know what a drama queen she is. The boys must have made up; they went in the house to the relief of all.

We all learned something this weekend before Christmas. Robert Redford learned that coming to mom is good. Blondie learned how intimidate this man. Blondie scares this guy; it’s so much fun, Lucky learned; let’s bark and bounce. I learned what Baby Hueys my boys are. The man learned that he’s a heartless, stupid idiot, if he understands English. The asshole part I do think he got. My neighbor boy doesn't speak any English, but his friends swear at him in English; doesn't that strike you as funny?

People, Love or Hate by Chi-Ping

Everybody goes out to potty; mom feeds the kibble starting with the cat. Smoki meows on about everything until he gets his. The puppies eat a special food on the porch and the grown up dogs eat in the house while mom makes eggs. She and poppy breakfast on the porch with puppies hanging under the chairs waiting like good dogs for something to drop.

When the dishes are collected, I slip in the door for special time with mom as she wipes the dishes and pans of leftovers, and the olive oil she says is good for my coat. Quality spent with mom as I lick up leftovers is my favorite ritual. She sets my bowl down next to the counter, instantly I am zoned out in licktopia, oh it’s so good. She shoos a fly towards the door, but it comes back to the counter for more, and bam! My legs won’t hold me as I skitter across the floor fleeing attack.   My heart is beating a mile a minute, and all she can say is “sorry.” Sorry doesn’t cut it; you need to be pulling some cheese out of the fridge after that. You scared a dog year off my life; what were you thinking?  My tail’s wagging low, maybe a little cheddar will pick it up a bit. Hell, I’m going back outside. Blondie has yellow lab cornered by the garage. He’s bigger than she is, but he’s weak and hungry. This is our turf, so she shags him with authority. My tail cuts through the air like a shark fin as I hurtle down the driveway barking threats. He’s in for it now.

We don’t need a big male dog stepping first in line for food or treats, or anything else. Some days we’ve gone hungry, you don’t forget that. Sharing with Lucky and Robert Redford isn’t too bad so far, but no more.

Hey, Puerto Rican People, stop throwing your dogs out. You’re messing up lives. What’s the matter with you? You bring us into your families and then toss us out “no importa.” Today you love us like there’s no tomorrow, and tomorrow we’re forgotten.  I thought my familia was better than that.

Remember, feed a Sato, starve a rat. It’s an island rule. Most people are good and kind, but the ones that aren’t just don’t get it. They need to know that other humans do NOT approve of abandoning animals. Don’t call for more laws, take action, photograph cruelty and post it on Facebook. Tell these mean, unfeeling humans that you stand by the animals, that good people do care! Gracias, Chi-Ping

Protecting Resources

Like Storm Troopers, Blondie and Chi-Ping tore out of Adri’s van in search of the dog, whose scent gave her away the moment the girls pulled in the driveway after two months of being at Amigos de Los Animales Shelter in Pinones. Within seconds they were on her, stinging her with nips driving her to the garage at the bottom of the driveway before coming to my call, which sing halleluiah; they came.

A perpetually full bowl of food for over a year has changed Blondie in that she no longer stands over the bowl to protect it. Blondie still alerts when Chi approaches the bowl. If Blondie remains tense with eyes focusing on her, Chi-Ping knows of Blondie’s disapproval, which means walk away, and sneak back later to Chi-Chi. Today Blondie exhaled audibly, turned her head away, and laid down. Chi stopped, picked her head up, looked at Blondie, a tiny cock of her head, and then Chi-Ping strode to the dish knowing she had Blondie’s approval. It was the first time I’ve ever seen her give Chi-Ping anything more than covert approval, which always looked like eat, if you must, but I’m not going to like it.

The effect of being hungry stays with you for a long time. You never want to feel that again. It’s a motivator. Blondie protects her resources with gusto, so Adri rescuing the little Chihuahua trumps me working with Blondie to accept small creatures she can shag out of the neighborhood in a heartbeat. I have my hands full at the moment with my husband recovering from surgery.

I would say that she pushes out the smaller dogs, but Blondie never bothered with Chi-Ping when she tumbled on to the hill. Stormy, our first Sato, was a small Border Collie. She adored him. Figuring out what pushes the buttons, that’s the challenge. Hey-ho, dogs be with you.

A Case of Predatory Drift

Hi,

Recently been reading some posts on line questioning the if predatory drift really exists. The following experience is in my opinion an example.

Chi-Ping, the rat terrier mix and Blondie, the big former street dog were playing tag running from the yard to the porch. Smoki, the curmudgeon cat inserted himself into the game hissing and puffing at the big girl, who had her play face on and backed up as he puffed at her. She even gave him a half assed play bow. It was a sweet family moment. I smiled feeling good about my animal friends.

Something in the grass or down the hill caught Blondie’s attention for a second or two at most. She looked in the direction of the edge of our property, when she looked back her whole demeanor had changed. She was stiff, upright, ears forward.

The cat raised his paw to swat her again. Her mouth opened. I delivered the stop what you are doing sound. Luckily both critters looked at me. Blondie looked as if she came back to a place where she wouldn’t hurt Smoki.

The whole thing lasted but a moment, but it was a Jekyll and Hyde moment.  I suspect this was one of those predatory drift moments.

Blondie and Smoki have lived together for eight months. Smoki is the house boss because he is the one most comfortable with his humans. With a life time of experience training dogs Smoki had no problems with the tough street veteran in the house.

Outside on Blondie’s home turf where she has killed rats and cats and who knows what else. This was the first time I had all three of them outside together.

So much of the discussion on line is about dogs in play groups. During my years running dogs in day care groups, it seemed to me that most of what people thought of as predatory drift was another behavior anomaly or one dog with a history with another taking a cheap shot.

So what do you think?   

More on Predatory Drift

My experience is that in many cases; the drifter has been trained with coercive techniques.


Okay, this isn’t exactly what I meant. What I meant to say aggression begets aggression. The dog that gets away with a behavior one time and then the next gets clocked in the head for the same behavior is more likely to be a drifter.


Dogs that don’t feel well or hypothyroid dogs may flair up. A dog with a sore back is notorious for being grouchy.


Often two dogs that aren’t getting along will take advantage of a stimulating moment to take a nip. The momentary snapping and spitting through teeth is a spat. That’s just two dogs getting their relationship worked out.


A spat is the k9 equivalent of having harsh words. It’s over in about twenty seconds or less. By the time you react to say no, stop or OMG; it’s over.


That may be what some are calling P.D. Is that what you see as predatory drift? Or does P.D. result in puncture or rip and tear?

Predatory Drift

On the subject of predatory drift; can we agree that dog drifting over the line has a hair trigger compared to the dog that can engage in stimulating or competitive play without losing it.



Some breeds come by a lower threshold of stimulation genetically. Hmm, pits come immediately to mind.


My experience is that in many cases; the drifter has been trained with coercive techniques.


The other important factor in my opinion is young dogs need to develop social skills beyond the litter box. A litter bully needs to learn consequences to uncontrolled behavior. If a puppy like this has no further contact with others from leaving the litter mates it beat up until adulthood that dog has not learned the social pressure of self control. Does that make sense?


In street dogs I’ve seen groups of males interlope another dog’s spot. I could see the rage in the face of the dog whose space was invaded. The boys swarm around and may jostle the home dog. Home dog wisely tolerates the intrusion. Watching these dogs has taught me how naïve our dogs are when it comes to social skills or dog language.


Canine social skills are impaired by isolation during maturation.


Finally, we introduce dogs one on one. Two dogs without the skills acquired in adolescence are better when they get to know each other without one of them having his buds to back him up. A month later the new dog is friends with these dogs. The first dog jostles new dog, who can now respond without the dogs backing up the other dog, so now you get the one on one. It’s fast and it can be ugly.


Predatory drift is not a mystery. I believe it follows these threads. What do you think?

Puerto Rican Satos Share Space

Three intact free ranging males and one spayed female sharing the same space can be interesting.

Stormy the resident male for almost six years wants no other male here; on that this dog is perfectly clear.


The injured Owl had no intention of leaving no matter how many beatings he had to endure from Stormy. Blondie began to like Owl, but would join in Stormy’s attacks. Every neighbor yelled, “Hey!” when Stormy attacked him, so he backed off. It wasn’t any more difficult than that to my surprise. Every once in a while Stormy can’t resist taking food from Owl; otherwise they get along.

Since Bluto moved up here, Stormy has focused on Bluto removal. Stormy’s tactics are genius. He constantly nags staying just out of reach. Any nippy games Bluto may want to play with Blondie or Owl end up with Bluto getting his butt chewed by Storm. He just makes his adversary’s life hell until they leave. Bluto just doesn’t want to be alone; we stop Stormy.


Stormy’s determination undermines the other dog’s confidence, once that stopped Bluto moved to bully Stormy. A couple of lacerations later, they both understand there is no fighting on my porch. These two got into it good; it was a blood all over brawl. Owl sat in the corner and watched. Blondie took Storm’s side. He still ended up with a badly bleeding ear. No wonder why he’s starting to look like Mickey Bourke.


Stormy, Blondie and Bluto can be raising hell, barking and spitting through teeth. Owl will wind his way through the mess, sticking his tongue out about an inch as he goes past each one. They completely ignore him. He must know the password.
 Owl gets himself into trouble when he forgets to lower his tail. He riled up, runs down the drive with his tail straight in the air. When it’s all over and his tail is still straight the other boys will remind him to lower his mast or else. Being submissive immediately gets him out of it, so far.

Life and Death

“It’s mine; I don’t care, if I don’t like it.” Stormy woofed down the commercial dog treat. You may know the one I’m talking about; it’s just so artificial. Naturally fed dogs like Stormy don’t want them, until another dog is interested. Once in the mouth flavor enhancers do their work, dogs must have more.



Stormy submits to Kirt chopping the burrs out of his matted fur. The occasional dose of flavor gets Storm’s full co-operation. I put some Neosporin over his right eye and on his ear wounds.


When a dog colony is stable, there is not a lot of severe fighting. Certain situations may require a fight, but within the colony they know each other. A bunch of new dogs in the neighborhood means fighting for spots. Once a dog has a rep as a hard biter, his adversary slows his readiness to “mix it up.” Last night dog fights punctuated the melody of the coqui frog for the first time since our return.


Given the rodent situation on the island; perhaps the poison was not intended for the dogs.


I have to believe that; Bonita’s death mustn’t sour my heart. My pain isn’t just for Bonita. Lance was a macho male by species standard, big shaggy wonderful Toby, Zorro a lady’s man into old age; I have to stop. This hurts.


Today is my day to mourn for the rat hunting party, the dogs who lived in the grass and the sentries in front of the gates.


I saw each one as special. They had a spot. They protected their neighborhood. They only asked for what scraps you could spare. They loved it if you pet them. And a little fresh water is a gift.


Good bye, my friends.

Dog Center For Rent

Hi,
Since a kid, I’ve always wanted to be around dogs.

Since 1983 people have brought their dogs to Carrvilla for help with behavior problems. I did it for free in the beginning, for the pleasure of having the opportunity to learn more about dogs.


That’s been my life.

www.carrvillak9.com is the web address. We are on a major highway in Kendall County, Illinois. It doesn’t get better than next door to the forest preserve.


The place was built by a dog lover- in floor heat, well fenced. This is a great place for dogs.


What the place needs is an enterprising dog loving entrepreneur to rent it.


This is my home, but my heart and passion have moved in with the feral dogs of Puerto Rico.


I’ve lost my passion for running this place and it breaks my heart.


A very reasonable price to take over an existing business and rent a beautiful property that was set up for dogs.


PLEASE, pass this on to the dog lovers in your life.


Thanks & God Bless!


Oh, check it out (online) don’t contact my staff and then expect to get along with me.


I welcome serious enquiries carrvilla@msn.com

Part of Decreasing Dog To Dog Aggression

Cassie taught Shaker to share his house. She became daddy’s girl instantly. Shaker wasn’t sure how to handle that, so he got closer to me.



Cassie and Shaker played well, but he soon learn that she was stronger so he had better play nice, just the lesson he needed.


Meal time became difficult for the blonde boy. Cassie invariably ran over to Shaker’s dish grabbing a mouthful before she was corrected. Shaker grumbled, but she didn’t care. This was the time she pressed her advantage with him. Until I got it across to her that raiding his dish was not allowed, he harrumphed in vain.


Before Shaker can learn to allow dogs to appease him, he has to learn to appease other dogs again plus to say when he’s had enough. It’s learning how to negotiate.


Shaker looked relieved when Cassie went to her dish after I’d correct her.


This sets the stage for what I learned next about how dogs communicate. Occasionally Cassie would leave some food in her bowl. If Shaker came near, she would growl; he’d retreat. Sometimes she’d get up and finish her meal; mostly she’d just warn him away.


On this particular day Shaker must have still been hungry. Cassie lay in the narrow spot between the kitchen and the living room separating Shaker from her dish in the hall near the kitchen.


A frustrated blonde boy paced, and then laid down for a bit staring at her or the food. Soon he let out a sigh, It sounded like a sigh of resignation, so I went back to my book. Cassie turned her head away from him.


The sigh meant he decided to risk life and limb to get that food. He was up on his toes in the stiff legged posture that says, “Watch out, my legs are stiff. You never know what can happen, when I have stiff legs.” Whoa, this display shows how serious a dog is about something.


Cassie turned her head toward the boy. It looked like he swallowed hard, but I won’t swear to it. His posture became just a little less stiff and more like a stiff legged tippy toe. She closed her eyes; walked past her and ate her food.


Shaker successfully negotiated with a stronger animal for her food. I believe that he needs to be able to do that with a stronger dog before a weaker dog will be able to negotiate with him again.


That’s what I mean when I say that he needs to regain confidence in his own language. This needs to be the purpose of reintroducing a traumatized dog to others.


Many otherwise good treatment plans fall short, if we are not clear on what we want the dog to learn by contact with this animal.


Does this make more sense or I am being as clear as mud. What do you say?

Don't Hurt Me, I'm Just a Kid

Melissa said...

Honestly before this post I was pondering the effects of male male vs. male female or female female confrontations. Made me chuckle when your thoughts went a little the same direction.

My question, do you think Shaker's original incident would have been different if a female would have been the attacker? Before the incident he treated the females much differently than the male here. He already had it worked out how far he could go with them and had a very great respect. On the other hand, with the male, because interactions were closely monitored he never was able to safely work that out. I know he had experiences with other males before wintering here. Just wonder if more of his dog education was with girls? Also in my opinion a lot of males neutered young tend to act more like bitches than dogs. Did he have much education with intact males?

I think you've mentioned his bullying is of males or females. What about his fear? Dogs he shows discomfort with? Ever female?


Unless the history of the dog indicates otherwise; I’ll always start transgender.
Shaker had been well socialized with intact males as well as those recently fixed. It wasn’t Shaker’s lack of social skills that caused the attack by the other male. If the other male had backed off when Shaker went submissive to him, we wouldn’t be discussing this. From what you told me there was nothing Shaker could have done to appease this guy.


For all of his social experience, Shaker was only a baby of ten months when he was attacked. He was a soft puppy. It takes a good two years for a dog to reach adult maturity. This includes mental maturity.


I honestly believe that if this had happened to Shaker at 2 years, he would have handled it much like Stormy has handled his attack.


In the acute phase post attack a scared and angry Shaker lashed out without thinking. Male or female did not really matter which pushed his buttons. Good management was why he didn’t injure more dogs or get hurt himself.


Some dogs get stuck in that scared reactive post trauma acute phase.

With Shaker I could sense his fear when he started back to day care.
My hope was that getting him back with his buds would trigger his old, familiar behaviors. I put him with Klondyke, a ten year old sibe. Klondyke rules the yard as my boss dog. He is everything we wanted Shaker to be. To this day Shaker has never had a problem with Klon. They ride in the car together. Isn’t that interesting?


The last dog Shaker went for in the reactive phase was Roxie, a leggy lab x great dane. She flipped him. Baby boy was on his back so fast. Each encounter teaches a dog something. He learned who not to mess with. That’s when he made the leap to chronic or bully.


In bully stage any sensed weak or vulnerable are subject to reprimand or attack. With Shaker gender didn’t seem to matter, if I’d let him he’d be one bullying little asshole. Some of the looks he’s given me, when I correct his behavior have been withering. He softens immediately, so it’s a non issue.


Since Shaker’s first day with me I have taught him but two things.


1) I like this. 2) I don’t like that.


One thing for sure is he knows I don’t like him attacking other dogs.


His fear is another long topic; let’s save that for another post.

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

What is the first thing I wanted Shaker to learn from another dog?



In her book Animals In Translation Dr. Temple Grandin impressed upon us how strong an emotion fear is.


Shaker is comfortable enough in his dysfunction that he could identify the weak to terrorize. It stands to reason that the bigger stronger dogs still scare him even if he hasn’t been attacked again.


1st Rehab step was to teach Shaker he can be safe with a big tough dog.


We needed: a female (transgender is always the better starting point) a good solid girl who likes to play hard, one who can always win but won’t.


Our last Rottweiler died of old age in 1999. I am a big fan of rotts, so I called my friend Patty at Recycled Rotts. After toying with the idea of fostering rotts for ages, this seemed like the perfect time.


A lovely girl named Cassie, who hated car rides, needed a foster home. We introduced them in the dog park. They ran and played. We all came into our yard where they played some more.


Everything went great until we walked into the house. No other dog had been in his house since his return in spring. Shaker’s signals were clear; he didn’t like her in the house.


Cassie didn’t care what Shaker thought, she was in the house. Shaker circled her on stiff legs as she investigated her new home. Suddenly she turned to face Shaker. Her hackles went up. This meant enough of your shit buddy.


I put both dogs outside to work it out. Let the whizzing begin. Cassie urinated, Shaker covered it. This went on for a bit and then they were playing again.


Time to feed the doggies, now, you know that had to be fun. Both dogs held their sits while I scooped out the food. I knew I could get Shaker to wait, so I fed Cassie first introducing her to her spot to be fed.


What the hell did she care; Cassie ran over to Shaker’s dish. Shaker’s reaction was shock and growl. Quickly I had the girl back where she belonged. The remainder of our first night went without incident.

Can Aggressive an Dog Rehabbed in Dog Language?

 

A scared traumatized dog watches other dogs for signs of threat. He analyzes every move. Soon the scared dog figures out which dogs he should be cautious with or respectful of.


Along with this observation comes the realization that other dogs are scared. Recognizing the vulnerability of others gives the scared dog an opportunity to be the strong by becoming the bully. It’s classic.


Current thought on rehabbing this problem consists of building the dog’s confidence that it is safe when with their person and to look to the person when stressed. With our repeated re-direction the dog figures out we don’t want him to do that.


Yes, that is all good. I am not going to turn this dog out with others hoping that he will look at me or I’m going to have time to redirect.


The dog may live in high stress mode waiting for the next attacker. That has nothing to do with why he’ll attack. The other dog’s vulnerability becomes the trigger.


I’ve done growl classes in which we controlled the dogs’ interactions while they were muzzled. That worked out well enough that at the end of the course the dogs were together without muzzles. This was a huge improvement, but these dogs were always going to be watched cautiously.


My experience with Stormy, a street dog in Puerto Rico has taught me that even after a life threatening attack a dog can get along with all other dogs.


It’s a matter of putting Shaker in a position where he must become better in dog language. If he is the top dog, he’ll abuse. My handsome baby boy is going to be good with other dogs again.


Shaker is being rehabbed by the dogs I am selecting to teach him what he needs to learn in the canine language.


I love this guy. I’m putting everything I know on the table to so he can get back to his life.

Understanding Dog Aggression Comments

In a previous post I said:
Watching Shaker go from happy well met to hyper-reactive was painful. Soon I noticed him having bad dreams. His eyeballs popped and darted during REM sleep. Low whimpering became pathetic sobs. His feet paddled the air.

It’s interesting to note that the first forty-five minutes of day care Shaker is joyously running with his buds like old times. When the edge of needing the exercise is softened, he begins to look around to as if to see who could do him harm.


Cheryl said: I did find a number of things on canine PTSD, but we’re talking about war, abused or Katrina victims, not a well adjusted puppy who was attacked. Now most of the dogs are spooky, but some articles talked about the aggressive aspect.

http://www.whole-dog-journal.com/issues/9_5/features/Canine_Aggression_Socialization_15805-1.html?zkPrintable=true

http://canineaggression.blogspot.com/2008/01/canine-ptsd-in-disaster-and-war.html (Katrina and war dogs PTSD)

In a book Tao of Equus, the author talks about PTSD as a result of how our neurological system protects us from right before that moment of sudden death. She believes what happens in a near death or we think we are situation, but live, that device doesn’t reset to “normal” and the switch is always on. Unconsciously the brain is on guard for the final blow and we’re ready to react. Epona Equestrian Services, founded by author Linda Kohanov, has become an internationally-recognized innovator in the field of Equine Experiential Learning www.taoofequus.com. She uses abused horses in her work with dysfunctional non-horse clients.


I was confused going from PTSD to bullying. You are saying it’s part of the PTSD issue, right? (see the whole-dog journal). Is he really doubting his language skills or is the switch “on?” Is this learned response that feels comfortable and he’s afraid to loose? Normal to him could be scary?


“Language skills” was throwing me for a loop. I think it goes deeper. From the above Tao reference, I think he saw death.


Regarding issues of not socializing animals:

Blazing Prairie Stars, provider of equine assisted therapy, newsletter.
Snickers is a new herd member at BPS. She is trying very hard to make new horse friends as she assimilates into the herd, but she has some social skills challenges. Because Snickers did not have much opportunity to play with other horses in a herd, she has very little experience. This is upsetting to Snickers. She has been learning how to read nonverbal cues from her herd mates. She has been learning how to fit in the social order and how to respond to the leader. She has been learning how to approach the other horses appropriately. She has been learning about horse personal space.

Cheryl


I think your treatment plan is brilliant. I think the problem lies in his own insecurity. If he can gain enough confidence back in his own language he should overcome the fear that drives his bullying. I do also think the bullying behavior must be stopped or better yet prevented from happening as described in the first article. Once a behavior gets patterned it is definitely harder to change. You are in a very unique position with your access to other dogs for play groups and your extensive knowledge of their personalities. Definitely not something you could work through at the neighborhood dog park. I am putting a lot more focus on my baby's (Pystol) canine education. I am lucky to have 3 puppies about her age that she plays with frequently, my own girls, and a group of older dogs that are safe for her to interact with (two male huskies, a lab, and a gaggle of border collies) My girls are pretty good at "dog" but Pystol is becoming even better. Although she really knows how to be a pest and seems to know which dogs she can get away with her favorite pesky behavior and which she better just not try it with. She thoroughly enjoys attaching herself to the big dogs chest hair and just holding on. Anyway, I was inspired to invest more effort into this part of her education and am looking forward to seeing how it influences her throughout our journey.


Melissa

Understanding Dog Aggression

Not every dog who gets attacked by another will end up being an abuser. Why do some dogs get past the incident and others become abusers?



Last year Stormy, one of the street dogs living in my neighborhood in Puerto Rico, was attacked and almost killed. The most obvious change in his behavior is a perpetually low tail carriage. His relationship with other dogs in the neighborhood is pretty much the same as before.


Last year Shaker, the shining star of my day care, was attacked. He became an abuser; why?


Shaker was less than a year old at the time of the attack. He gave his attacker signals that he didn’t want a fight, he was sorry. The attack continued. In the aftermath the young dog doubted his language skills. If I go belly up licking my lips to say I’m sorry, the other dog is supposed to forgive me and not hurt me.


When we are young and naïve, we think that everybody plays by the rules. Youngsters are just learning the rules. Shaker’s attacker violated the rules as Shaker thought he knew them. Think that our behavior controls the behavior of others more than it does is like little kids thinking.


This causes the reactive or acute phase of dysfunction. The dog is scared, doesn’t know what the rules are any more. This is when the dog will lash out unpredictably.


If this makes sense so far, we’ll discuss the chronic phase in which the abused becomes the abuser. Thanks, Cheryl, for telling me you didn’t understand. Any questions?

How Does A Dog Become a Bully?

The worse thing about what happened to Shaker wasn’t that he got beat up, but that it happened before he was old enough to be certain about what he knew. It caused him to doubt what he knew about his language.



Let’s say you get mad at me, I say that I’m sorry. If I am just learning the language, I think that I have not said the right thing to appease you. I doubt my language skills.


This is different from I know what I said; you were a jerk and didn’t accept my apology.


Shaker was scared and angry. We never knew what was going to set him off in the early reactive phase.


Because Shaker did have a lot of experience with other dogs it didn’t take he long to progress beyond the reactive phase to becoming comfortable in his dysfunction.


A dog is comfortable in his dysfunction when he knows which dogs are not to be messed with. He no longer gets ticked at dogs which can and will kick his rear, only a dog in the reactive phase does that.


In true bully fashion the weak, insecure or inexperienced are sniffed out. Zeroing in to terrorize is just a matter of personal style.


So Shaker is now confident in his dysfunction and his language. He is no longer my innocent pet; he knows the law of the wild. Okay, so life is hard time to get over it.


The two distinct post incident phases require different treatment plans. Does this make sense? Any questions?

Canine Post Traumatic Stress

Watching Shaker go from happy well met to hyper-reactive was painful. Soon I noticed him having bad dreams. His eyeballs popped and darted during REM sleep. Low whimpering became pathetic sobs. His feet paddled the air.



I couldn’t take it. I’d wake him, then thump him and play with him. We’d end up snuggling on the sofa together.


My way of seeing this is that a dog who is attacked by another has had his innocence taken. It comes as a big shock when some surly presence crosses the line beating the snot out of you. Could it be possible to hurt more than this? In that moment the world becomes a monstrously scary place.


Shaker has been well socialized from birth on, when he started acting out, I hoped that his social experience would out weight the effects of the trauma. We put him with select dogs he knew since he first began day care. I worked with my staff to get better at recognizing body language and redirecting. Paula is getting exceptionally good.


My staff is good, but they are not behaviorists, so Shaker was removed from day care, except for certain groups and only with Paula.


It’s interesting to note that the first forty-five minutes Shaker is joyously running with his buds like old times. When the edge of needing the exercise is softened, he begins to look around to as if to see who could do him harm. It is at that point that we are bringing him back in.


The safety of the day care dogs trumps Shaker’s rehab so we’re pursuing other options.

Blonde Boy Comes Home

Shaker’s physical wounds were mostly healed, when he came back home with us. He raced around the yard at top speed doing his dare devil routine. The long graceful strides, the happy faces; it was worth the trip to Michigan on our second day back from Puerto Rico.

The first week home Shaker went everywhere with us. It was good to have the sweet boy back. Each morning the day care dogs get loud before the first run in our three acre dog park. Shaker wanted to run with the day care dogs. He did some meet & greets with old friends from here. All seemed normal. His first few days back at day care were like old tmes or so it seemed.


Shaker was in the office with Lily, a five month old sassy aussie. It was early in the day. She was full of in your face energy.  Shaker corrected her lack of manners swiftly with a fierce growl. He pinned her. It scared Lily.


When an older dog corrects a youngster by pinning and growling without biting; it’s a good thing. Lily had been a little wild, so she had been told. I didn’t like the ferocity of the growl.


A couple of weeks later Shaker got into it with a recently neutered Portuguese Water Dog. The other boy ended up with a puncture wound. The attendant didn’t see it start. Neither dog had a history of fighting in day care.


Shaker got into a couple of spats with dogs, the canine equivalent of bad words spoken. It was like he was angry. Staff began to watch him carefully.

I worked with my staff to teach them to read the body language signals better and to redirect faster. Shaker was such a good dog. I couldn’t believe that the one bad incident could re-write his behavior.