Tag: agggressive behavior in dogs

Good Days and Tad Days

Michael Baugh CPDT-KA, CDBC

Seriously, most of my days are good days.  My best days are Tad days.

It takes me a little more than an hour to get to the clinic where Tiffany and Tad work. On the way I think about Tad, how much he’s improved, and the work we still need to do.  I also sing along (a bit too loudly) to some of my favorite music, but that’s off the subject.

The truth is Tad is improving – a lot.  I walked into the treatment area of the clinic unannounced and he didn’t make as much as a peep.  Tiffany says he’s not barking very much at all when he’s in that area looking out into the lobby.  He doesn’t bark at all anymore when the front door chime rings; and he greets people nicely in the lobby.

We focused this visit on teaching Tad some manners in the treatment area (go to your spot and stay).  We also addressed his habit of biting for attention during play.  Play biting isn’t the same as emotionally driven fear biting or so-called aggressive biting.  Still, it hurts just the same.  I was pleased when Tad and I played a bit and he didn’t bite me.  I was equally chagrined when he gave Tiffany a few good chomps.

For dogs, the function of bites that are rooted in fear or aggression are all about making something stop or go away.  The function of play bites is to get something going.  The motivation is totally different.  How do we stop it?  First, we teach Tad how to control his play.  Good dog play includes pauses, short breaks.  Watch dogs at play and you’ll see them stop and start often.  That’s the polite way to play.  So we’re teaching Tad how to start play with humans (when we prompt it) and how to “settle,” which means sit and take a short break.  The idea is to keep these training sessions short so Tad doesn’t get excited enough to bite.  If he bites and ignores the “settle” cue, he gets a “too bad” and a time out.  For a social animal like Tad, nothing could be worse than losing a round of play for a trip to the penalty box.  That’s how he’s going to learn to watch his mouth.

Tad uses his teeth a lot playing with dogs too.  That got me wondering about the great mystery of his past.  A lot of play biters were single puppies, or puppies removed from the litter too early (prior to 7 weeks of age).  Was Tad an only child?  Did he loose his siblings too early?  Puppies are good about teaching their littermates to mind their mouthy manners. I get the sense Tad missed out on this learning.

Dogs can’t tell their own stories.  We’re left to wonder, what was Tad’s life like before Tiffany found him, skinny and sick, lost and forgotten?  So much of his behavior tells us he lived with people.  Who were they?  Did they send him away or just let him wander off?  Was it because of the biting?  Do they think about him?  Do they miss him?

I think about that on my way home, south on I-45 toward Houston, almost 6 months to the day from when Tiffany found Tad.  I don’t know, but I believe dogs draw from a deep well of forgiveness.  I like to think Tad’s moved on and doesn’t dwell on the hurt of past offenses the way we humans do.  There’s lots to learn from all this.  The thing is it’s hard to tell sometimes who’s doing the learning and who’s doing the teaching.

It’s a hot Fall day in southeast Texas and there are plump promising rain clouds on the horizon.  Tad’s improving, and it’s already better than a good day.  Time to turn up the music and sing.

In Tad We Trust

Michael Baugh CPDT-KA, CDBC

I get to see Tad again tomorrow, and the anticipation has had me thinking about the brilliant truth of teaching and learning.

Given the right set of circumstances, a learner will tend toward making the right decision.  Scientifically that means if we set up the environment correctly our student will succeed.  That includes both environmental cues and pleasant consequences for the learner.  So much for the nerdy part.  Here’s the softer part.  All of my students really are working toward success; it’s the natural tendency of progress.

A perfect learning relationship

There isn’t anything inside Tad that predestines him to behave poorly.  There’s no internal badness in dogs that we humans have to break or dominate.  Dogs, like all other learners are naturally (meaning it’s in their nature) built to discover the easiest right choices for behavior, and to act on them.  In fact, even “bad” behavior is at the time the perceived right choice for the dog.  Our job as teachers is simply to clear the path, make the choices we prefer more obvious, and reinforce those correct choices joyfully.  That’s teaching.

I always trust my client dogs to find and make the right choice.  If they don’t, I look at myself first to make adjustments.  I never look inside the dog for sinister intentions with flimsy labels like stubbornness or jealousy.  What can I change in this student’s environment to make it easier for him to make a correct behavior choice?  When he makes that correct choice, how can I tell him he got it right so that he makes that choice again in the future?  I joke that dog teaching isn’t a religion it’s a science.  Still, it takes a whole lot of faith to ask those questions, trust the dog, and trust the process.

I smile every time I remember that humans can be trusted too.  When we talk about a learner’s environment, we’re really talking about relationships.  A supportive, empathetic relationship between a teacher and a learner (and really we’re all co-learners) sets the client up to succeed, every time, without exception.  I nod respectfully to the late Carl Rogers who brought this knowledge to us.  Humans are naturally built (meaning it’s in their nature) to ascend to the highest level of success possible, given the right environment and relationships.  Abraham Maslow called that “self actualization,” and all of us are on the path.  My path as a teacher and a learner fills me with faith every day.  I trust the people I teach, and the dogs they teach in turn.  I learn from them too.  Certainly, it’s not always easy.  Tiffany will tell you that, as will Tad in his own way.  Still, we travel on together, clearing the path for our better selves, applying the science with abiding faith.

The Tadlands

Michael Baugh CPDT-KA, CDBC

The clinic where Tiffany works and Tad hangs out is much nicer even than it looks in pictures.  There’s a pleasant chime that sounds when the front door opens.  I was pleased as I walked in that I didn’t hear Tad barking.  Tiffany greeted me in the lobby and asked me how I wanted to meet Tad this time.  “Just let him out,” I said, and around the corner he came.  Tad ran up to me like we were old friends.  I couldn’t have wished for a better start to my day.

Behavior science is the language we use to communicate with the non-human animals in our lives.  Don’t worry; I’m not going to geek out on science again.  During our visit we taught Tad to sit and focus, and how to say “hi” to visitors, and how to lie down and chill out with his Uncle Michael, and how to stand calmly at the baby gate and watch people.  All that is grounded in sound behavior science.  It’s also good communication.  If we can change our behavior a bit, and Tad changes his in kind, then we are definitely communicating.   And the cliché is true – good communication builds good relationships.

Tad hanging out with me in the lobby

There’s little doubt that Tad and Tiffany have forged a powerful bond.  They are learning to communicate at a much different level now, and they are making progress together.  It’s cool to watch and I count myself incredibly lucky to not only be witness to it, but deeply involved in the process.  We all know how easy and wonderfully alluring it is to fall in love with Tad online.  It is something altogether different to be with him in person.  For just a few seconds Tad tucked his head into my arms and pressed his forehead against my chest.  I scratched him behind the ears and kissed the top of his head.  No one said a word.  Then we all got back to the work at hand.  The moment had passed, but it was sacred nonetheless.

Tad didn’t bark once, or growl or lunge the entire time I was there.  I’ve actually never seen him behave that way, and that’s the way it should be.  Tiffany tells me he’s doing those things less, and not at all when the front door chimes.  We’re changing his life, and changing his behavior.  We’re creating opportunities for him to succeed, and relishing in that success with him.  There’s no need to set him up to bark and growl and lunge so we can tell him he’s bad.  He was never bad, just afraid.  Of course, all that is changing now.  There’s no need to be afraid anymore.  We even have a plan in the works to curb his play biting (most of his bites were attention-seeking).  I hesitate to make any predictions, but Tad is improving.  I’m hopeful he will continue to do so.  Very hopeful.

I don’t like goodbyes so I didn’t make a fuss over Tad when I left.  I’d stayed longer than expected, and I would have stayed longer still if there had been time.  I headed south toward Houston and remembered Tad pressing his head against me.  It made me smile and remember why it is I do this work.  Before long I’ll be back in The Tadlands, at the smartly appointed clinic, stealing a moment with the rag-tag dog no one wanted.  When did I first notice he was stealing my heart?