This is my dog, Finn. He pops up frequently on my various blogs and social media accounts as a) he’s gorgeous, and b) he is the inspiration behind what I do. He is a fearful and anxious boy, who is reactive to other dogs, to people he doesn’t know, and to wildlife and livestock.
This is perhaps a slightly more technical article than many I post but it's an important one, considering as it does the connection between training methods and welfare.
Despite the efforts of many canine professionals and
widening body of scientific evidence, aversive training techniques remain in
use. Discussions surrounding the use of these tools are often acrimonious and
highly divisive. Supporters insist some dogs need them, some breeds apparently
too stubborn or high drive for management any other way. Reward-based training is
denigrated as ‘cookie-pushing’ or permissiveness, allowing the dog to be in
charge, when what dogs ‘need’ is to know their pack leader. This is despite the
fact alpha theory is outdated, based on observations from the 1940s now
recognised as flawed.
Using aversive techniques carries significant risks to the physical health and well-being of dogs, and the human-canine relationship. By definition, aversive methods are things dogs actively try to avoid. They find them unpleasant, painful, or scary, and want to reduce the likelihood of encountering that stimulus again. This raises serious ethical questions. In addition, if we are causing distress or pain to dogs, what effect will that have on their view of us?
Enrichment is a word that is coming into ever wider usage in the dog world. Adding enrichment into the lives of our dogs means adding value and enjoyment to their days, letting them carry out normal and natural dog behaviours.
One of the most important techniques available to us, particularly when working with fearful and reactive dogs is counterconditioning. Doing it correctly means the dog’s response to the thing that is worrying them changes from a negative reaction to a positive one. Doing it incorrectly will either not improve the situation or could even make the situation more complicated.
If you have added a puppy to your family at any point in the last few years, the chances are that you have seen something like a ‘socialisation checklist’. A whole collection of different objects and long lists of types of people guardians must introduce puppies to as soon as possible, beginning immediately on getting them home. However, does sticking to these types of lists guarantee that a puppy will grow up to be a well-adjusted and well ‘socialised’ adult dog? To consider this question we must start by asking another.
I have never been a believer in sharing only the good when talking about life with my dogs, my complex and sensitive ‘reactive’ boy most of all. He has been doing really well in the last few months, and I probably shouldn’t be surprised that we ended up having one of ‘those’ walks last week.
‘Those’ walks can happen to all of us, no matter how knowledgeable and experienced we may be. We can do our best to avoid getting close to triggers but, in all honesty, as soon as we step out into the wider world, there are factors that are beyond our control. This happened to us the other day, and resulted in Finn having a mini meltdown.
I was reading a post the other day on empathy and consideration in dog training, following the growing movement towards recognising and acknowledging the emotional capacity and experience of dogs. I’ll admit it is something I have become passionate about myself, especially since encountering a dog who has such a need for the people around him to understand how he is feeling in any given situation. This particular dog’s needs have set me to learning how best to support and work with dogs, and discovering the ways that give dogs the best and kindest experience of life with us.
We see posts from time to time (ok, far too often in reality) from the ‘balanced’ trainers, the ‘pack leader’ and ‘alpha’ theory followers. These trainers frequently say things about humans needing to be the boss in the household or their dogs are going to dominate them. They make glib comments about using ‘all the tools’ available to them and that their methods work, and work fast.
But do they? Do they really?
Recently I was watching a panel discussion broadcast from a number of speakers at one of the big dog behaviour conferences (in this case the Lemonade conference). This was one of the free broadcasts put out over the length of the conference, and the topic was the future of R+ training.
It was an interesting discussion, with the participants describing their journeys into reward-based training. Like many trainers and dog pros, including me, two of the speakers described their path as ‘crossover’ trainers, from the older compulsion-based methods. One of the speakers in particular said a couple of things that really hit home with me. They have had me thinking, not so much about the future of training, but the future of our relationships with our dogs.
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| The splodgy one supervising me working as a cheerful start |
‘Arrogance and ignorance go hand in hand.’ Metallica, Holier Than Thou.
I’m going to be tackling a topic that many people can find difficult here, and it can be a real taboo topic in many places. It’s a subject that has become intensely personal to me since I encountered this situation for the first time last year. Today I want to talk about rehoming.
Every dog that has entered my life has stayed with me for life – or in the case of one working dog we had when we left the farm went to live and work on another farm with a relative, as she really loved to work. Until the one that didn’t.
