Naturally, I don't really believe I'm an awesome dog trainer. I'm a slightly above-average dog trainer, most of the time. Today, I was a sucky, lousy dog trainer. Neither one of my dogs would perform worth anything in class, and I couldn't seem to do anything to make it better.
Hilda started off with her nose planted in the grass and basically stayed that way throughout the entire course. She acted like she had never heard of front, or finish. She put on the brakes and planted her feet when I called her to come. She was obsessed by a little rolling cart that held two little Papillons in crates. (A Papillon, if you don't know, is an adorable toy breed -- tiny, fluffy, with relatively giant stand-up ears -- and is one of the few toy breeds known for doing well in competition obedience. These two Papillons are inexplicably owned by a tall, macho man who comes to class every week carting his two cute, well-trained lap dogs. Like I said, a mystery.)
I had chicken for my treats today, which is, like, an A-level treat. Hilda loves chicken, but she wouldn't do a darn thing for it today. Sit? No thanks. Down? Never heard of it. I snugged her buckle collar up under her chin, right up against the base of her throat, trying to stir a dim memory of having her air cut off with the choke chain back at Seeing Eye 7 years ago. Didn't work. I wished for a choke chain. Or a pinch collar, something that would make her obey. She was too interested in sniffing the grass and staring at other dogs and panting like it was 100 degrees instead of the lovely 73 that it actually was. I took her to the water fountain and let her play in it, thinking she needed a break. Then I let her lie down in the shade. Then I took her back to the rally course again and started to run through it with the same lousy results. My instructor, Kit, called my name and I thought he was going to make a comment on how my dog was completely on another planet and looked just like all the other half-trained dogs in this class. Instead he said he was going to be tough on me because I was so good, and then pointed out that I had made my last right turn in a sort of swooping arc instead of a neat, military 90-degree turn that the judges like to see. I nodded seriously and agreed to do better next time, and then walked Hilda off the course and back to the car and threw her in the back. You don't want to work? Fine. I will grant you your wish even though only 20 minutes of our hour-long class has gone by.
I sat in the car and read until it was time for Sunny's class to start. Sunny started out badly by refusing to stay in the car until called out. He leaped out on his own again and again and again, and I threw him back in again and again and again until finally he remembered how to wait for a release. Then I spent the time on our walk over to our class reminding him where Heel position was. He seemed to think it was either lunging in front of me, or else lagging behind with his nose planted in the grass. (What did they do to the grass this weekend? Geez.)
When we finally got to class, I knew I did not want to be there. The guy with the Aussie that everyone hates (ahem, everyone hates the guy, not the Aussie -- the Aussie is a hideous example of the breed, has no confidence, and is in poor condition to boot, but that's no reason to hate him) was standing on the other side of the field blabbing away to someone in another class. "Hmmph, we're not waiting for him," said my instructor, Pat. Pat is about seventy years old. There is only one way to train for her, and it does not involve food or a clicker. I use both anyway and don't care what she says.
Pat introduced the new students in the class -- a woman with a Swedish Vallhund (looks kind of like a Welsh Corgi, but smaller and mostly grey) and a woman with a gorgeous golden. Even though the golden looked gorgeous, he quickly proved to be an airhead. I sincerely hope he is just young and foolish and not untrained, otherwise his owner should be ashamed to have him in this class. He had no self-control and kept breaking stays, running around, and making a nuisance of himself. The guy with the Irish setter wandered in late, looking dazed and confused like always. Irish setters have a reputation for being dumb. I don't know who's dumber, this Irish setter or her owner. Both of them are always hopelessly behind in whatever exercise we're doing. The only one I truly like in this class is Hilde, who is in her 70's (probably) and walks with a cane and a horrendous limp, yet somehow manages to handle a 100-lb. adolescent Akita with a whopping dog distraction. She's been showing dogs in obedience since the 1960's. I always learn something from her.
We started with Heel. Sunny alternately lagged and forged. He forgot Auto-Sit and gave me Auto-Down instead. Pat argued with her assistant instructor, Nancy, over whether Sunny was sitting in Heel position or not. (Pat said no, Nancy said yes. Nancy gave me one of my Rally-N perfect scores, so she is predisposed to like me and Sunny.) They were arguing over mere centimeters so I gave up listening, watched the birds fly overhead, and absentmindedly fed Sunny piece after piece of chicken for no reason. Clearly I was not in the mood to train dogs and should have just gone home.
Sunny managed to hold a 5-minute down stay during the group down. The guy with the Aussie had finally joined us in class and his dog popped up again and again on the down-stay and began ambling slowly over to his owner, who ambled equally slowly using his cane across the grass expanse separating dogs and handlers. Each time the Aussie got up, the guy reprimanded him with an annoying "Tch-tch" sound. Finally Nancy told him she would correct the dog and he should stay where he was. The dog got up again and again, and Nancy popped him down again and again. The dog got this wild-eyed look at being handled by someone other than his owner. Finally he stayed down for a few seconds and Pat said, "Exercise finished!"
I was proud that Sunny did not break, but on the next exercise, the long sit (3 minutes), Pat made the dogs sit in the sun and Sunny decided to lie down and take a nap. I went back and corrected him, and he lasted one more minute -- almost until the stay was done -- and then the golden got up and went racing around and Sunny got up and started walking slowly towards me, looking a little too much like that other Aussie for my liking. So naturally I had to correct him again, which made him upset.
The class worked on the dumbbell next, at which point I had to fess up to the problems we're having with the dumbbell at home (he won't hold it or put it in my hand -- some pretty major problems). I am sure Pat blames the dumbbell problems on the fact that I train with food and the clicker. I can practically hear her thinking, "Nothing a good ear-pinch wouldn't cure." I didn't even bring my dumbbell to class, so I just practiced a down-stay while the rest of the class worked on the dumbbell. I was pleased to see that all of their dogs were just as bad as mine at holding it, though.
So my dogs were lousy and my attitude was even worse. I could feel bad about it, but instead I will remind myself that all dogs and all trainers have bad days and that, even though my dogs couldn't perform worth a damn today, I have a dog at home that can fetch me a beer out of the fridge when asked, and I bet no one else does.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Training Different Personalities
I train all three dogs every day. (Well, almost every day; nobody's perfect.) It's a lot like my work of teaching blind people how to get around, in the sense that every one is an individual with an individual learning style, and when I go from one to the next, I have to "switch gears" mentally.
Hilda is my crossover dog. For anyone reading this who's not familiar with clicker training terminology, a crossover dog is one that was first trained the "traditional" way (i.e., compulsion-based as opposed to reward-based). She's been leash-popped, "high-collared", strung up by the choke chain until she couldn't breathe, et cetera. (This was all long in the past, people; don't judge me.) Hilda is pretty tough mentally and could handle that kind of training. She was a fast-learning, accurate, serious worker during her brief career as a Seeing Eye dog. When we moved to Arizona, I started reading up on clicker training and decided to introduce Hilda to it too. She loved it, of course. (Why? because the clicker makes training FUN for dogs! What a concept!) But I can't help noticing the difference between Hilda working for the clicker and Hilda working to avoid correction. She is not serious at all with the clicker. She gets impatient and barks at me if she's not getting clicked enough. She tries her other tricks if she's not sure what I want. (That's called "throwing behaviors" in clicker-speak, and is something else I really don't like about clicker training. I have to say I miss the serious focus I used to get on dogs who were very anxious to avoid being corrected.) Hilda likes anything that involves big, fast movement (retrieving the dumbbell, running around a pole and back to me, jumping), and dislikes anything that involves shaping very small, precise movements or positions (staying within three inches of my leg when walking on a leash instead of her preferred six inches, learning to put her paw on her muzzle for the "I'm So Embarrassed" trick rather than putting her paw out like she does in the "Shake" command). If she doesn't "get it" quickly, she gets stressed and starts panting. Actually she can't work for very long no matter what we're working on. In our hour-long Rally-O class, I work for ten minutes, then take a ten-minute break, and repeat until class is done. I thought about competing in obedience with her, too, but then decided I don't have the time or inclination to fix her problems (heeling too wide, sitting out of position, et cetera). So I decided she can just learn tricks and that will be it for her. (Though I'm quite sure we could fake our way through a rally novice course, if necessary.)
Sunny has been all-clicker since puppyhood. He's never had a correction -- never needed one. He's so soft that if I frown at him it makes him nervous and he leaves. If I praise him too excitedly it also makes him nervous. So we stick to just the "click" to tell him what's right and what's wrong, and that works perfectly. He's the opposite of Hilda in that he needs to learn every tiny step before moving on to the next tiny step. He's the type who, if he doesn't get it exactly right, he will get stressed and quit. If he were a person, he would be the kind of person who would try something for the first time and then say sadly, "I guess I'm not any good at this," and never play again. Thank GOD for the clicker, or I don't know how I would have trained him. Once he gets something right, it's in his head forever, and he will never do it incorrectly no matter what's going on around him. But it's so easy to screw him up. (Another thing about the clicker: it's so precise that you can inadvertently create a behavior you don't want. For example, when he was little and I was teaching him to stay off furniture, I thought I was getting the behavior I wanted by clicking and treating when I said "Off" and he jumped off. Little did I know that he had also associated the jumping on the furniture with the "Off" command and the click and treat. So I had accidentally made a behavior chain that went Jump on the Furniture-Hear "Off" Command-Obey "Off" Command-Get Treat. I don't remember how I fixed that, but I do know that he doesn't get on furniture unless invited up now.) I just created another accidental chain with the retrieve. I had him nicely picking up the dumbbell off the ground and looking at me to get the click. The next step was to get him to release the dumbbell into my hand. Little did I know I had accidentally built in a "back up one step" to the behavior of picking up the dumbbell. Now when I put out my hand he backed up one step and dropped the dumbbell and never, ever dropped it in my hand. If I moved towards him, he backed up faster, thinking he was wrong. I finally stood him in a corner with his butt to the wall and moved my hand so the dumbbell landed in it a couple hundred times. Finally he made the connection and moved his head to drop the dumbbell in my hand. I clicked that another couple hundred times, still with him in a corner with his butt against the wall, and finally moved outside where he wasn't in a corner. I brought out my best treats and, thank God, the behavior held. Only a few more steps and we will have a bona fide retrieve. It's a real pain in the ass to get there but I know that once we do, I will have a totally solid retrieve that will never fall apart.
Sunny also has a much longer attention span than Hilda for training, and he is serious and focused in a way that she is not. He really likes to get it right. Hilda just likes to have a good time, unless the threat of a correction is involved, in which case she is really motivated to get it right too.
Zsiga is, of course, all-clicker too. (Although he's tough and sound enough that I bet he will be corrected at some point in the future, when he becomes huge and strong and loses his brain in adolescence.) He loves to train and never seems to get tired of it. He can work through hundreds of treats in one sitting and is just as enthusiastic at the end as he is at the beginning. He will work for his own dry kibble with no problem. (Hilda and Sunny will accept kibble, but only if it's in a bag mixed up with hot dogs or chicken or cheese or something else to give it flavor.) I love training puppies! They are total sponges for learning, with no baggage yet to slow down their training. Zsiga is up for training anything, any time. He is totally focused on whoever controls the clicker, and has, I think, a remarkable level of self-control for three months old. I can tell him "Leave It" and throw a handful of food on the floor all around him and he will just look at me and wait for the "Okay" before he eats it. He knows that he has to Sit or Down while I'm getting his meal, and if he gets up before I say he can, his food bowl goes away for a few minutes until he feels like being more obedient. He knows that if he wants to go through a door, the easiest way to make it open is to sit and wait until someone says "Okay", and that barging through it is a waste of time. He doesn't get everything right on the first try, but he applies himself 100%, and that is a wonderful quality in a dog.
I love that my three dogs are so different. It keeps things interesting. I can't wait to see how my new Aussie puppy Annie learns things. Just a month left to wait!
Hilda is my crossover dog. For anyone reading this who's not familiar with clicker training terminology, a crossover dog is one that was first trained the "traditional" way (i.e., compulsion-based as opposed to reward-based). She's been leash-popped, "high-collared", strung up by the choke chain until she couldn't breathe, et cetera. (This was all long in the past, people; don't judge me.) Hilda is pretty tough mentally and could handle that kind of training. She was a fast-learning, accurate, serious worker during her brief career as a Seeing Eye dog. When we moved to Arizona, I started reading up on clicker training and decided to introduce Hilda to it too. She loved it, of course. (Why? because the clicker makes training FUN for dogs! What a concept!) But I can't help noticing the difference between Hilda working for the clicker and Hilda working to avoid correction. She is not serious at all with the clicker. She gets impatient and barks at me if she's not getting clicked enough. She tries her other tricks if she's not sure what I want. (That's called "throwing behaviors" in clicker-speak, and is something else I really don't like about clicker training. I have to say I miss the serious focus I used to get on dogs who were very anxious to avoid being corrected.) Hilda likes anything that involves big, fast movement (retrieving the dumbbell, running around a pole and back to me, jumping), and dislikes anything that involves shaping very small, precise movements or positions (staying within three inches of my leg when walking on a leash instead of her preferred six inches, learning to put her paw on her muzzle for the "I'm So Embarrassed" trick rather than putting her paw out like she does in the "Shake" command). If she doesn't "get it" quickly, she gets stressed and starts panting. Actually she can't work for very long no matter what we're working on. In our hour-long Rally-O class, I work for ten minutes, then take a ten-minute break, and repeat until class is done. I thought about competing in obedience with her, too, but then decided I don't have the time or inclination to fix her problems (heeling too wide, sitting out of position, et cetera). So I decided she can just learn tricks and that will be it for her. (Though I'm quite sure we could fake our way through a rally novice course, if necessary.)
Sunny has been all-clicker since puppyhood. He's never had a correction -- never needed one. He's so soft that if I frown at him it makes him nervous and he leaves. If I praise him too excitedly it also makes him nervous. So we stick to just the "click" to tell him what's right and what's wrong, and that works perfectly. He's the opposite of Hilda in that he needs to learn every tiny step before moving on to the next tiny step. He's the type who, if he doesn't get it exactly right, he will get stressed and quit. If he were a person, he would be the kind of person who would try something for the first time and then say sadly, "I guess I'm not any good at this," and never play again. Thank GOD for the clicker, or I don't know how I would have trained him. Once he gets something right, it's in his head forever, and he will never do it incorrectly no matter what's going on around him. But it's so easy to screw him up. (Another thing about the clicker: it's so precise that you can inadvertently create a behavior you don't want. For example, when he was little and I was teaching him to stay off furniture, I thought I was getting the behavior I wanted by clicking and treating when I said "Off" and he jumped off. Little did I know that he had also associated the jumping on the furniture with the "Off" command and the click and treat. So I had accidentally made a behavior chain that went Jump on the Furniture-Hear "Off" Command-Obey "Off" Command-Get Treat. I don't remember how I fixed that, but I do know that he doesn't get on furniture unless invited up now.) I just created another accidental chain with the retrieve. I had him nicely picking up the dumbbell off the ground and looking at me to get the click. The next step was to get him to release the dumbbell into my hand. Little did I know I had accidentally built in a "back up one step" to the behavior of picking up the dumbbell. Now when I put out my hand he backed up one step and dropped the dumbbell and never, ever dropped it in my hand. If I moved towards him, he backed up faster, thinking he was wrong. I finally stood him in a corner with his butt to the wall and moved my hand so the dumbbell landed in it a couple hundred times. Finally he made the connection and moved his head to drop the dumbbell in my hand. I clicked that another couple hundred times, still with him in a corner with his butt against the wall, and finally moved outside where he wasn't in a corner. I brought out my best treats and, thank God, the behavior held. Only a few more steps and we will have a bona fide retrieve. It's a real pain in the ass to get there but I know that once we do, I will have a totally solid retrieve that will never fall apart.
Sunny also has a much longer attention span than Hilda for training, and he is serious and focused in a way that she is not. He really likes to get it right. Hilda just likes to have a good time, unless the threat of a correction is involved, in which case she is really motivated to get it right too.
Zsiga is, of course, all-clicker too. (Although he's tough and sound enough that I bet he will be corrected at some point in the future, when he becomes huge and strong and loses his brain in adolescence.) He loves to train and never seems to get tired of it. He can work through hundreds of treats in one sitting and is just as enthusiastic at the end as he is at the beginning. He will work for his own dry kibble with no problem. (Hilda and Sunny will accept kibble, but only if it's in a bag mixed up with hot dogs or chicken or cheese or something else to give it flavor.) I love training puppies! They are total sponges for learning, with no baggage yet to slow down their training. Zsiga is up for training anything, any time. He is totally focused on whoever controls the clicker, and has, I think, a remarkable level of self-control for three months old. I can tell him "Leave It" and throw a handful of food on the floor all around him and he will just look at me and wait for the "Okay" before he eats it. He knows that he has to Sit or Down while I'm getting his meal, and if he gets up before I say he can, his food bowl goes away for a few minutes until he feels like being more obedient. He knows that if he wants to go through a door, the easiest way to make it open is to sit and wait until someone says "Okay", and that barging through it is a waste of time. He doesn't get everything right on the first try, but he applies himself 100%, and that is a wonderful quality in a dog.
I love that my three dogs are so different. It keeps things interesting. I can't wait to see how my new Aussie puppy Annie learns things. Just a month left to wait!
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Puppy Love vs. Puppy Fever
Puppy Love is what I have for Zsiga. I love everything about his puppiness. I love his flopped-over ear and his awkwardness and his curiosity about how the world works and what the rules are and even the fact that he doesn't seem to know that he has hind legs, let alone know how to use them to jump up on furniture and things like that. (I know that soon enough he will be a huge, gangly adolescent and our problem will be keeping him OFF furniture, which is why I'm enjoying these early days so much.) I even love his sharkiness. That's how we refer to his enthusiastic use of his sharp little teeth on everything. I don't mind getting up in the middle of the night when he has to pee. In fact, over the years of raising puppy after puppy, I have somehow come to love those middle-of-the-night excursions to the backyard -- me half-asleep, enjoying the rare quiet in my neighborhood and looking up at the stars while the puppy sniffs around looking for the perfect spot. Somehow it is always winter when I have a brand-new puppy, and always cold, although, this being Arizona, it is never cold enough even at 2 a.m. that I have to put a jacket on. I love it when he's done peeing (and lets me know he is by starting to chomp on mesquite pods instead of sniffing around looking for the perfect spot) and I get to go back into my ever-so-soft and warm bed and put Zsiga back in his crate and snuggle up next to Tim for a few more hours of sleep.
I love training him, too. He is so smart, so alert, so responsive, and so willing to do what I ask. He is a little sponge. He already knows "Sit", "Down", his name, "Leave It", "Touch", and he's well on his way to learning "Stay". He is extremely food-motivated -- so nice to see in a shepherd -- and will work forever for food, even if he just finished a meal. (And when we fill his bowl and put it down for him, he is so excited he spins and spins and barks. He just cannot wait. He is like a little Lab.)
I love watching him learn about the world. He has learned that cats are sharp, especially McP, that Hilda will bite but Sunny will not, that his spot is on the rug by my computer, that when we call his name there is at least a 90% chance that food will be involved, that the clicker coming out is a good thing, that the crate is his den, that when he's in the car he rides on the floorboards (not much longer, not in Tim's Jetta anyway), that he has to sit and stay if he wants to go in or out a door, that peeing and pooping are done outside, not inside, and that people skin between his teeth is a no-no. Tomorrow we will take him to the V.A. hospital, where he will learn that wheelchairs, canes, and walkers are normal, that stairs are not scary, and that old men are nice people who might feed him. All of the above adds up to Puppy Love.
And then there is Puppy Fever, which is what I have so bad for my new Aussie that I can hardly stand it. She will be four weeks old on Monday, which means I have three more weeks till I can bring her home. (Maybe four.) Her name will be Arizona Annie Oakley, and her call name will be Annie. (I am embarrassed to admit how often I look at her puppy picture on the breeder's website, so I won't.) The other day her breeder put up new video of Annie's litter as well as the other litter she has (11 days younger than Annie's litter). I've watched the video about five times and am so, so in love with that whole litter. The other litter, too. Annie is an adorable red merle with a gorgeous full white collar and white blaze, which I love in Aussies. There are also two beautiful blue merle females, one of which is already sold and the other one of which is still available. Then there are three gorgeous red tri males. I have wanted a merle female for such a long time I cannot believe I still look at those red tris, but I do. Baby Aussies look just like guinea pigs -- fat and round with the same basic color patterns as most guinea pigs. I just can't wait to pick up that new puppy and, now that Zsiga is starting to get a sense of self-control as well as the whole housebreaking thing, start in again with a whole new blank slate who doesn't know anything.
I love training him, too. He is so smart, so alert, so responsive, and so willing to do what I ask. He is a little sponge. He already knows "Sit", "Down", his name, "Leave It", "Touch", and he's well on his way to learning "Stay". He is extremely food-motivated -- so nice to see in a shepherd -- and will work forever for food, even if he just finished a meal. (And when we fill his bowl and put it down for him, he is so excited he spins and spins and barks. He just cannot wait. He is like a little Lab.)
I love watching him learn about the world. He has learned that cats are sharp, especially McP, that Hilda will bite but Sunny will not, that his spot is on the rug by my computer, that when we call his name there is at least a 90% chance that food will be involved, that the clicker coming out is a good thing, that the crate is his den, that when he's in the car he rides on the floorboards (not much longer, not in Tim's Jetta anyway), that he has to sit and stay if he wants to go in or out a door, that peeing and pooping are done outside, not inside, and that people skin between his teeth is a no-no. Tomorrow we will take him to the V.A. hospital, where he will learn that wheelchairs, canes, and walkers are normal, that stairs are not scary, and that old men are nice people who might feed him. All of the above adds up to Puppy Love.
And then there is Puppy Fever, which is what I have so bad for my new Aussie that I can hardly stand it. She will be four weeks old on Monday, which means I have three more weeks till I can bring her home. (Maybe four.) Her name will be Arizona Annie Oakley, and her call name will be Annie. (I am embarrassed to admit how often I look at her puppy picture on the breeder's website, so I won't.) The other day her breeder put up new video of Annie's litter as well as the other litter she has (11 days younger than Annie's litter). I've watched the video about five times and am so, so in love with that whole litter. The other litter, too. Annie is an adorable red merle with a gorgeous full white collar and white blaze, which I love in Aussies. There are also two beautiful blue merle females, one of which is already sold and the other one of which is still available. Then there are three gorgeous red tri males. I have wanted a merle female for such a long time I cannot believe I still look at those red tris, but I do. Baby Aussies look just like guinea pigs -- fat and round with the same basic color patterns as most guinea pigs. I just can't wait to pick up that new puppy and, now that Zsiga is starting to get a sense of self-control as well as the whole housebreaking thing, start in again with a whole new blank slate who doesn't know anything.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
I Love it When Training Days Go Like This!
Lately I have had a whole string of lousy training days in a row -- I couldn't get my goals straight, dogs weren't focused, I didn't train at all due to too much other stuff going on, et cetera. Then, today, in a span of twenty minutes maximum, I had great training sessions with all the dogs.
Zsiga is still working on the Levels. Well, with me he is. I'm trying to get Tim interested but so far no dice. That's fine with me. I'm happy to have Zsiga to practice on so I make my errors on him and not on my little Annie, who arrives in about a month. Zsiga is pretty much all the way through Level One. Today I started him on a target stick. He knows "Touch" for nose touching my finger, but I didn't use it with the target stick because I didn't want to confuse him too much with the new device. Nevertheless, he figured out to nose-touch it on his own in about five repetitions. (I was using the "Train Me" treats that I got in the box from Animal Behavior College. Zsiga loves them, Hilda likes them, and Sunny is suspicious of them and won't eat them.)
I decided to next work on Sit and Down in Heel position (which he doesn't even know yet). I told him to sit, then put myself in Heel position next to him, then told him to Down. He did -- a perfect splat down with his nose on the ground between his feet. I told him Sit and he did. Down again -- he did. He never questioned the fact that he was in Heel position when he's always been in front of me. Then, feeling brave, I did a couple stays. One in Sit, one in Down. I went out to the end of the leash and even put some pressure on the leash, and he stayed put.
Then I handled his feet and ears a little. He is a little iffy about the feet so I brought a peanut butter-smeared spoon with me. This helped. Touch the feet, give him a lick and pet him, repeat times all four feet and let him go. He was an angel about having his ears cleaned.
This dog is eleven weeks old, almost as big as Sunny, and smart, smart, smart. Also willing and food-motivated. That makes for a very easy dog to train. Plus, he is beautiful. His left ear still flops over. I will be sad when it starts to stand up. He's getting a little more tan as opposed to black every day, especially on the face. The look on his face is so bright and intelligent, I love to look into his eyes. I love him, but he's still Tim's dog, and that's fine with me because I want my little Aussie puppy.
I have decided to give up on any aspirations of titling Hilda in anything and just train her tricks instead. Damnit, she is going to be the dog who learns to get me a beer out of the fridge. (Never mind that I don't drink beer; that's beside the point.) This is taught by backchaining. I tried it once a few years ago. Hilda punctured a Mountain Dew can with her teeth when she bit down too hard. got a blast of Mountain Dew in her face, and has been reluctant to touch mouth to can ever since. (Gee, I wonder why.) Today I wrapped loads of duct tape around a can of Diet Cherry Pepsi, which I will never drink anyway because I'm off caffeine, and got her to pick it up in about five minutes. Another success! Next step with her will be to get her to retrieve it and bring it to my hand.
Sunny and I -- yuck. We have been stuck on Step 18 of Shirley Chong's retrieve for a week or so. (Step 17, which he had down, called for him to lift the dumbbell knee-height off the ground and look at me to earn a click. Step 18 called for me to touch part of the dumbbell before it left his mouth or as it was falling for him to earn a click.) He didn't get it and didn't like the movement of my hand toward his mouth or the fact that I had to bend over him a little to touch the dumbbell. He started all kinds of crap -- pawing the dumbbell, lifting it like a millimeter off the ground and then dropping it, lying down on top of it... I thought I had botched our retrieve forever. I didn't panic though, just didn't practice the retrieve at all for a couple days, then went back to Step 17 and reinforced that hundreds of times, then today when I attempted Step 18 again he didn't have any problem with me reaching towards the dumbbell. I got about 50 clicks in, and half of those were double rewards because the dumbbell actually landed in my hand instead of on the ground -- Step 19. Who knows what happened in his little brain during that time off, but I'll take it. And I will NOT rush to Step 19 without at least another 50 repetitions of Step 18.
I knocked out all this dog training in twenty minutes, and now I have three tired, happy dogs who will be in rest mode when I head out to WOG.
Zsiga is still working on the Levels. Well, with me he is. I'm trying to get Tim interested but so far no dice. That's fine with me. I'm happy to have Zsiga to practice on so I make my errors on him and not on my little Annie, who arrives in about a month. Zsiga is pretty much all the way through Level One. Today I started him on a target stick. He knows "Touch" for nose touching my finger, but I didn't use it with the target stick because I didn't want to confuse him too much with the new device. Nevertheless, he figured out to nose-touch it on his own in about five repetitions. (I was using the "Train Me" treats that I got in the box from Animal Behavior College. Zsiga loves them, Hilda likes them, and Sunny is suspicious of them and won't eat them.)
I decided to next work on Sit and Down in Heel position (which he doesn't even know yet). I told him to sit, then put myself in Heel position next to him, then told him to Down. He did -- a perfect splat down with his nose on the ground between his feet. I told him Sit and he did. Down again -- he did. He never questioned the fact that he was in Heel position when he's always been in front of me. Then, feeling brave, I did a couple stays. One in Sit, one in Down. I went out to the end of the leash and even put some pressure on the leash, and he stayed put.
Then I handled his feet and ears a little. He is a little iffy about the feet so I brought a peanut butter-smeared spoon with me. This helped. Touch the feet, give him a lick and pet him, repeat times all four feet and let him go. He was an angel about having his ears cleaned.
This dog is eleven weeks old, almost as big as Sunny, and smart, smart, smart. Also willing and food-motivated. That makes for a very easy dog to train. Plus, he is beautiful. His left ear still flops over. I will be sad when it starts to stand up. He's getting a little more tan as opposed to black every day, especially on the face. The look on his face is so bright and intelligent, I love to look into his eyes. I love him, but he's still Tim's dog, and that's fine with me because I want my little Aussie puppy.
I have decided to give up on any aspirations of titling Hilda in anything and just train her tricks instead. Damnit, she is going to be the dog who learns to get me a beer out of the fridge. (Never mind that I don't drink beer; that's beside the point.) This is taught by backchaining. I tried it once a few years ago. Hilda punctured a Mountain Dew can with her teeth when she bit down too hard. got a blast of Mountain Dew in her face, and has been reluctant to touch mouth to can ever since. (Gee, I wonder why.) Today I wrapped loads of duct tape around a can of Diet Cherry Pepsi, which I will never drink anyway because I'm off caffeine, and got her to pick it up in about five minutes. Another success! Next step with her will be to get her to retrieve it and bring it to my hand.
Sunny and I -- yuck. We have been stuck on Step 18 of Shirley Chong's retrieve for a week or so. (Step 17, which he had down, called for him to lift the dumbbell knee-height off the ground and look at me to earn a click. Step 18 called for me to touch part of the dumbbell before it left his mouth or as it was falling for him to earn a click.) He didn't get it and didn't like the movement of my hand toward his mouth or the fact that I had to bend over him a little to touch the dumbbell. He started all kinds of crap -- pawing the dumbbell, lifting it like a millimeter off the ground and then dropping it, lying down on top of it... I thought I had botched our retrieve forever. I didn't panic though, just didn't practice the retrieve at all for a couple days, then went back to Step 17 and reinforced that hundreds of times, then today when I attempted Step 18 again he didn't have any problem with me reaching towards the dumbbell. I got about 50 clicks in, and half of those were double rewards because the dumbbell actually landed in my hand instead of on the ground -- Step 19. Who knows what happened in his little brain during that time off, but I'll take it. And I will NOT rush to Step 19 without at least another 50 repetitions of Step 18.
I knocked out all this dog training in twenty minutes, and now I have three tired, happy dogs who will be in rest mode when I head out to WOG.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Sunday Gone To The Dogs
Totally gone. At 10:00 there was a guide dog meeting -- evaluations for the older puppies. I went mostly to return the club crate and puppy raising manual, since I am D-O-N-E done with raising guide dog puppies. This is because I'm tired of Labs, and Labs are all that Guide Dogs has available. I am so happy to have a house full of nothing but shepherds (both Aussie and German varieties). I saw Citrus, who I am co-raising in name only as she has not actually been at my house since October -- luckily her co-raisers don't mind having her -- and she could care less about seeing me. She was mildly interested, but not wildly excited like she used to be. I could also care less about seeing her, and didn't even pet her or say hi or anything. The other dogs being evaluated were Kodiak, who just looks like such an all-around nice dog he could almost make me like Labs, and Margo, who was having some issues with noise reactions and doorways. Rick, the evaluator from Guide Dogs, said Margo was questionable. From the little I saw of her, I agree with him. At best she is quirky -- I mean, if she's never been hit with a door, there's no reason for her to be so bothered by them unless she has some odd personal space issue, which will probably show up in other places too. Then there was also Dino, who is not one of the older puppies -- he's only 8 months -- but is a big, dumb, strong, hormonal, unneutered male with a whopping dog distraction who is way too strong for his petite female raisers. Oh, how I would love to get that dog in my house just for a week and show him the way things work, but of course I am too busy with the puppy to do that. I like the other people in the guide dog puppy raising group and will miss them when I'm out of the group, but I did get permission from Debbie to bring Zsiga to some meetings for socialization purposes once he's had all his shots.
After the guide dog meeting, I had to go to Rally class early and help set up the course because Kit, the instructor, was out of town and he asked me to help one of the other instructors with set-up. I said yes even though I worried that by doing so I was setting a precedent for being available to help with classes on Sundays when I definitely am not. Sunday is usually my long ride day, and will be again once I am fully recovered. (If that ever happens.) I thought running a rally course was confusing -- set-up was even harder. Luckily the instructor actually planned the layout, and all I had to do was be able to read the course map enough to know which signs to clip to which posts. We had to lay out a novice course (17 stations) and an advanced course (11 stations). After all that work, only 4 people showed up to class, including me.
Hilda did a nice job in class. Her right finish is looking pretty good. With her sitting in front position, if I gesture with my right hand around behind my back and say "Finish", she pretty much will. This is a lot of improvement considering I quit working with her on about Tuesday of last week. Her left finish, on the other hand, needs lots of work. If I do any work with her this week, it will be on the left finish. The other thing I focused on with her was keeping her in tight heel position when making turns. I did this by baiting my hand and luring her to whip her nose around very quickly when I made a turn, especially a right turn. If she was fast enough, she got the treat. She improved quite a bit on this, too. I'm not planning to show her in Rally -- too expensive, for one thing -- but I do like that she's getting better on the exercises.
Then came Sunny's class. Wow, this real obedience stuff is nowhere near as much fun as Rally, and Pat, the instructor, is nowhere near as nice as Kit. She has her way of doing things and that's how we're going to do them. On the one hand, I really appreciate her demand that we be precise, for example, with Heel position. There is only ONE correct Heel position, and it is with the dog's shoulder behind the seam of the handler's left pants leg. Nothing else is acceptable. But what I don't like is her lack of openness to other methods of training. For example, I'm doing Shirley Chong's retrieve at home with Sunny. (And we happen to be stuck on one step, but that's beside the point.) Pat wanted us to bring our dumbbells to class, so I did. But I didn't like that she wanted me to move much faster with Sunny than my training program allowed. I made the mistake of following her instructions anyway. Sunny was confused and I think a little set back. I informed Pat that from now on I would not be bringing the dumbbell to class and would be training it at home. She told me, "It's not going to do you much good in competition if he can only retrieve the dumbbell at home." Well, yes, I know that; my plan is to TEACH the retrieve at home and then PROOF it in other places. Really, that's not that unclear of a concept. Oh well; she's an old-school trainer with lots of titles earned the old-school way so I do understand where she comes from. I just hope I'm never as closed-minded as she is.
There are only three other people in my class. There is a quiet older guy with a nice Irish setter. (I actually think he was in my puppy class with Sunny three years ago.) He got scolded today for using the clicker too much. (Of course he did.) There's an older woman named Hilde with a really, really nice Akita who is her service dog. I don't know what her disability is, but she walks with a cane and with an obvious limp. Her dog is young and huge and strong and I am impressed that she handles him as well as she does. I'm pretty sure she has been a dog trainer for a long time based on her quiet control of her dog. Then there is the guy with the other Aussie. This guy is also older and is also training his Aussie as a service dog. The first time I met him, I said, "Nice dog" even though I didn't really think it was. His Aussie is a blue merle and is fat and has a very, very dull expression on his too-wide face. "Fat" and "dull" are two adjectives that should never, ever be applied to Aussies. I lost some respect for this guy when he said his Aussie was of his own breeding. Yikes, I don't think I would admit that. I lost more respect for him when I watched his Aussie "work". It does "Heel" and "Stay" nicely because those commands don't take any energy. Everything else is just painful to watch. The dog doesn't appear to know "Down" at all, and when the instructor makes comments about that, the guy makes excuses. According to him, his dog has confidence issues. According to me, his dog is just untrained.
Then, today, there was the loose pit bull. Someone's young pit bull got loose and went tearing around the obedience field. The dog wasn't aggressive, just playful. Hilde's Akita is a little dog reactive so started some jumping around and growling and barking. Lots of people tried to chase the pit bull, which of course just made it more excited. I didn't say anything to it, just started tossing bits of hot dog at it. It stopped to eat the hot dogs calmly and I caught it, making myself a hero (except that no one thanked me for it, but oh well). The guy with the Aussie began lecturing the pit bull's owners and telling them that his dog was a great working dog and they had no right to let their dog run around like that and cause his dog to get worried. He even said that he would be really upset if his working dog was ruined. The owner of the pit bull got mad and stormed off after saying, "I'm sorry I ruined your life; I hope I never see you again!" The rest of us in class were tactfully silent because, in my opinion, the guy with the Aussie was the asshole here. Yes, the pit bull's owner was an idiot for letting her dog get free. But, in her defense, she was a novice at this and this is her first attempt at dog training. This guy did not really do anything for the reputation of the sport of obedience training. (Then, when his dog failed several exercises in a row, he blamed it on stress caused by the running pit bull, even though his dog had failed the exact same exercises before the pit bull's owner ever showed up.)
Sunny rocked his class today. Pat told me he was only following my hand because he thought I had bait in it. She made me hold my left hand with fingers open pressed against my rib cage. She confidently predicted that Sunny would not heel when he knew I didn't have food in my hand. She was wrong; he heeled beautifully. He performed a Stand for exam beautifully too, which was amazing because he has never, ever done one in practice. He dropped on recall exactly where she told me to drop him. He did not do a stellar Stay -- Pat made us stand behind our dogs, and he kept his head swiveled backwards to keep an eye on me the whole time, which threw off his body position -- but at least he did not get up. I am so proud of him for his work ethic -- it's amazing!
I didn't do anything with Zsiga today except clean his ears. They are always dirty and I think he might have a little infection. I am trying very hard to get him to enjoy having his ears handled. He's all right with me doing it, but completely freaked out when getting his temperature taken in his ear at the Humane Society yesterday. I need to handle his feet more too, and since he doesn't like it I should be doing it with a spoonful of peanut butter in one hand... but I can't do everything, right?
Given the tragic events that happened in Tucson this weekend, it is a great escape to just be able to focus on dogs, who don't know or care anything about politics or violence.
After the guide dog meeting, I had to go to Rally class early and help set up the course because Kit, the instructor, was out of town and he asked me to help one of the other instructors with set-up. I said yes even though I worried that by doing so I was setting a precedent for being available to help with classes on Sundays when I definitely am not. Sunday is usually my long ride day, and will be again once I am fully recovered. (If that ever happens.) I thought running a rally course was confusing -- set-up was even harder. Luckily the instructor actually planned the layout, and all I had to do was be able to read the course map enough to know which signs to clip to which posts. We had to lay out a novice course (17 stations) and an advanced course (11 stations). After all that work, only 4 people showed up to class, including me.
Hilda did a nice job in class. Her right finish is looking pretty good. With her sitting in front position, if I gesture with my right hand around behind my back and say "Finish", she pretty much will. This is a lot of improvement considering I quit working with her on about Tuesday of last week. Her left finish, on the other hand, needs lots of work. If I do any work with her this week, it will be on the left finish. The other thing I focused on with her was keeping her in tight heel position when making turns. I did this by baiting my hand and luring her to whip her nose around very quickly when I made a turn, especially a right turn. If she was fast enough, she got the treat. She improved quite a bit on this, too. I'm not planning to show her in Rally -- too expensive, for one thing -- but I do like that she's getting better on the exercises.
Then came Sunny's class. Wow, this real obedience stuff is nowhere near as much fun as Rally, and Pat, the instructor, is nowhere near as nice as Kit. She has her way of doing things and that's how we're going to do them. On the one hand, I really appreciate her demand that we be precise, for example, with Heel position. There is only ONE correct Heel position, and it is with the dog's shoulder behind the seam of the handler's left pants leg. Nothing else is acceptable. But what I don't like is her lack of openness to other methods of training. For example, I'm doing Shirley Chong's retrieve at home with Sunny. (And we happen to be stuck on one step, but that's beside the point.) Pat wanted us to bring our dumbbells to class, so I did. But I didn't like that she wanted me to move much faster with Sunny than my training program allowed. I made the mistake of following her instructions anyway. Sunny was confused and I think a little set back. I informed Pat that from now on I would not be bringing the dumbbell to class and would be training it at home. She told me, "It's not going to do you much good in competition if he can only retrieve the dumbbell at home." Well, yes, I know that; my plan is to TEACH the retrieve at home and then PROOF it in other places. Really, that's not that unclear of a concept. Oh well; she's an old-school trainer with lots of titles earned the old-school way so I do understand where she comes from. I just hope I'm never as closed-minded as she is.
There are only three other people in my class. There is a quiet older guy with a nice Irish setter. (I actually think he was in my puppy class with Sunny three years ago.) He got scolded today for using the clicker too much. (Of course he did.) There's an older woman named Hilde with a really, really nice Akita who is her service dog. I don't know what her disability is, but she walks with a cane and with an obvious limp. Her dog is young and huge and strong and I am impressed that she handles him as well as she does. I'm pretty sure she has been a dog trainer for a long time based on her quiet control of her dog. Then there is the guy with the other Aussie. This guy is also older and is also training his Aussie as a service dog. The first time I met him, I said, "Nice dog" even though I didn't really think it was. His Aussie is a blue merle and is fat and has a very, very dull expression on his too-wide face. "Fat" and "dull" are two adjectives that should never, ever be applied to Aussies. I lost some respect for this guy when he said his Aussie was of his own breeding. Yikes, I don't think I would admit that. I lost more respect for him when I watched his Aussie "work". It does "Heel" and "Stay" nicely because those commands don't take any energy. Everything else is just painful to watch. The dog doesn't appear to know "Down" at all, and when the instructor makes comments about that, the guy makes excuses. According to him, his dog has confidence issues. According to me, his dog is just untrained.
Then, today, there was the loose pit bull. Someone's young pit bull got loose and went tearing around the obedience field. The dog wasn't aggressive, just playful. Hilde's Akita is a little dog reactive so started some jumping around and growling and barking. Lots of people tried to chase the pit bull, which of course just made it more excited. I didn't say anything to it, just started tossing bits of hot dog at it. It stopped to eat the hot dogs calmly and I caught it, making myself a hero (except that no one thanked me for it, but oh well). The guy with the Aussie began lecturing the pit bull's owners and telling them that his dog was a great working dog and they had no right to let their dog run around like that and cause his dog to get worried. He even said that he would be really upset if his working dog was ruined. The owner of the pit bull got mad and stormed off after saying, "I'm sorry I ruined your life; I hope I never see you again!" The rest of us in class were tactfully silent because, in my opinion, the guy with the Aussie was the asshole here. Yes, the pit bull's owner was an idiot for letting her dog get free. But, in her defense, she was a novice at this and this is her first attempt at dog training. This guy did not really do anything for the reputation of the sport of obedience training. (Then, when his dog failed several exercises in a row, he blamed it on stress caused by the running pit bull, even though his dog had failed the exact same exercises before the pit bull's owner ever showed up.)
Sunny rocked his class today. Pat told me he was only following my hand because he thought I had bait in it. She made me hold my left hand with fingers open pressed against my rib cage. She confidently predicted that Sunny would not heel when he knew I didn't have food in my hand. She was wrong; he heeled beautifully. He performed a Stand for exam beautifully too, which was amazing because he has never, ever done one in practice. He dropped on recall exactly where she told me to drop him. He did not do a stellar Stay -- Pat made us stand behind our dogs, and he kept his head swiveled backwards to keep an eye on me the whole time, which threw off his body position -- but at least he did not get up. I am so proud of him for his work ethic -- it's amazing!
I didn't do anything with Zsiga today except clean his ears. They are always dirty and I think he might have a little infection. I am trying very hard to get him to enjoy having his ears handled. He's all right with me doing it, but completely freaked out when getting his temperature taken in his ear at the Humane Society yesterday. I need to handle his feet more too, and since he doesn't like it I should be doing it with a spoonful of peanut butter in one hand... but I can't do everything, right?
Given the tragic events that happened in Tucson this weekend, it is a great escape to just be able to focus on dogs, who don't know or care anything about politics or violence.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Socialization in the Time of Parvovirus
When you have a new puppy, it has to be socialized. Period. Once the puppy hits 16 weeks, the primary socialization window is closed. Before that time, you really have to get that puppy out and exposed to everything it will see in the real world: all kinds of people (men, women, children, old people, people in wheelchairs, people in uniforms, people in hats, drunk people), all kinds of different surfaces (grass, dirt, rocks, asphalt, sidewalk, tile, linoleum, carpet, wood, concrete), all different kinds of noises (heavy traffic, applause, drive-through tellers, live music), all different kinds of animals, et cetera, if you want to have a confident dog later. Not that they CAN'T be socialized to those things when they're older -- socialization is a lifelong process -- but it's so much easier if they see it all when they're young. This need for socialization butts heads with the need to keep the puppy safe from parvovirus. Puppy shots provide only partial protection until the final one is given at the age of 16 weeks, which is also when the primary socialization window closes. What to do?
Parvo is an exceedingly nasty, often-lethal dog virus that is, unfortunately, very common in Tucson. It's spread by any type of contact with feces from an infected dog. It can travel on people's hands, and it can live in dirt for years. It's on my mind for two reasons: 1) we have an 11-week-old puppy of a breed (German shepherd) that is very prone to suspicion, fear, and even aggression if not properly socialized, and 2) there is currently an outbreak of parvo at the San Rafael campus of Guide Dogs for the Blind, Inc., which has killed five puppies about the same age as Zsiga and sickened about thirty other pups. Guide Dogs for the Blind's puppy kennel is a fortress of sorts. Everyone wears protective clothing when interacting with the puppies; no unvaccinated dogs are anywhere near the campus; puppy health is monitored round the clock. Yet, somehow, parvo got into the fortress and killed puppies the same age as Zsiga.
There is an oft-stated opinion floating around dog training circles that, despite the risk, puppies under 16 weeks still need to get out and be socialized. It is true that behavior problems due to lack of socialization kill more dogs each year than parvo ever could. I have always agreed with this opinion, and have always socialized my under-16-weeks-old pups as much as possible, aside from actually taking them to the dog park or Petsmart or any other place where lots of dogs with unknown vaccination history go. (When I first got Citrus at the age of 9 weeks, I carried her into BevMo with me to buy a bottle of wine. Even though I never let her feet touch the ground, a woman came up to me and started berating me for having her out in public. "She could get parvo from licking someone's fingers!" this woman yelled at me. Another woman, passing by my house while I was watering the plants in my front yard with Citrus on leash, told me the same thing. Interfering busybodies.) I've been lucky and none of my puppies have ever gotten sick.
But now it's time to socialize Zsiga, and he needs it, and I am afraid. I am pretty sure Tim thinks I'm being paranoid. But everywhere Zsiga puts his feet, except for in our house and our backyard, makes me worry. The other night we brought him in the car to WOG. It was a great socialization experience. He got to meet all kinds of new people, and thought it was great. We didn't walk him hardly anywhere, just from the car to the grass where everyone was hanging out, but at one point he started digging in the dirt. It got all over his paws and mouth before we stopped him, and I couldn't help but wonder, what if parvo was living in that dirt? What if it's even now incubating in his body? Okay, I know I can't think that way, but I sort of do anyway.
We're lucky that Zsiga really seems to have a rock-solid temperament. He's not afraid of anything, and he loves people. But he still needs to get out and see the world. Tomorrow he's going to the Humane Society for shots (don't let his feet touch the ground there, for sure!), and then I think I will take him to the V.A. hospital for some real socializing. There we will get old men, white canes, wheelchairs, electric scooters, stairs, elevators, oxygen tanks, slippery floors, and, best of all, NO other dogs. I guess there are some safe places.
Parvo is an exceedingly nasty, often-lethal dog virus that is, unfortunately, very common in Tucson. It's spread by any type of contact with feces from an infected dog. It can travel on people's hands, and it can live in dirt for years. It's on my mind for two reasons: 1) we have an 11-week-old puppy of a breed (German shepherd) that is very prone to suspicion, fear, and even aggression if not properly socialized, and 2) there is currently an outbreak of parvo at the San Rafael campus of Guide Dogs for the Blind, Inc., which has killed five puppies about the same age as Zsiga and sickened about thirty other pups. Guide Dogs for the Blind's puppy kennel is a fortress of sorts. Everyone wears protective clothing when interacting with the puppies; no unvaccinated dogs are anywhere near the campus; puppy health is monitored round the clock. Yet, somehow, parvo got into the fortress and killed puppies the same age as Zsiga.
There is an oft-stated opinion floating around dog training circles that, despite the risk, puppies under 16 weeks still need to get out and be socialized. It is true that behavior problems due to lack of socialization kill more dogs each year than parvo ever could. I have always agreed with this opinion, and have always socialized my under-16-weeks-old pups as much as possible, aside from actually taking them to the dog park or Petsmart or any other place where lots of dogs with unknown vaccination history go. (When I first got Citrus at the age of 9 weeks, I carried her into BevMo with me to buy a bottle of wine. Even though I never let her feet touch the ground, a woman came up to me and started berating me for having her out in public. "She could get parvo from licking someone's fingers!" this woman yelled at me. Another woman, passing by my house while I was watering the plants in my front yard with Citrus on leash, told me the same thing. Interfering busybodies.) I've been lucky and none of my puppies have ever gotten sick.
But now it's time to socialize Zsiga, and he needs it, and I am afraid. I am pretty sure Tim thinks I'm being paranoid. But everywhere Zsiga puts his feet, except for in our house and our backyard, makes me worry. The other night we brought him in the car to WOG. It was a great socialization experience. He got to meet all kinds of new people, and thought it was great. We didn't walk him hardly anywhere, just from the car to the grass where everyone was hanging out, but at one point he started digging in the dirt. It got all over his paws and mouth before we stopped him, and I couldn't help but wonder, what if parvo was living in that dirt? What if it's even now incubating in his body? Okay, I know I can't think that way, but I sort of do anyway.
We're lucky that Zsiga really seems to have a rock-solid temperament. He's not afraid of anything, and he loves people. But he still needs to get out and see the world. Tomorrow he's going to the Humane Society for shots (don't let his feet touch the ground there, for sure!), and then I think I will take him to the V.A. hospital for some real socializing. There we will get old men, white canes, wheelchairs, electric scooters, stairs, elevators, oxygen tanks, slippery floors, and, best of all, NO other dogs. I guess there are some safe places.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
How We Got This German Shepherd Puppy
First of all, WE didn't. Tim did.
Let me back up a minute. Before Tim and I started dating, I was planning to get a new Aussie puppy from Sunny's breeder. Sunny turned 4 in July and, although he's been doing very well in rally obedience, I was craving a new puppy that I could start fresh with and build a rock-solid performance foundation on. So I went ahead and reserved a puppy from the late July litter Sunny's breeder had planned. There was one red merle female and I wanted her.
Then I decided to hold off. Tim and I were living together, with a speed that sort of surprised me (within a month of our first date). Everything was going great. He was an awesome person and a dog lover on top of that. But a new puppy can be a huge burden on a new relationship, even a GOOD new relationship. It's sort of like having a new baby too soon. I decided that in the interest of building my human relationship on a solid foundation, I would sacrifice my beautiful little red merle female Aussie and wait for my breeder's next litter, due at the end of December.
Tim had wolves once, as pets. It's a long story. He loves smart, loyal, protective dogs that look sort of like wolves, like German shepherds. He loves Sunny, but he prefers Hilda to Sunny. I think the German shepherd is a beautiful, noble, intelligent breed, but I like the unquestioning devotion of the Aussie. Aussies do not want to do anything other than what you tell them to do. They are the type of dogs that hang around waiting for a command. Shepherds are the type of dogs that have to monitor everything, all the time, and make sure everything is status quo. If you put up a 2-foot-high baby gate in a doorway, most Aussies will respect it. Even if it is partially knocked down. A shepherd might respect it, but if she sees something on the other side that requires attention -- like a burglar breaking in or a cat misbehaving or another dog getting the owner's attention -- she will probably go through the baby gate if she physically can. Shepherds have a strong sense of how the world is supposed to be, and will do everything in their power to make it that way. Aussies trust you to keep the world the way it is supposed to be. That's how I see it, anyway.
Suddenly last month, and seemingly out of nowhere, Tim developed an intense desire for a German shepherd. At first I thought he was kidding. Then he kept bringing it up and I knew he was serious. Naturally, that was great news for me! A German shepherd puppy in the house NOW was better than having to wait for an Aussie puppy in February. So I started looking for a German shepherd puppy. And then I quickly realized that German shepherds are much, much more expensive than Aussies. I found several German shepherd kennels online, but their puppies were anywhere between $1200 and $2500. That seemed like a lot even for shepherds with health guarantees and German bloodlines. So then I turned to the classifieds. There was nothing. I looked in the Phoenix classifieds. There were a few litters. I emailed the people who placed the ads. No response. It was nearly Christmas and we were feeling glum because it didn't look like there was going to be a shepherd puppy in our house any time soon.
Then, looking again, I entered the search term "German" in the classifieds instead of "German shepherds". Lo and behold, an ad came up for "German Sheps". It was complete with pictures of adorable little black and grey fluffballs. There were three females and one male, and the price was $600 for puppies without papers and $850 with papers. I called the breeder, and he didn't sound too bad for a backyard breeder. Mother had hips rated Good by OFA; father was too young to have an official rating but had at least had his hips X-rayed and they looked good. The breeder offered to knock $50 off the price since we were coming all the way up from Tucson. The ad included a picture of the German-bred parents. There was also one picture of a beautiful, mostly grey pup that I desperately hoped would be the one Tim picked. I didn't say anything to him, though, because this was Tim's puppy and needed to be Tim's choice.
Let me take a VERY unpopular stance and say that I LIKE backyard breeders. I admire and respect breeders who get every health clearance known to man done on their dogs, and show them in various venues, and all that. But. I don't want to have to pay a thousand dollars or more for a puppy to cover the expenses of yearly eye exams, genetic testing, travel expenses and entry fees for the parents to participate in various dog shows, et cetera. I don't like having to go through the third degree when buying a puppy. I have the old-fashioned belief that if I am paying a lot of money for this dog, I just plain don't want to be told I have to have it neutered or spayed. Or have to take it to obedience class. Or have to answer questions about how many people and pets live in my house and how much experience I have with dogs. Or have to promise to return it to the breeder if I ever get in a situation where I can't keep it. I treat my dogs very well, but -- and I'm sorry, because I know this will offend some and possibly all of my readers -- I still view dogs as property. MY property. If I pay for them, I expect to own them. Furthermore, as long as the parents are healthy with nice temperaments, I don't see anything wrong with breeding a litter and selling the pups. I'm sure you've all heard the saying, "Don't breed or buy while shelter pets die". But that implies that if we didn't buy one of these shepherd pups, we would go down to the pound and adopt some needy rescue puppy instead. That just plain wouldn't happen! I think back to those terrified mini-Aussie pups we fostered. They were awfully cute, and sweet, but their early experiences (or rather lack of experiences) left them with scars that they (and their adopters) will have to live with for the next fifteen years. I just plain don't want to deal with that type of temperament. I like certain breeds for their known qualities, like all the ones I mentioned above. Of course every dog is an individual, but you can assume most shepherds will be smart, loyal, and protective.
Now that I'm done justifying buying from a backyard breeder... We made the drive up to Gilbert, a couple hours away. The house was in a nice suburb. The family was your typical well-fed suburban family. There were lots of kids running around. Mama shepherd greeted us at the door. She was about the same size as Hilda, but more of a red color with a lighter and smaller saddle. She was very calm and friendly -- a good sign. We went out into the backyard to meet the pups. There were three left -- two females and a male. All three were asleep under the grill while screaming children ran and played all around them. I took this as a good sign since they had already had their formative experiences in an environment crazier than anything they would ever see with us.
We woke the puppies up, a process that took some time. They gradually came to life. The beautiful fluffy mostly grey puppy was there. She was huge, as big as the male, with leg bones as thick as my forearm. The male puppy and the other female were both mostly black with tan feet, underbellies, and markings on their faces. The smaller black and tan female was the least outgoing of the three. The father of the puppies was a giant red and black shepherd. He was young, so not filled out yet, but I bet will reach 100 lbs. by the time he's mature. He was friendly too, but had much more energy than the mother. I got the impression that if anyone in this family wanted to walk him down the street, they might have a hard time. He ran around the yard snapping at flies. I idly considered the possibility that this might be obsessive behavior that he could pass on to his offspring, but decided I would think about that later.
Somehow, as we looked at the three adorable puppies, I did not want the beautiful, fluffy grey female anymore. I wanted the male. I don't know why. I looked in his eyes, and he had such a beautiful, strong, confident expression that I just completely fell in love with it. Sometimes the look of a dog can suck me in like that. I couldn't even really look at the other two puppies anymore; I kept looking back at the male. I didn't say anything because I knew Tim wanted a female and I didn't want to influence him. Then suddenly he said, "This one," and pointed at the male. I was ecstatic. This proved that I wasn't imagining how smoking hot that puppy was, and that Tim saw it too.
Tim paid for the puppy (no papers -- we didn't need or want them) and we headed home with our little bundle of joy. We discussed what to name him for a while. Tim wanted to name him after a Nobel Prize winner, so I looked up the list of Nobel Prize winners on my Droid and, let me tell you, those guys have some seriously lame names that should never be bestowed on beautiful German shepherds. I distracted Tim away from the idea of Nobel Prize winners. I thought that if this was my puppy I would definitely name him Kaiser, but Tim didn't like that one. Somehow we came up with the idea that we wanted a German name that started with "Z". I Googled "German names starting with Z" and there it was: "Zsiga", German for "victorious defender". We both loved it immediately. I love that it's German, I love that it starts with "Z", I love that it has a silent "S", I love the way it rolls off the tongue. But most of all I love this awesome puppy. He is turning out to be just as nice as he looked when we first looked at him.
Let me back up a minute. Before Tim and I started dating, I was planning to get a new Aussie puppy from Sunny's breeder. Sunny turned 4 in July and, although he's been doing very well in rally obedience, I was craving a new puppy that I could start fresh with and build a rock-solid performance foundation on. So I went ahead and reserved a puppy from the late July litter Sunny's breeder had planned. There was one red merle female and I wanted her.
Then I decided to hold off. Tim and I were living together, with a speed that sort of surprised me (within a month of our first date). Everything was going great. He was an awesome person and a dog lover on top of that. But a new puppy can be a huge burden on a new relationship, even a GOOD new relationship. It's sort of like having a new baby too soon. I decided that in the interest of building my human relationship on a solid foundation, I would sacrifice my beautiful little red merle female Aussie and wait for my breeder's next litter, due at the end of December.
Tim had wolves once, as pets. It's a long story. He loves smart, loyal, protective dogs that look sort of like wolves, like German shepherds. He loves Sunny, but he prefers Hilda to Sunny. I think the German shepherd is a beautiful, noble, intelligent breed, but I like the unquestioning devotion of the Aussie. Aussies do not want to do anything other than what you tell them to do. They are the type of dogs that hang around waiting for a command. Shepherds are the type of dogs that have to monitor everything, all the time, and make sure everything is status quo. If you put up a 2-foot-high baby gate in a doorway, most Aussies will respect it. Even if it is partially knocked down. A shepherd might respect it, but if she sees something on the other side that requires attention -- like a burglar breaking in or a cat misbehaving or another dog getting the owner's attention -- she will probably go through the baby gate if she physically can. Shepherds have a strong sense of how the world is supposed to be, and will do everything in their power to make it that way. Aussies trust you to keep the world the way it is supposed to be. That's how I see it, anyway.
Suddenly last month, and seemingly out of nowhere, Tim developed an intense desire for a German shepherd. At first I thought he was kidding. Then he kept bringing it up and I knew he was serious. Naturally, that was great news for me! A German shepherd puppy in the house NOW was better than having to wait for an Aussie puppy in February. So I started looking for a German shepherd puppy. And then I quickly realized that German shepherds are much, much more expensive than Aussies. I found several German shepherd kennels online, but their puppies were anywhere between $1200 and $2500. That seemed like a lot even for shepherds with health guarantees and German bloodlines. So then I turned to the classifieds. There was nothing. I looked in the Phoenix classifieds. There were a few litters. I emailed the people who placed the ads. No response. It was nearly Christmas and we were feeling glum because it didn't look like there was going to be a shepherd puppy in our house any time soon.
Then, looking again, I entered the search term "German" in the classifieds instead of "German shepherds". Lo and behold, an ad came up for "German Sheps". It was complete with pictures of adorable little black and grey fluffballs. There were three females and one male, and the price was $600 for puppies without papers and $850 with papers. I called the breeder, and he didn't sound too bad for a backyard breeder. Mother had hips rated Good by OFA; father was too young to have an official rating but had at least had his hips X-rayed and they looked good. The breeder offered to knock $50 off the price since we were coming all the way up from Tucson. The ad included a picture of the German-bred parents. There was also one picture of a beautiful, mostly grey pup that I desperately hoped would be the one Tim picked. I didn't say anything to him, though, because this was Tim's puppy and needed to be Tim's choice.
Let me take a VERY unpopular stance and say that I LIKE backyard breeders. I admire and respect breeders who get every health clearance known to man done on their dogs, and show them in various venues, and all that. But. I don't want to have to pay a thousand dollars or more for a puppy to cover the expenses of yearly eye exams, genetic testing, travel expenses and entry fees for the parents to participate in various dog shows, et cetera. I don't like having to go through the third degree when buying a puppy. I have the old-fashioned belief that if I am paying a lot of money for this dog, I just plain don't want to be told I have to have it neutered or spayed. Or have to take it to obedience class. Or have to answer questions about how many people and pets live in my house and how much experience I have with dogs. Or have to promise to return it to the breeder if I ever get in a situation where I can't keep it. I treat my dogs very well, but -- and I'm sorry, because I know this will offend some and possibly all of my readers -- I still view dogs as property. MY property. If I pay for them, I expect to own them. Furthermore, as long as the parents are healthy with nice temperaments, I don't see anything wrong with breeding a litter and selling the pups. I'm sure you've all heard the saying, "Don't breed or buy while shelter pets die". But that implies that if we didn't buy one of these shepherd pups, we would go down to the pound and adopt some needy rescue puppy instead. That just plain wouldn't happen! I think back to those terrified mini-Aussie pups we fostered. They were awfully cute, and sweet, but their early experiences (or rather lack of experiences) left them with scars that they (and their adopters) will have to live with for the next fifteen years. I just plain don't want to deal with that type of temperament. I like certain breeds for their known qualities, like all the ones I mentioned above. Of course every dog is an individual, but you can assume most shepherds will be smart, loyal, and protective.
Now that I'm done justifying buying from a backyard breeder... We made the drive up to Gilbert, a couple hours away. The house was in a nice suburb. The family was your typical well-fed suburban family. There were lots of kids running around. Mama shepherd greeted us at the door. She was about the same size as Hilda, but more of a red color with a lighter and smaller saddle. She was very calm and friendly -- a good sign. We went out into the backyard to meet the pups. There were three left -- two females and a male. All three were asleep under the grill while screaming children ran and played all around them. I took this as a good sign since they had already had their formative experiences in an environment crazier than anything they would ever see with us.
We woke the puppies up, a process that took some time. They gradually came to life. The beautiful fluffy mostly grey puppy was there. She was huge, as big as the male, with leg bones as thick as my forearm. The male puppy and the other female were both mostly black with tan feet, underbellies, and markings on their faces. The smaller black and tan female was the least outgoing of the three. The father of the puppies was a giant red and black shepherd. He was young, so not filled out yet, but I bet will reach 100 lbs. by the time he's mature. He was friendly too, but had much more energy than the mother. I got the impression that if anyone in this family wanted to walk him down the street, they might have a hard time. He ran around the yard snapping at flies. I idly considered the possibility that this might be obsessive behavior that he could pass on to his offspring, but decided I would think about that later.
Somehow, as we looked at the three adorable puppies, I did not want the beautiful, fluffy grey female anymore. I wanted the male. I don't know why. I looked in his eyes, and he had such a beautiful, strong, confident expression that I just completely fell in love with it. Sometimes the look of a dog can suck me in like that. I couldn't even really look at the other two puppies anymore; I kept looking back at the male. I didn't say anything because I knew Tim wanted a female and I didn't want to influence him. Then suddenly he said, "This one," and pointed at the male. I was ecstatic. This proved that I wasn't imagining how smoking hot that puppy was, and that Tim saw it too.
Tim paid for the puppy (no papers -- we didn't need or want them) and we headed home with our little bundle of joy. We discussed what to name him for a while. Tim wanted to name him after a Nobel Prize winner, so I looked up the list of Nobel Prize winners on my Droid and, let me tell you, those guys have some seriously lame names that should never be bestowed on beautiful German shepherds. I distracted Tim away from the idea of Nobel Prize winners. I thought that if this was my puppy I would definitely name him Kaiser, but Tim didn't like that one. Somehow we came up with the idea that we wanted a German name that started with "Z". I Googled "German names starting with Z" and there it was: "Zsiga", German for "victorious defender". We both loved it immediately. I love that it's German, I love that it starts with "Z", I love that it has a silent "S", I love the way it rolls off the tongue. But most of all I love this awesome puppy. He is turning out to be just as nice as he looked when we first looked at him.
Right Side Finishes, One Confused Retriever, Treat Cups All Over the House
Hilda is very enthusiastic with the clicker. Almost too enthusiastic. She is super fast to offer a new behavior if not rewarded instantly for the previous one; she barks too much; she grabs treats out of my hand with such sharpness that I'm almost afraid of her; she drops the treats on the floor so frequently that she spends a good chunk of her training sessions vaccuuming the floor by my feet with her nose just in case she missed something. Nevertheless, we're making good progress on the right side finish. I still don't know where her perfect Front came from, but I'm enjoying it. My plan for the right side finish is this: I started with her in Front. Then I stepped up so that my right leg was parallel to her right shoulder. Then I turned just slightly to my left and gave her the hand signal with my right hand so that she had to come around behind me. At first I just clicked for her making the motion of coming around behind me, and didn't care whether she sat or not. But by the last few trials, I made her sit before getting the click. She's getting it. It needs to be cleaned up, but she understands now that she has to come around behind me and end up on my left side.
Sunny is wildly confused today. The last step in his retrieve was that he had to pick up the dumbbell and lift his head all the way so he was looking at me, still holding the dumbbell, before he got the click. He was doing great with that. The next step was supposed to be me moving my hand to catch the dumbbell as it fell. That didn't work well, not at all. I think he feels threatened by my hand moving toward him (silly over-sensitive Aussies), so he started doing all this other crap -- lifting the dumbbell like a quarter-inch off the floor and then dropping it, pawing it, laying down on top of it... I realized that whatever I was doing, I was doing it wrong. So I decided to just go back to the previous step of having him lift it knee-high and look up at me, and reinforce that. That also backfired since now he was really confused and didn't want to do anything with the dumbbell at all. So I put him away and let Hilda work instead. When I brought him back, he was ready to work. We ignored the dumbbell this time and I worked on finding Front from a Halt, and then finishing either left or right. I found out the key thing with that is that I have to pause a second after the Front and then be very clear about whether I want the left or right finish. If I go too fast, he short circuits.
For the retrieve, I will have to add an intermediate step with me reaching my hand in his direction but not close to him before I actually try to touch the dumbbell. I hate adding things to proven methods, but this time it is simply not going to work any other way because of Sunny's sensitivity. My apologies to Shirley Chong, but I'm sure she would understand that the mark of a great trainer is flexibility and willingness to adapt instructional methods to the student.
Zsiga does not Come when called. We're going to work on that. I have stashed treat cups all over the house -- on the bedroom shelf, on the bookcase in the living room, on the bar in the kitchen, on the shelf by the desk, and on the tool shelf in the Arizona room -- so that whenever either one of us feels like calling Zsiga, there will always be a food reward close at hand. (I KNEW there was a reason I saved that tower of Eegee's cups we got when we bought our bucket of Eegee way back in August! They are treat cups!) Tim doesn't have a Come word yet, so I'm just going to use Zsiga's name unless told otherwise. It is great, rare fun to work with a food-motivated shepherd. Once Zsiga figures out the game and that he stands a 100% chance of getting treats if he can just bring himself to come when called, I have no doubts that Tim and I and the word "Zsiga" will become the most salient things in the environment. Soon I will insist that Tim play the Come Game from Level One with me, but I am taking it easy on him since he has been under stress with his grandmother passing away and me being under the weather.
I have to mention that I love how our house is set up for puppy raising. The cats' litter boxes are in the laundry room, which is blocked by a baby gate with a cat hole cut in it that Zsiga will very soon be unable to fit through. The Arizona room is blocked off from the kitchen by a gate that has a little tiny cat gate in it. (Unbelievably, Hilda can make herself boneless and fit through that cat gate if sufficiently motivated.) Finally, we unfolded the ex-pen across the opening between the kitchen and the living room. So Zsiga can be safely contained in the Arizona room while I clean the litterboxes in the morning, and I can block him in the kitchen while I'm using the computer. I can easily block all dogs except the one being trained at the moment from any room I want. Zsiga has no access to carpeted rooms at all unless I know for a fact he is 100% empty as of no less than ten minutes ago. (He hasn't had an accident since I returned home from California, and will very soon be getting more of a chance to run around the full house. He is a very easy puppy to house train, thank God.)
Sunny is wildly confused today. The last step in his retrieve was that he had to pick up the dumbbell and lift his head all the way so he was looking at me, still holding the dumbbell, before he got the click. He was doing great with that. The next step was supposed to be me moving my hand to catch the dumbbell as it fell. That didn't work well, not at all. I think he feels threatened by my hand moving toward him (silly over-sensitive Aussies), so he started doing all this other crap -- lifting the dumbbell like a quarter-inch off the floor and then dropping it, pawing it, laying down on top of it... I realized that whatever I was doing, I was doing it wrong. So I decided to just go back to the previous step of having him lift it knee-high and look up at me, and reinforce that. That also backfired since now he was really confused and didn't want to do anything with the dumbbell at all. So I put him away and let Hilda work instead. When I brought him back, he was ready to work. We ignored the dumbbell this time and I worked on finding Front from a Halt, and then finishing either left or right. I found out the key thing with that is that I have to pause a second after the Front and then be very clear about whether I want the left or right finish. If I go too fast, he short circuits.
For the retrieve, I will have to add an intermediate step with me reaching my hand in his direction but not close to him before I actually try to touch the dumbbell. I hate adding things to proven methods, but this time it is simply not going to work any other way because of Sunny's sensitivity. My apologies to Shirley Chong, but I'm sure she would understand that the mark of a great trainer is flexibility and willingness to adapt instructional methods to the student.
Zsiga does not Come when called. We're going to work on that. I have stashed treat cups all over the house -- on the bedroom shelf, on the bookcase in the living room, on the bar in the kitchen, on the shelf by the desk, and on the tool shelf in the Arizona room -- so that whenever either one of us feels like calling Zsiga, there will always be a food reward close at hand. (I KNEW there was a reason I saved that tower of Eegee's cups we got when we bought our bucket of Eegee way back in August! They are treat cups!) Tim doesn't have a Come word yet, so I'm just going to use Zsiga's name unless told otherwise. It is great, rare fun to work with a food-motivated shepherd. Once Zsiga figures out the game and that he stands a 100% chance of getting treats if he can just bring himself to come when called, I have no doubts that Tim and I and the word "Zsiga" will become the most salient things in the environment. Soon I will insist that Tim play the Come Game from Level One with me, but I am taking it easy on him since he has been under stress with his grandmother passing away and me being under the weather.
I have to mention that I love how our house is set up for puppy raising. The cats' litter boxes are in the laundry room, which is blocked by a baby gate with a cat hole cut in it that Zsiga will very soon be unable to fit through. The Arizona room is blocked off from the kitchen by a gate that has a little tiny cat gate in it. (Unbelievably, Hilda can make herself boneless and fit through that cat gate if sufficiently motivated.) Finally, we unfolded the ex-pen across the opening between the kitchen and the living room. So Zsiga can be safely contained in the Arizona room while I clean the litterboxes in the morning, and I can block him in the kitchen while I'm using the computer. I can easily block all dogs except the one being trained at the moment from any room I want. Zsiga has no access to carpeted rooms at all unless I know for a fact he is 100% empty as of no less than ten minutes ago. (He hasn't had an accident since I returned home from California, and will very soon be getting more of a chance to run around the full house. He is a very easy puppy to house train, thank God.)
Monday, January 3, 2011
Not That I Really Need Another Blog, But....
But I DO need a dog blog. Here's why.
I've always been a dog person -- lived with them, loved them, trained them, studied the ways they are used to improve the human condition, et cetera. Then I met, moved in with, and fell in love with someone else who is also a dog person. Somehow the dogs went from important-but-peripheral to central -- both to each of us separately, and, somehow, to our identity as a couple. Don't ask me how that works, but that's what happened. The whole process of our life together evolving into our life with the dogs fascinates me, and I want to document it so I can have a record of it.
That is one part of it. Another part is that it's a new year, 2011, and time for some new goals, and I want my goals to include the dogs. One thing I have learned is that if you want to achieve goals, you had better write them down. And you had better update them frequently so you know whether you are getting closer to meeting your goals or not. I have dog goals across the board, so here are some of them and here is what I'm going to do to pursue them.
Dog Writing. I have been writing stories about dogs since I could put paper to pen and make words. I have always known I was going to not only write a book some day (in fact, I have already written several), but also have it published. I believe that my first book that I will publish will be a dog book. Specifically, I think it will be the book I'm writing about my life as a guide dog trainer. In this book I plan to spill all the secrets of guide dog training that I picked up over my years at Guiding Eyes for the Blind and The Seeing Eye, as well as puppy raising for Guide Dogs for the Blind. I am convinced that if I can find a good agent, I will be able to sell this book. Here's why. Dog books are always in demand -- training books, books that celebrate the dog-human bond, and books that give a glimpse into specialized dog worlds, like military dogs or service dogs. While there have been dozens of books written by blind people working with guide dogs, and some books written by outside authors about guide dogs and guide dog schools, there has never been a book written by a guide dog trainer about guide dog training. Every guide dog story is also a human interest story, which is another type of very popular dog book. My book will be unique, marketable, and timely. All I need to do is write the thing! I'm about 150 pages in, which sounds like a lot but isn't really. I would like to get it to at least 500 pages before calling it quits and starting the editing. I plan to really chop hell out of it and keep only the very best parts. (They say you can judge the quality of a book by the quality of the pieces you leave on the editing floor.) In the mean time, I have managed to snag a column in the bimonthly competition obedience magazine Front and Finish. Front and Finish is transitioning from print to all-electronic. The editor issued a call for new column ideas, and I proposed a column written by someone who is new to competitive dog sports. He liked my idea, and my first column will be published in the March issue if all goes well. (Tentative column title: Handler Error. Anyone have any better suggestions?) I also entered a story in the AKC Gazette's dog fiction contest. It's a pretty mediocre story in my opinion, but might still win something. I plan to write a couple columns for Front and Finish, then put together a killer proposal and start agent-shopping. (That way I can point out that I have a column in a national magazine, always a good thing for an aspiring published author.) Until that time I am not going to worry about writing any more of the book, although I am going to make sure I do plenty of blogging and column-writing to keep up my skills.
Hilda. Hilda is eight years old, but in fine shape. She is still wild about the clicker and loves to learn new things. So I have decided to switch Sunny over to regular AKC obedience in hopes of earning the first-level title C.D. (Companion Dog), and let Hilda play in Rally-O for a while. We started our first Rally class yesterday. Hilda hasn't been in class for a long time, and I was impressed with how quickly she calmed down and focused on me and started really applying herself. (Although I had to revert to some pretty good collar popping to get her damn nose out of the grass.) It was interesting doing the tight rally turns with such a long dog. I never noticed how short-backed Sunny is or how his short back makes tight heeling so much easier until I started working with Hilda.
I don't recall ever actually teaching Hilda a Front -- "Come" for Seeing Eye dogs meant to come to the handler, circle at the left side, and then sit -- but she showed off a beautiful, straight Front every single time at the rally class. Finishes were a different matter. I would have expected a nice left finish since that was how she learned it at Seeing Eye, but she seemed clueless yesterday. The right finish was even more baffling. She absolutely did not get the concept of coming behind me. She planted her butt and refused to be moved every time I attempted the right finish. What we need to do there is lots of clicker work, first encourage her to come around to my right at all from the front, and then raise criteria and gradually require her to go further and further around my right until she is finally all the way at my left.
So here are my goals for Hilda:
1) Earn the Canine Good Citizen title -- convince her that supervised separation from me is not a bad thing.
2) Earn the Rally Novice title:
A) Teach the left finish
B) Teach the right finish
C) Get her head out of the grass
D) Clean up her auto-sit
3) Teach her a repertoire of tricks. She already knows some good ones: Paw, Bang (even when using a toy gun as a prop -- oh, so cute), Close the Door, Speak, Back Up; but at the very least I would like to add Beg, Roll Over, Jump Through a Hoop, and Balance and Catch a Treat. And I would really, really like for her to be able to go to the fridge, get me a soda, and close the fridge door, then bring me the soda.
4) Finish the retrieve using Shirley Chong's method: http://www.shirleychong.com/keepers/retrieve.html5. There is not a better retrieve method out there, though I really need to give The Clicked Retriever a try before making that statement so authoritatively.
5) Go back to Sue Eh's levels and FINISH THEM. If you don't know what the Levels are, look here and let your dog training adventures begin: http://www.dragonflyllama.com/%20DOGS/Levels/LevelBehaviours/LevelsBook.html
God bless the Internet. This is a priceless training plan, worth hundreds of dollars, available for FREE. It will change the way you think about dog training, I guarantee it.
Rally first. Then the retrieve. Then the CGC. Then the tricks. Then return to the Levels and finish them up.
Sunny: I will, perhaps, go on to the Rally Advanced title this year. But first, I want to earn that CD. There are several formidable obstacles to both pursuits:
1) The CD:
A) He needs to learn the long down and the long sit.
B) He needs to learn how to stand and stay.
C) He needs to learn that it's okay for a stranger to touch him while he's in a stand-stay.
D) He needs to learn precise heel position -- my pants seam in front of his front leg.
E) I need to learn precision footwork.
2) The Rally Advanced:
A) He needs a straight back-up for 3 steps.
B) He needs to clear up the confusion that has somehow developed between a left finish and a right
finish.
C) He needs to improve his ability to find Front from a Halt.
3) Finish Shirley Chong's retrieve in preparation for Open competition. We're on Step 17 right now.
4) He also needs a repertoire of tricks, to include, at minimum: Paw, Bang, Beg, Speak, Close Door, Roll Over, and Jump Through a Hoop.
5) Finish up the Levels with him, too.
6) Somewhere in the far, far future, I want to explore freestyle obedience. Maybe not even with Sunny; maybe with Annie. But with an Aussie, for sure.
I will work on obedience during the weekends, heeling daily (I hope), and the retrieve AT LEAST one step per day if not more.
Zsiga: Zsiga is Tim's puppy -- not my responsibility. Nevertheless, I want to fool around with him a little because 1) he's here, 2) I'm responsible for him much of the time while Tim is sleeping or at work, and 3) a German shepherd raised the wrong way can be a liability, and I don't want one. So what I want to do with him is:
1) Move through the Levels, as much as possible.
2) Try out the Clicked Retriever, on a dog where it doesn't matter if it gets screwed up.
3) Handle his feet and ears on a daily basis, so he doesn't grow up to be one of those shepherds who screams bloody murder when his ears or nails have to be attended to.
4) Encourage Tim in every way possible to get him interested in Frisbee. I want a Frisbee dog so bad, and I just don't think I'll have time to do that with Annie.
Annie: Little Arizona Annie Oakley. She's not even here yet. A beautiful, 2-week-old red merle Aussie that is going to be my performance dog in obedience, agility, freestyle, rally, who knows what else. I have such big plans for this dog. The sky is the limit. I bring her home mid-February and will start right in with the Levels as soon as possible. I just can't wait to have that dog at home and have her in my lap and start loving her.
Also, I can't wait for the craziness of having two puppies at home at the same time. I can't wait to do it all with Tim -- my perfect partner. We're just an awesome team.
I've always been a dog person -- lived with them, loved them, trained them, studied the ways they are used to improve the human condition, et cetera. Then I met, moved in with, and fell in love with someone else who is also a dog person. Somehow the dogs went from important-but-peripheral to central -- both to each of us separately, and, somehow, to our identity as a couple. Don't ask me how that works, but that's what happened. The whole process of our life together evolving into our life with the dogs fascinates me, and I want to document it so I can have a record of it.
That is one part of it. Another part is that it's a new year, 2011, and time for some new goals, and I want my goals to include the dogs. One thing I have learned is that if you want to achieve goals, you had better write them down. And you had better update them frequently so you know whether you are getting closer to meeting your goals or not. I have dog goals across the board, so here are some of them and here is what I'm going to do to pursue them.
Dog Writing. I have been writing stories about dogs since I could put paper to pen and make words. I have always known I was going to not only write a book some day (in fact, I have already written several), but also have it published. I believe that my first book that I will publish will be a dog book. Specifically, I think it will be the book I'm writing about my life as a guide dog trainer. In this book I plan to spill all the secrets of guide dog training that I picked up over my years at Guiding Eyes for the Blind and The Seeing Eye, as well as puppy raising for Guide Dogs for the Blind. I am convinced that if I can find a good agent, I will be able to sell this book. Here's why. Dog books are always in demand -- training books, books that celebrate the dog-human bond, and books that give a glimpse into specialized dog worlds, like military dogs or service dogs. While there have been dozens of books written by blind people working with guide dogs, and some books written by outside authors about guide dogs and guide dog schools, there has never been a book written by a guide dog trainer about guide dog training. Every guide dog story is also a human interest story, which is another type of very popular dog book. My book will be unique, marketable, and timely. All I need to do is write the thing! I'm about 150 pages in, which sounds like a lot but isn't really. I would like to get it to at least 500 pages before calling it quits and starting the editing. I plan to really chop hell out of it and keep only the very best parts. (They say you can judge the quality of a book by the quality of the pieces you leave on the editing floor.) In the mean time, I have managed to snag a column in the bimonthly competition obedience magazine Front and Finish. Front and Finish is transitioning from print to all-electronic. The editor issued a call for new column ideas, and I proposed a column written by someone who is new to competitive dog sports. He liked my idea, and my first column will be published in the March issue if all goes well. (Tentative column title: Handler Error. Anyone have any better suggestions?) I also entered a story in the AKC Gazette's dog fiction contest. It's a pretty mediocre story in my opinion, but might still win something. I plan to write a couple columns for Front and Finish, then put together a killer proposal and start agent-shopping. (That way I can point out that I have a column in a national magazine, always a good thing for an aspiring published author.) Until that time I am not going to worry about writing any more of the book, although I am going to make sure I do plenty of blogging and column-writing to keep up my skills.
Hilda. Hilda is eight years old, but in fine shape. She is still wild about the clicker and loves to learn new things. So I have decided to switch Sunny over to regular AKC obedience in hopes of earning the first-level title C.D. (Companion Dog), and let Hilda play in Rally-O for a while. We started our first Rally class yesterday. Hilda hasn't been in class for a long time, and I was impressed with how quickly she calmed down and focused on me and started really applying herself. (Although I had to revert to some pretty good collar popping to get her damn nose out of the grass.) It was interesting doing the tight rally turns with such a long dog. I never noticed how short-backed Sunny is or how his short back makes tight heeling so much easier until I started working with Hilda.
I don't recall ever actually teaching Hilda a Front -- "Come" for Seeing Eye dogs meant to come to the handler, circle at the left side, and then sit -- but she showed off a beautiful, straight Front every single time at the rally class. Finishes were a different matter. I would have expected a nice left finish since that was how she learned it at Seeing Eye, but she seemed clueless yesterday. The right finish was even more baffling. She absolutely did not get the concept of coming behind me. She planted her butt and refused to be moved every time I attempted the right finish. What we need to do there is lots of clicker work, first encourage her to come around to my right at all from the front, and then raise criteria and gradually require her to go further and further around my right until she is finally all the way at my left.
So here are my goals for Hilda:
1) Earn the Canine Good Citizen title -- convince her that supervised separation from me is not a bad thing.
2) Earn the Rally Novice title:
A) Teach the left finish
B) Teach the right finish
C) Get her head out of the grass
D) Clean up her auto-sit
3) Teach her a repertoire of tricks. She already knows some good ones: Paw, Bang (even when using a toy gun as a prop -- oh, so cute), Close the Door, Speak, Back Up; but at the very least I would like to add Beg, Roll Over, Jump Through a Hoop, and Balance and Catch a Treat. And I would really, really like for her to be able to go to the fridge, get me a soda, and close the fridge door, then bring me the soda.
4) Finish the retrieve using Shirley Chong's method: http://www.shirleychong.com/keepers/retrieve.html5. There is not a better retrieve method out there, though I really need to give The Clicked Retriever a try before making that statement so authoritatively.
5) Go back to Sue Eh's levels and FINISH THEM. If you don't know what the Levels are, look here and let your dog training adventures begin: http://www.dragonflyllama.com/%20DOGS/Levels/LevelBehaviours/LevelsBook.html
God bless the Internet. This is a priceless training plan, worth hundreds of dollars, available for FREE. It will change the way you think about dog training, I guarantee it.
Rally first. Then the retrieve. Then the CGC. Then the tricks. Then return to the Levels and finish them up.
Sunny: I will, perhaps, go on to the Rally Advanced title this year. But first, I want to earn that CD. There are several formidable obstacles to both pursuits:
1) The CD:
A) He needs to learn the long down and the long sit.
B) He needs to learn how to stand and stay.
C) He needs to learn that it's okay for a stranger to touch him while he's in a stand-stay.
D) He needs to learn precise heel position -- my pants seam in front of his front leg.
E) I need to learn precision footwork.
2) The Rally Advanced:
A) He needs a straight back-up for 3 steps.
B) He needs to clear up the confusion that has somehow developed between a left finish and a right
finish.
C) He needs to improve his ability to find Front from a Halt.
3) Finish Shirley Chong's retrieve in preparation for Open competition. We're on Step 17 right now.
4) He also needs a repertoire of tricks, to include, at minimum: Paw, Bang, Beg, Speak, Close Door, Roll Over, and Jump Through a Hoop.
5) Finish up the Levels with him, too.
6) Somewhere in the far, far future, I want to explore freestyle obedience. Maybe not even with Sunny; maybe with Annie. But with an Aussie, for sure.
I will work on obedience during the weekends, heeling daily (I hope), and the retrieve AT LEAST one step per day if not more.
Zsiga: Zsiga is Tim's puppy -- not my responsibility. Nevertheless, I want to fool around with him a little because 1) he's here, 2) I'm responsible for him much of the time while Tim is sleeping or at work, and 3) a German shepherd raised the wrong way can be a liability, and I don't want one. So what I want to do with him is:
1) Move through the Levels, as much as possible.
2) Try out the Clicked Retriever, on a dog where it doesn't matter if it gets screwed up.
3) Handle his feet and ears on a daily basis, so he doesn't grow up to be one of those shepherds who screams bloody murder when his ears or nails have to be attended to.
4) Encourage Tim in every way possible to get him interested in Frisbee. I want a Frisbee dog so bad, and I just don't think I'll have time to do that with Annie.
Annie: Little Arizona Annie Oakley. She's not even here yet. A beautiful, 2-week-old red merle Aussie that is going to be my performance dog in obedience, agility, freestyle, rally, who knows what else. I have such big plans for this dog. The sky is the limit. I bring her home mid-February and will start right in with the Levels as soon as possible. I just can't wait to have that dog at home and have her in my lap and start loving her.
Also, I can't wait for the craziness of having two puppies at home at the same time. I can't wait to do it all with Tim -- my perfect partner. We're just an awesome team.
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