Theorizing

I am working on a horse post. It's about collection. It's really haaaaaard (can you hear the whine?).
In the meantime, a theory about how Brockle has offered some of his behaviors has wriggled through my mind.

This is pure speculation on my part. It does come from the knowledge I've been absorbing since I decided to study dog training and behavior. I would love some feedback.

While learning to read dog body language, I came across a  stern warning again and again, from many different sources.

"A dog who looks directly at you, actually staring at you with a tense facial expression, is another matter indeed. A direct stare is much more likely to be a threat, and if you’re in close proximity to such a dog, it’s wise to slowly look away." PetMD

Recently, I keep finding articles telling me that people and their dogs both get a surge of oxytocin when they look into each others eyes. 

When I met Brockle, I hadn't studied any of this stuff. He stood tall, didn't give ground or cower, his mouth was tight, his ears were erect and his tail hung at half mast, with no welcoming wag. He looked straight into my eyes.

He made direct eye contact again and again.

I'm glad I was ignorant about what his body was saying.

If I go by my beginning book learning, this tense, tight-mouthed dog was challenging me, or even thinking about biting me.

His eye contact was unsettling. It felt like he was desperately trying to tell me something. I decided he was asking me to bust him out. So I did.

Obviously, I'm glad I made the decision. I have learned that I have a tense, nervous dog. He was almost paralyzed with anxiety when we met. I've had to get used to the eye contact, he's either got it or is seeking it almost 24/7. 

Since I was his fourth owner in the first 11 months of his life, he had good reasons for being wound a little tight. 

He is much calmer now even if he still likes to look deep into my eyes. I could humanize him by saying he's looking into my soul, but I have a sneaky suspicion he's an oxcytocin whore.

The training I've been taught to use with Brockle, is to essentially convince him I'm the biggest and best party in town. Hanging with me is better than anything else in the world, and listening to me is better than that. 

This approach has been working just fine, but how does it explain his offered behaviors to assist me? What reward does he get from bugging me to sit down when my blood pressure is dropping? What inspired him to help me get up off the floor, steady me when my balance goes and walk me up and down stairs?

Again, I could say it's because he looooooves me, and I'm not saying he doesn't, but that's too simplistic.

Here's what I'm thinking. Brockle is insecure. He guards me like a peanut butter filled Kong. He also has one of the pokier noses I've ever dealt with. He sniffs me often. Not a dainty little sniff mind you, but a deep, kind of damp snorfling, breaking all personal space boundaries. 

He's obsessed with pits. Not just crotches, but arm pits, elbow pits, ears, nostrils and knee pits. He wants to check my breath several times a day. He's finally quit crotch-diving every person he meets, but has perfected the drive by whiff.

He goes crazy with any kind of wound, on any person, dog or horse. He wants to lick it until it's healed. He chased the kidlet for days trying to get at a semi-infected oozy scrape on her achilles. She kinda hates him, I'm not going to lie.

I'm pretty sure my scent changes when I'm feeling poorly. 

I think the offered behaviors started with Brockle just wanting a snootful of the new odor. He was obnoxious enough to make me sit down. Once I sat, his reward was being able to sniff.

I realized he did this when I was going to crash and began rewarding him with food when he helped me out. It became an established behavior.

He becomes frightened when I'm not steady on my feet. Even more so if I fall. His first instinct was to crowd as close as he could. I think it was more of a "Hold me, I'm scared," than an offer for me to lean on him. 

I re-balanced myself by grabbing his ruff. He was happy because I got back on course and I reinforced him with praise and treats.  

In return, Brockle has made these behaviors his job. It has made him more confident. Is it because he knows what to do to stop situations that used to frighten him? I don't know.

His rude sniffing may be annoying, but I have a better understanding of why he does it. My pits are still off limits, but I have decided he gets all the oxytocin he wants.  

So there's my theory. 

Service Dogs and Monkeys

I have found myself in an interesting situation. Brockle has stepped into the position of my #1 assistant.

He's gone beyond the status of a good companion and protector. He has voluntarily begun to help me manage my Parkinson's.

Parkinson's is a demanding monkey to carry on your back. It hates to be ignored and can get really pissy if it feels it's not being properly treated. I am not a gracious host, especially when my guest is an uninvited, rude monkey that keeps bonking me on the head with a banana. I tend to ignore my monkey's ranting, even though I know I'll be toting it's carcass around for the rest of my life.

My particular monkey likes to make my blood pressure plummet if it feels I should be drinking more water, getting more sleep, or eating better food. I'm not talking feeling a little dizzy. I call it "crashing." I know I've blown it when the room begins to spin, I fall flat on my face and am incapable of even raising my head for up to twenty minutes. Sometimes I pass out, sometimes I don't.

The first week I had Brockle, I crashed at 1:00 a.m. or so. I ended up in the hall. When I came to my new dog was stretched out next to me, with his body pressed against me as close as he could get.

It happened again a few months later. This time, I was outside and it was snowing heavily. It was maybe 3:00 a.m. I came to with Brockle jumping on my head, pulling at my arms and hair and pawing at my body. He stood still and let me use him to stand up, and I balanced off him while we made or way back inside. I hate to think what might have happened if he hadn't been so insistent.

Since then, my meds have been adjusted and I'm doing much better.

Brockle has no faith in modern medicine and has taken it upon himself to manage my care. He can tell before I can when my BP is off kilter. He clings, nuzzles and pesters until I sit down. He hasn't been wrong yet.

Since Brockle has forced me to play nice with my monkey, I decided to start encouraging his natural inclination to help me. It hasn't taken much more than a heartfelt "Good dog," and a few treats.

So far he has learned to help me balance when I'm off kilter, steady me as I go up and down stairs and learned the command "Brace," so I can use him to get up off the ground or out of difficult furniture.  He alerts me when my med alarm goes off -- at five times a day, I'm really good at tuning it out. Well, I used to be, Not so much any more.

I did an awesome face plant in a parking lot last week. It was pure PD vaudeville. One minute I'm walking, then suddenly I'm kissing a puddle of anti-freeze. I was fairly sore and bloody.

The next morning, right in the middle of a detailed and dramatic reenactment of the event, my mother
said, "Would you have fallen if you had Brockle?"

"Probably not. Maybe. But it sure would have been easier to stand back up."

"Don't you think it's time to get a harness?" she asked.

What she means is a service dog harness.

I don't know how many of you are up on the current service dog controversy. I'll start with a brief rundown of the situation and am interested in your thoughts.

First off, here's the legal definition of a service dog:

Service animals are defined as dogs that are individually trained to do work or perform tasks for people with disabilities. Examples of such work or tasks include guiding people who are blind, alerting people who are deaf, pulling a wheelchair, alerting and protecting a person who is having a seizure, reminding a person with mental illness to take prescribed medications, calming a person with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) during an anxiety attack, or performing other duties. Service animals are working animals, not pets. The work or task a dog has been trained to provide must be directly related to the person’s disability. Dogs whose sole function is to provide comfort or emotional support do not qualify as service animals under the ADA.

Then, let's move on to where service dogs are allowed.:

Under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), privately owned businesses that serve the public, such as restaurants, hotels, retail stores, taxicabs, theaters, concert halls, and sports facilities, are prohibited from discriminating against individuals with disabilities. The ADA requires these businesses to allow people with disabilities to bring their service animals onto business premises in whatever areas customers are generally allowed.


Here's the dilemma:
If you are not certain that an animal is a service animal, you may ask the person who has the animal if it is a service animal required because of a disability. Although a number of states have programs to certify service animals, you may not insist on proof of state certification before permitting the service animal to accompany the person with a disability.

What is happening is people are claiming their dogs are service dogs and taking them with them wherever they go.

Part of me says, "So?"

Except, from what I understand, if a person is enough of an asshat to fake a disability, they're generally stupid/obnoxious/jerky enough to not bother training the dog.

A professionally trained service dog lays quietly under the table while in a restaurant, doesn't fight with other dogs or pee on the plants in a theater, doesn't bark, scare or threaten other people, you know, has manners. Then, on top of all that, it does whatever it's job is.

Fakers are causing all kinds of crap. It puts those of us without easily recognized issues under constant scrutiny.

I can't help but wonder why there isn't a standardized test to certify a service dog. Not for the disability they assist with, but for basic civilized behavior.

There are strong arguments from the professionals who train service dogs. It's an industry in itself, complete with breeding programs, and very specific training.

If there was a standardized test, then anybody could take it and theoretically, pass it. Would that undermine the work of a professional?

Personally, I think it could and should expand the market. If I could find a class on training my own service dog I'd be all over it. With required certification, the classes would be full. This opens the door to training for the actual service the dog would perform. The inevitable wash-outs would provide customers for an already trained dog.

We had a kennel here in Colorado that sold diabetic alert dogs. These dogs, when properly trained can save the live of their owner. Unfortunately, this particular kennel didn't bother to actually train the dogs to do anything. People were paying $20,000 dollars or so for a happy house pet.

I think regulation makes sense in every direction.

For Brockle and I, it's not going to be that complicated. We'll get our harness and start slowly and easily working our way into a pair that can go everywhere.
We're going to get his CGC (Canine Good Citizen) certification this summer. Then we'll move on to Rally, and the Community Canine, an advanced CGC test (http://www.akc.org/dog-owners/training/akc-community-canine/test-items/).

My fear of being embarrassed will make damn sure he can cope with each step. We'll go as far as we're able, and I think we'll be fine.

As far as continuing to progress at home, we're working on picking things I drop off the floor, and ignoring people and dogs.

Somebody asked me, "Have you thought about getting a real service dog?"

I thought about everything Brockle and I have worked out between us already.
"I've already got one," I said.

Not Your Average Cesar Salad

WARNING!!! WARNING!!! WARNING!!!!

This is not about bashing Cesar. I'm not analyzing his training methods or doing a comparative between his methods and Victoria Stilwell, or any other behavioral or training method.
This is about making choices about the dogs we have in our lives.
I've got some questions I'd like some input on that I think are thought provoking--none of them have to do with choosing an approach to dog training.
If you hate him so much you just can't keep your opinion to yourself, please go to one of the 800,000 sites, blogs, links, discussion threads, etc. that debate his techniques ad nauseum, vent until you feel better, then please come back here and join the discussion.I value your opinion on these questions and would love your input.

My hoped for discussion is about the owners, trainers and instructors of Weber Training Stable
(http://www.webertrainingstables.com/), Jim And Joy, and their dogs.

I suggest watching all of Part 1 and 2. If nothing else, here's some bits and pieces that I feel are relevant.

Part 1: Watch the father, Jim, talking to Cesar, starting at 2:30. Look at Cesar's reaction.I feel completely understands the father's desire to shoot the dog. I said understands, which does not necessarily mean condones. At 3:33 look at Cesar's WTF? reaction to the wife's (Joy) reaction to the situation.

At 4:30 you get a taste of the dogs in action and how Joy and Jim handle them. At 7:00 he evaluates the situation. (No mention made by Joy of Rotts behavior before Bulldog started showing aggression. Going after horses and other dogs is learned behavior).

At 9:09 Joy states the dog is like one of her children. At 9:20 she asks, would you get rid of one of your children to keep your husband happy?

Part 2: At 3:02 watch how the dog goes after the horse while wearing a muzzle.. At 4:22 I feel like Cesar is having another WTF? moment. "You have the dog in the back with the baby inside?"


Here are the questions that came to my mind.

1. Do you guys want me to hold my thoughts until after we discuss this? I'm giving my gut reactions to this situation, but I haven't truly thought this through yet. I promise to behave, as long as the comments are about the discussion and not Cesar's training methods.

2. Does the father have a valid point when he says he wants to destroy the dog?

I would have shot the dog after my child was hospitalized. If my husband, a blood relative or one of you had put my child in the hospital I'd be loading my 12 gauge.

3. Should this couple own these dogs?

These are not typical barn dogs. I feel that for this couple, or maybe it's just Joy, these are "Ego Dogs." They were not chosen for the jobs they are bred for, they were chosen for the status the owner felt they gave her.This is so unfair to the dogs. That alone tells me they don't have the knowledge to handle them.
 
4. What differences do you see in the behavior of the two dogs? The Rott seems to be a happy idiot and nothing more. The bulldog scares the crap out of me.

5. Does Joy's statement that the dog is like one of her children tell you she loves dogs, or she is a sociopathic control freak?
 She asks, would you get rid of one of your children to keep your husband happy? The fact that she sees the situation this way gives me chills. It has nothing to do with making her husband happy, it has everything to do with allowing her son to live with a dog who has grabbed him by the throat.
Let's give it to her, and pretend the bulldog is one of her kids.

6.  If one of your children attacked another of your children, once, so aggressively he was hospitalized, and another time put a knife to his throat, would you keep that child in the house?
I would remove the murderous little shit and place him in a psychiatric facility. Then I would go take some intensive parenting classes.

7. Would you take your horse to this facility for training, or let your children take lessons from this couple?

8. How do you feel about the dog and the child sharing the back seat of the car?
I wanted to call social services.
My dogs, Charlie and Brockle, have a love/hate relationship. Periodically, Charlie pushes Brockle too far, Brockle gets mad and bites Charlie. Although it's only one bite, he draws blood.
Twice, Brockle bit Charlie so severely he scalped him. I mean actually scalped him.
Both times they were together in the back seat of the car.
It became very clear, very fast, that the close confinement was creating enough stress to create a huge problem between my guys. Charlie was the loser both times.
He survived and Brockle now has a gate between him and Charlie when we're in the car.

9. Do you think the child is safe now?

10. If not, do you think any training method can make this situation safe?

Now I have a question about the show itself. NOT THE TRAINING METHODS!!!

In Cesar's early years he would tell people, honestly, how he read their situation.
He would tell them if he felt the dog was a danger, or if they didn't have the temperament to handle their dog.
With this new program, it seems to have gone out the window.
It appeared to me he was, well, horrified by the behavior of the bulldog. Excuse me, let me make that the behavior of the owners.
I saw unease, distaste, incredulity, fear (for the child) and frustration cross his face, yet he never said anything. In the old days, he would have offered to take the dog and then given Jim and Joy a mild mannered, gentle Pit bull they could handle. In a case like this, he would give them a severe lecture about always putting children before dogs. I've seen him do it more than once.
Now, nothing was said
Why do you think this is happening?

Okay. Go.

In all fairness, I just found this update.

http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/wild/cesar-911/videos/case-file-pupdate-gunny/

Does this change your perspective?

I have to think about it a little.

Love Them By Protecting Them. Protect Them by Training Them

We have a serial killer running rampant in Colorado Springs.

In the last month he has opened fire three times on apparently random victims in different parts of the city.

One died, one survived and the third was missed entirely.

The only common thread is the victims of this lunatic are friendly, off leash dogs that approach him.

According to Denver 7 news, the first dog was shot January 5 at Penstemon Park in Colorado Springs. Police say the dog's owner told police a man fired several shots at the dog, killing it and then ran off.

A second dog, an elderly bulldog, was shot at a week later on Shooks Run Trail. The owner heard the shot and saw a man running away. In that case, the dog wasn't hit. 

Then last week, Robbie, a stray that was cared for by several households on the same street,  was shot. He survived.

The shooter has only been identified as male.

I apologize for being overly dramatic, ah, never mind, I take that back. If this man is willing to shoot dogs in broad daylight, with their owners right there, it seems to me the dog owners themselves could easily become the next target. He has to be crazy. 

Each dog was off leash. They were friendly dogs, who felt comfortable approaching strangers. 

This is an accepted behavior for many dog owners. There are others who are more extreme. These are the belligerent, aggressive dog owners who demand the world love their dogs, whether they're humpers, droolers, jumpers,or even biters. If a person takes issue with being greeted by such a dog, then they are considered the problem, even in a public place with a leash law.

Owning Brockle has really opened my eyes to how dogs affect other people. He scares the crap out of many. 

It's not his fault, my fault or theirs. 

He is well-behaved and minds his own business. He wasn't always, so I've dealt with reactions to him on both sides of the coin. 

I've come to realize I don't want my dogs to scare anybody. I don't want anybody to feel threatened by them, unless of course they try to hurt me or break into my house. I also want to protect them from dog fights, cars coming from nowhere and getting lost in the mountains. Trusting they won't bolt after livestock, game or dogs, disappear on a hike or dart into the street is only possible if they are well-trained. The alternative is to keep them leashed. I go back and forth between leashed and loose, depending on the circumstance.

I have gone beyond a basic recall. I'm teaching all of my dogs to not approach anybody unless they are invited. Even then, I want them to stay with me until I say OK. 

It's not perfect yet, but we're closing in on it. Charlie and Brockle are about 90%, the other two, not so much.

I've always felt assuming  strangers love my dogs as much as I do would be presumptuous. I've always felt it is my responsibility to control all of my animals, and not put anybody other than myself in a position of dealing with them.

These days, at least in my city, doing anything else can get them killed.

Open Horses

It wasn't until I entered the world of reined cowhorses that I heard the term "open horse." The term was closely followed by "non-pro horse."

It seemed there were two kinds of cowhorse. Those suitable for open riders, the people that competed at a professional level, and those meant for the non-pros, or the people who didn't ride for a living.

It took me years to understand what the difference between an open caliber horse and a non-pro horse really was.

An open horse can reach the absolute upper levels of competition and win. Their agility, instinct and drive are so incredibly high they can hold their own against all others. They are lightening quick and hard to ride, potentially impossible to stick if the horsemanship doesn't match. Open horses are ridden by open riders, trainers who do nothing else but ride.

A non-pro horse can compete in a non-pro world and succeed, without pile-driving their rider, our clients and income, into the dirt.

At least that was how I understood it then. It's all true mind you, but there is much, much more.

When I bought Madonna, there was a lot riding on my purchase. I had sold Sonita in order to get my next project. She had brought me enough money to buy something current, something bred right, something that would advance my career.

There was more. I had strapped on my big girl chaps, and sold the horse I had poured sweat and thought and blood and guts into, to further my career. I had never sold one of my personal horses before. I needed my next horse to somehow stuff my intestines back into the huge hole selling Sonita had left. I needed an open horse.

I showed K some photos of a Reminic bred gelding. He was sharp, bright bay, came from a breeder we knew and respected and even as a long yearling, had that edgy look I had learned to appreciate in the show pen.

"That could be a nice horse," K agreed, "I'm not sure it's the direction you want to go."

"Where do I want to go?"

"I'd like to see you on something softer, a horse that's biddable, that you'll have success on right away. A Chic O Lena would be a good choice. They're easy to ride and can still take you where you want to go."

I knew he had a Chic O Lena bred filly, but it was too easy a jump to make. I tried to get to the root of where he was going. K spoke in so many layers, it always paid to think things through before answering him. "You don't think I can handle a Reminic?"

"You can handle a Reminic. I just think it's time you showed something that showcases your talent as a trainer instead of your ability to survive."

I ended up buying the Chic O Lena and will be eternally grateful for the push. Madonna is everything he promised and more, but in the back of my insecure mind, I decided I wasn't worthy of the elusive open horse. I was being delegated to a life of riding non-pro horses and hoping to squeak into the money with the real trainers.

I have run into the same scenario in the dog world. I've been reading some training blogs and breed blogs, one of which is dedicated to Malinois and Dutch Shepherds.

These dogs are edgy, athletic, lightening quick and protective. They are bred for a job and God help the world around them if they don't have one.

They are, as far as I can tell, "open dogs."

Reading some of the posts and the following comments made me uneasy. There was a tone to them that was very familiar. I've been retired from the horse biz long enough to have forgotten that tone. I sorted it out though.

For many, there is a mystic quality to horse training. The idea that there is something magical about someone who can get horses to not only be model citizens, but spin, float, jump, slide, or move in amazing rhythms.

For some, it creates a feeling that trainers are better than them, an elevated human with a deep understanding of animals.

As trainers, we often nurture that feeling, after all, it makes us feel good, secures our income and helps justify the endless, grueling, mind numbing hours that go into becoming mystical.

I'm going to be honest here. It's a bunch of bullshit.

Becoming a horse trainer takes full time dedication to horses. Becoming a good trainer involves actually riding them, and it takes working and riding hundreds of horses. It needs to be an obsession about what makes them tick, so strong that the long hours, low pay and high injury rate mean nothing.  You might need to be crazy to be a trainer, but there is no magic.

There is the ever elusive feel, an ability to absorb and adjust to the animal--it's an asset believe me. It's still not magic. If I was into cars, feel would make me a good mechanic. Without feel, both mechanical and training ability  are still in reach, it just involves more sweat equity.

I am picking up the same vibe on the dog sites.

Here are a couple of quotes:

"Well said and in short most people lack the intelligence to train and give the Malinois what it needs to be mentally healthy and physically fulfilled."

"...our permissive, anything goes society has filtered down to our pets. no rules, no limits - that is the American way. our dogs, our children our society suffers for it."

 I don't know about you guys, but I read this and all I absorb is, if I can't handle a Malinois, then I'm stupid and my children are spoiled brats. 

Which leads me straight to, don't tell me I shouldn't own a Malinois, I'm going to adopt that 18- month-old male I saw on CL yesterday. That'll show 'em.

The real truth is, if you are interested in a breed of dog like this, then they need the same obsessive dedication it takes to become a pro in the horse world.

Trust me, there are stupid dog trainers with crappy kids, who can still turn out a high quality police dog. 

We crave to be as savvy as a trainer of national IPO champions or as wise as a dressage master. Of course we do, because we're convinced they have magical abilities we never will. 

It's easier to envy special powers than it is to dig in and do the work. 

It's easier to let ourselves feel superior to others than to reveal we're schlubs just like the next guy. 

The disservice comes to the animals.

Instead of Malinois being desirable military and police dogs, to be admired for the work they do, they are becoming yet another breed to elevate our place in society. If I can control this animal, than I control my environment. I am smarter, faster, stronger and better looking than all of you Lab owners.

The ruination of the breed soon follows.

It happens with horses. Horses are started by people with a video and good intentions. Young show prospects are bought by wealthy first-year riders, because of how they look under the trainer. They're trained, right?

If we could disconnect the status somehow, things would go better for our animals.

I finally understand what an open horse is. It is a horse with the ability to win big in the show pen. It can be mean, crazy, bad-legged, or colic every Thurs. like clockwork, none of these things matter. All that matters is it can win.

A good non-pro horse is kind, well balanced, mannerly and forgiving. A good one can still compete and win an open class. A good non-pro horse is priceless.

Most people work at something other than reining or fly ball for a living. Good thing, because us trainers need your dollah dollah bills. 

If we could somehow quit inferring that people with less knowledge than us were inferior, then maybe we would quit thinking the way to equality (superiority) is through the breed or the ride.

WTF Dog Park People? Or, The Mystery of the Moronic Dog Owners

What is wrong with people at dog parks?

Not all, of course. My park is not technically a dog park. It's an open space, where, in control, off leash dogs are allowed. The majority of the dog/owner combos I run into are affable, social, Lab/Golden Retriever/Doodle/Laid Back Suburban Owner types.

As a matter of fact, Brockle tends to be the resident bad boy. He likes to periodically bolt, fly like the angel of death straight at some hapless innocent and roll them like a Firestone All Weather tire dropped down a  gully.

BUT.

Because he has this despicable behavior, he stays leashed the majority of the time and is going through some serious training. I only release him to play ball or work on his obedience and recall when the park is empty.

He spends lots of time on the long line, learning to resist temptation and tolerate the random "Don't worry, he's friendly," dogs who approach him anyway.

I accept that my dog is a bully. I understand his primary goal in life is to protect me, the second being to play soccer with the occasional King Charles Cavalier Spaniel. I keep him contained AND under control.

In return, I protect him. If a dog charges, I step in front of Brockle and shout "No! Bad Dog!" It has worked so far. Until yesterday.

I stopped at the open space on the way home from errands for a quick fetch.

There were no dogs, so we ran out and began. Brockle was keen on the ball and kept his focus, even when a man and his Airedale came into the park. They were a good 100 yards away. When I saw the Airedale coming at a run and the owner doing NOTHING I called Brockle in and put him on his leash.

He was awesome. He tolerated the rude young dog extremely well. I was proud. The owner arrived.

"Don't worry, he's friendly." he said.

"Mine isn't.  Your dog is lucky mine is well trained," I replied.

The owner said nothing.

We headed off in a different direction, putting enough distance between us to resume our game. I let Brockle off leash.

Zoom! Airedale came flying up behind us and yanked Brockle's ball right out of the thrower thingy, which I had just extended behind me.

"Erp!" I said.

 I kept my balance with the ever-graceful Parkinson's flying pinwheel. The Airedale turned and ran back to his owner with the ball, who still said NOTHING.

Brockle heard my squawk, tore past and nailed Don't Worry He's Friendly to the ground. Charlie joined in and they proceed to beat the crap out of DWHF. By the time I got there, Brockle had made his point, taken his ball and came to me.

I told them, "Good dog."

The owner said, "DWHF really likes balls."

His now terrified Airedale learned that bad things can happen at the dog park. He learned his owner will do absolutely nothing to help him. DWHF is now well on his way to the world of dog aggression.

We dusted that one off. I threw a few more times, then ran through some quick obedience to re-center Brockle and decided to leave.

With both dogs leashed, we approached my car. A woman with a BC, on-leash, and a man with a large Aussie, off-leash, were headed towards us on the same path.

I switched paths, I was done with socialization practice. Because of the Airedale incident I made the mistake of watching Brockle instead of the off-leash dog.

You guessed it. BAM! The Aussie came flying straight into us and I was caught in the middle of a huge dog fight. Brockle broke off and jumped behind me. He looked at me with the clearest "WTF?" I've ever seen.

I tried my dog blocking technique and yelled "No!" at the Aussie. He hesitated, then stepped around me, intent on Brockle, who threw all our hard earned dog tolerance out the window and launched at the enemy.

The Aussie's owner stepped in, grabbed his dog by the collar.

"Brockle, OFF!" I yelled.

Bless his pea-picking heart, he released and came to heel.

That jackass never said a thing, just drug his dog off.

I am done with the dog park. Done, done, done.

My dog is awesome.

Just Can't Stop That Trainer Brain.

I've been absorbing all things dog with the same obsession I did horses, many years ago when it became clear I was a horse trainer.

I was asked by a reader when I knew I was ready to call myself a horse trainer. I took lessons from a trainer (pre-Big K) who spelled it out for me.

1. I had three horses, other than my own I was training for outside clients.
2. I was required by AQHA, NRCHA, NRHA and NCHA to show only in the open classes.
3. Horse training was my primary source of income on my taxes.

Until then, I said I gave riding lessons and sometimes rode for people. I'd been doing that off and on since I was 16. I was almost 40 when I accepted the moniker of horse trainer/riding instructor.

When it was spelled out that I was in fact teaching horses stuff that other people didn't know, a crushing sense of responsibility hit me. I only knew what I knew...I wasn't current on any of the show stuff, or the new horse whispery stuff, I was just an old school, trail ride, riding club participant.

My obsessive, guilt ridden personality latched on and I began to learn. I worked for free if the horse was a chance at a new experience. I schmoozed with trainers, hounded the ones that would let me, read, watched videos and practiced. My theory was (still is) if somebody knew more than me in any horse-related area than they had something to offer and I was going to pry it out of them.

By the time the big K got hold of me, I had done the pleasure horse/western riding/ trail thing, was still reining and had taken every bad mannered problem horse I could get my hands on. I started lots of youngsters and could turn out a calm, rideable horse with three good gaits, leads and a stop in 6 weeks. I had a pretty steady business. Thank goodness I had done the preparatory work, because my education was just beginning.

So here I am, doing it again with dogs. Brockle is the reason why.

Here's a list of the descriptions given to me of my dog from the professionals I've encountered since I've gotten him.

Scary smart. High drive. Reactive. Sensitive. Bully. Resource Guarding (I'm the resource BTW). Owner focused. OCD -- as in Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Gentle. Kind. Dog-aggressive. Anxious. Dirty Biter. Tentative. Bold. Problem solving.

None of these descriptions were said in a negative way. It might help explain why I needed help. It is definitely the reason I have been immersed in dog behavior studies.

I'm keeping a journal with the goal of logging 1000 hours of dog behavior observation. Some of it is my own group of dogs. For now, I'm not calling them a pack, more on that later. I have four. They give me a nice variety in size, age, and attitude. I'm studying dog park dogs too, but it won't be my sole focus for behavior. Dog park dogs are a type within themselves. I'm also looking at country dogs, single dogs and hopefully, will get a chance to study some of the strays in the East End of Houston Texas this spring. They've been on their own long enough to be multi-generational.

I'm honing my observation skills and learning the correct terminology from the FB page - Observation Skills for Training Dogs (https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=135105946566219&ref=br_tf). Thanks Nannette.

Where am I at now?

The #1 difference between dog training and horse training.

Dogs want to move to you for their release.
Horses want to move away.

Says a lot, doesn't it?

Conversations About Dogs with Dog Folk

   Annie Wilkes was closer to sixty than fifty. Quiet in a crowd, even with her own group. She had wary eyes, and the prairie wind constantly blew her tousled, unkempt hair into her eyes. Her shaky health made her unsure, the betrayal of her body made her restless and sad.
    "I had no idea what I was getting into. He wasn't even the dog I went to see.  He's the smartest dog I've ever had in my life. Also the most arrogant, mischievous and neediest, all wrapped up in a fluffy OCD package," she said.

   Mad Maxine was intelligent, sleek, beautiful and fit. She wore black, it highlighted her thick strawberry blond ponytail, pale skin and shiny black dog. A military career made her confident and gave her very good posture. She moved with power and grace, and was completely intimidating. Her dog was as lean and fit as she.
   "Your dog should be working on a ranch, people don't think before they get a dog, they get one because it's pretty, then everybody pays. If a person needs a pet than they should get a lap dog with medium intelligence at best," she said.

"Adult rescue dogs are notoriously unsuited for farm and ranch work. They have enough to overcome to become a decent pet, much less become a working dog,"

"The reason they're so screwed up is because people get dogs they have no business having," Mad Maxine said.

"Exactly my point. My dog was a three time return to the pound when I adopted him. He was never, ever going to see a ranch. Now that he's with me, he's been exposed to horses, cattle, goats, barn fowl...funny thing is, he has absolutely no interest in any of them. His primary focus is to keep me safe. He's the one bright light in a very difficult time of my life."

A long, uneasy silence ensued. Annie Wilkes raked her hair back with her fingers.

The young woman squared her shoulders and put a hands on each knee . It was clear she wasn't the type to fiddle with her hair. "When I picked my dog I knew exactly what I was looking for. I wanted a hiking companion. The bitch was a purebred shepherd and the stud cleared an eight-foot fence."

"I guess you knew they'd be athletic."

 "The pups were structurally correct with good temperaments. I visited the litter several times, sat with them and watched them. I didn't want the biggest or the smallest. I rejected the ones that crawled all over me and the ones that were shy."

"That was certainly pragmatic of you."

"There were four that were right in the middle. One was happy and playful when I messed with her, but when I ignored her, she walked off a few feet, sat down and studied me while I played with the other pups. I knew she was the one and she's been perfect."

"That's exactly how my Dad picked his hunting dogs when I was growing up. He could pick outstanding dogs. I tend to go with my gut."

"You mean you are completely emotional instead of realistic."

"I think it's more of an instinctive feel that I trust instead of following a guide from a how-to-pick-a-puppy article off the 'net. I was one of those kids that stray dogs followed home and I got along with all of them. I like dogs and they like me. I had specifics in mind when we chose each other too. I wanted a big dog, I like herding breeds, I knew I would eventually need a service dog, so I wanted brains. I need to walk an hour every day. He definitely met my criteria."

"Everybody likes dogs. I just think it's unfair to them if they live in a world they don't fit in. There's so much risk when you adopt a stray. You don't know what's been done with them or if they're structurally sound. I'd like to hunt my next dog. I'll probably go to Europe and get a couple of good ones, I'll raise them to be proper hunting dogs, I won't have to deal with unexpected problems, like shyness, aggression, or separation anxiety-- I'll know they're worth my investment." Mad Maxine stretched and crossed her legs at the ankles.

"I completely understand, "Annie Wilkes said. "If I was going to pursue this," she waved her hand towards the field where they worked their dogs, "I would invest in a sport specific breed. The thing is, I would never have learned this discipline, or met this group of people, if my dog hadn't brought me here.We came to resolve the training issues that he came with, found some talent, and now I'm learning something brand new."

"I'm only here because I ran out of things to teach my dog," Mad Maxine said." She has obstacles down pat, obedience was a walk in the park, Frisbee is a given, I have to keep her occupied." She reached out and stroked her dog's sleek, black coat.

Lenny Small was close to the older woman's  age, battered by life, gentle and a little tired. He followed the conversation with interest. His dog was a lovely shepherd, gentle like her owner. He leaned forward and looked earnestly at the young woman.
"Have you seen Annie's dog work? He's got the best obedience in the group and his protection work is coming on like a train. He's a nice dog."

"Thanks Lenny," Annie Wilkes smiled and leaned back in her chair. "You've missed a lot while you were waiting for your dog to heal from her surgery. My dog has come a long way. The guys seem to enjoy figuring out his off the wall mind-set. Your dog tore an ACL?"

"Both hind legs." The young woman grimaced.

"Wow, that's awful. How old is she?"

"Almost three."

"That's terrible. I'm so sorry. I hadn't even heard of an ACL surgery before I came here. Thank goodness our trainer, Clyde Beatty  taught me how important it is to work young dogs low until they're two. It never would have occurred to me to wait to let my dog jump for his ball or over obstacles if it wasn't for him."

"It doesn't matter, I got her to hike with, so my goal is to get her to where she can hike again and be happy with that. I'll make sure my next dog has the breeding to stay sound."

"So you think it's poor breeding that made her tendons snap instead of a training decision, or, like it could have been if I hadn't listened to Clyde, a lack of knowledge?"

The pause grew until Lenny Small broke in.
"Breeding doesn't always run true. Look at my girl here. She's Czech bred, from a long line of competitive and working dogs, but she has no bite, none at all. Her brother, on the other hand, is a maniac."

Clyde Beatty entered the conversation.
"There's more to the story than that. Our "maniac" was a middle-of--the-litter puppy. He was loaded with prey drive, but had a decent temperament. He was almost two before he turned on, and then we got more than we needed. He's a great dog, but we still don't trust him with the public. Sometimes you can have genetics and training in place and still not get what you were looking for."

"This comes back to the draw for adoption or rescue," Annie said."I was able to assess my dog's temperament and conformation before I committed, because he was older. I'm not an expert, but once a dog is a year or so I can spot things like bad hips and shoulders or erratic behavior."

"Except you said yourself, you came here because he was much more dog than you expected and you've talked about his anxiety and separation problems," the young woman said.

"That's true, I think where you're missing my point when you assume I care about those things. I like dogs. I like learning new things. I'm as interested in learning how to help his separation anxiety as I am teaching him to stop an intruder.When I get a dog, I can't wait to see where they take me. In my lifetime I learned to aim a few inches below a ducks feet in order to make my shot. No matter how I try, I jump when I pull the trigger. If I hadn't been hunting over a couple of good field labs I never would have known that. I learned when a good pair of vermin dogs is on the hunt, one is the runner and the other lies in wait. I've watched them strategise in order to hunt prairie dogs, pigeons, rabbit and mice. I learned a good basset hound can follow a three day old track and will never learn to quit getting high centered on a fallen tree. Now I'm learning how to train my own service dog and if you decide to try to hurt me, well, my dog will eat your ass." She smiled down at her dog. "This dog is a new adventure every day."

"I guess I want more control of my outcome," Mad Maxine said.

"You told me you ran out of things to do with your dog, which brought you here."

"Except I wanted an intelligent dog, I chose her on purpose."

"You certainly succeeded, just look at the adventures she has brought you."

Lenny Small looked over at Annie Wilkes and fondled the ears of his adored dog, who defied her breeding with her gentle soul. Annie smiled back, took the ball from her wound up, hairy beast and drew back to throw it out onto the field, taking care to keep her big galoot from stomping the sore hind legs of the beautiful black shepherd mix.

The conversation drifted to whether a Beuceron was better suited for guard or protection work as the sun rose high over the training field.

Finding Balance -- Thinking beyond common sense.

Last night I watched this: The Paw Project on Netflix (http://www.pawproject.org/).

My thoughts were just spinning by the time the documentary on declawing cats was done. My head was so abuzz I had to quit writing the next Spirit installment and share this, because it parallels a line of thinking I've been working my way through for a long time.

Once I've gotten through this, I'll get back to my horse story. The thing is, in the past week, I caught an infection making it's merry way through my Rat Terrier, Charlie, just in the nick of time. I'm talking a serious nick.

"If you had let this go one more day you would have been at the emergency vet tomorrow," my vet told me.

 Which would have been the 4th. Any of you who have been to a city weekend emergency vet clinic know what I'm talking about. Six months of hay $$ out of savings to pay them, that's what.

Normal Mugs, if there is such a thing, would have noticed the signs of Charlie being off at least a week ago. He was off his feed, scooting his butt across the ground and way too quiet. My automatic reaction was, worms.

In the good old days, Charlie massacred so many of the vermin population at the barn, he needed to be wormed twice a year. If I didn't keep up, he would show the above behaviors for a day or two and then start pooping worms all over the place.

So I wormed him. He didn't feel better. We went to the vet and in short order, began treatment for an infected anal gland. Poor Charlie.

Here's the thing. Normal Mugs would have noticed the symptoms and responded within a day or two, not a week. Normal Mugs would have thought, Charlie doesn't hunt much anymore, he's really quiet, we should see the vet.

Why wasn't I thinking like Normal Mugs? Because I have been submersed in the fascinating psychology of dogs. I mean buried.

Since I landed a dog who needed real, well thought out training and behavior modification, and I decided to write about it,  I have been sucked into the world of dog brains, dog/human relations, positive and negative reinforcement, eugenics, blah, blah, blah.

With my own dogs I have been thinking about pack behavior, body language and What are they REALLY thinking.

Since my right hand dog Dinah died, the pack has been a mess. Brockle wants to be boss, but he's a micro-managing lunatic, and has been doing a crappy job. Charlie has been staying out of the way, he's a born minion and he knows it.

Ever since I've started watching, thinking and observing my dogs in a new light, my common sense has flown out the window. So much so, I almost endangered my dog and my hay money. Mania Mugs was ruling the roost.

Take this declawing the cat thing. I was a kid when I first heard there was such a thing. I had never even had a cat, but my immediate thought was, But they use their claws to protect themselves-- so that's stupid. As a kid, I had common sense.

I kept the same opinion for many years and eventually had a few cats share space with me. I knew people who declawed their cats, usually because of new furniture. I also observed, all on my own, that declawed cats were almost always, "no-seeums" cats. They were afraid of everything. Which to me, make perfect sense, because they didn't have their claws. I jumped to the conclusion that getting their claws taken off made them crazy and never considered declawing a cat. Ever.

Maybe my facts weren't completely accurate, but I was close, just by using common sense.

I started researching dogs, thunderstorms and fireworks.

I read from trainers who suggested ignoring the anxious behavior and sticking with known routines so the dog learns storms aren't scary.

I read from trainers who went to great lengths explaining that reassurance isn't the same as reinforcing behaviors.

Both sides went to great lengths to vilify the other.

Which was weird, since both sides made it clear that rushing to your pet, smothering them with kisses and becoming overly emotional WILL become reinforcement.

Both sides went to great lengths to provide their long and involved training techniques.

Thankfully, Normal Mugs made an appearance.

In the past, when I got a new dog, I always paid attention during their first thunderstorm.

Bolters were put in the car, or a secure room, with an article of my clothing and a favorite toy. Anxious dogs were allowed to cling as much as they wanted while I proceeded with my day. They would get a kind word and a pet, then I'd show, by example, that it wasn't so bad.

The bolters were always welcome to become a clinger and eventually they always made that choice. The clingers got better or they didn't. Common sense told me air pressure, noise, whatever, bothered them and I made sure they were safe and left it at that.

Charlie is a leaner, Snocone doesn't notice and Brockle runs outside and barks at the heavens. If he had a fist he's be shaking it.

Dobby is my daughter's nervous, twitchy, loud, opinionated Min Pin/Italian Greyhound cross. We have been spending looooots of time together. If Dobby wants my attention, he has all four feet on the floor and is quiet. Period.

Thunderstorms terrify him.

Yesterday was hardest on Dobby. He trembled and shook.  He didn't run for the hugs and kisses and consolation he's used to. He chose to sit next to me.On the floor. Quiet. Not asking for more reassurance than leaning against my leg.

Dobby chose common sense.

I think I will too. Thinking and learning are good things. But it's easy to get lost in a new concept or idea and ignore the things you know in your gut. I call it Horse Whispering Syndrome.

You know what I mean, we've all done it. That first taste of magic when our horse joins up makes us a little crazy. We want more of this magic and dump everything we knew before in order to learn it. For some, we eventually remember, Hey, I knew how to saddle a horse and lope around the arena before I started whispering. Maybe I knew some other stuff too. Then reason seeps back in and hopefully, we find a balance between the practical knowledge we had before and the new stuff we're learning.

I'll keep watching my pack, observing their behavior and trying to find the best training and behavior shaping approaches for all of us. In the meantime, I hope I can keep my head on straight. Poor Charlie and his infected butt are counting on me.

More Dogs - This is GREAT STUFF

WHOA - Check this out. Thanks Squirrelgurl!

Night Watch

Oh my goodness, am I in love with this blog.

Ozhorse, who occasionally is lured away from her life working on a sheep and cattle ranch with dogs  to talk with us, turned me on to the idea that Brockle is a "boundary dog."

If you are interested, she sent me a series of links describing this type of herding dog. You can find them in the comments section of the previous post.

He works a boundary around his charges, which for him,when we are outside, are me, Charlie, and whoever might be walking, hiking with me. In the house, it includes all regular residents, human, dog, tortoise, whatever, if there are outliers present, but only me when its just us.

The more I'm reading, the truer he runs to this type of dog.

I am clearly his primary focus. I am a job he takes on 24/7 and although I've felt there was a need to help him relax, only now am I becoming aware of how exhausting his self appointed task is.

It clearly explains his inconsistency during his protection training.

His defense is awesome, perfect, a little scary. His prey (where he runs after the intruder) is not. He has shown little interest in going after the bad guy once he is running away. Once he has him running, he sniffs the ground, looks around and comes back to me. Why run him down and bite him if he has left the boundary?

Can't wait to talk about this at practice.

So.

This gives me a direction and some goals to clarify things between Brockle and I.

I need control over his perimeter. He needs to know he is allowed to guard within a perimeter I set, not him. Which means he has to ignore other dogs, people, whatever, that pass us, show interest in us, etc. as long as they are outside the perimeter I have chosen.

He has to stay within the perimeter I set.

He has to allow people, dogs etc.into the perimeter when I say so.

I have to set our new guidelines without worrying him and respect his need to watch over me.

Typical Scene: Charlie- "Man, I'm whipped, gonna nap while I can." Brockle- "So... tired...must...keep...eyes...on...Janet..."

I need to give him a place where he is off duty. This was a really good tip. At the barn, he is not allowed to run loose, my BO is terrified of him, even though he has always behaved and has no interest in harassing stock or people. He has his own space in my car. It's in the back, with a gate, so he can't jump in the seat with Charlie and eat his head.

When we're at the barn, I open the hatch, and tie him. He can jump out and in, but that's it. He has a bed and water. He loves the back of the car. When it's open and he's tied, he is calm and content. He watches the activity, but doesn't whine or try to follow. When he's nervous (he's afraid of horses-another post another day) he will retreat to his place in the car. Click! goes my brain, he needs one in the house too.

He needs to be encouraged to hold his line (my perimeter) but not necessarily disciplined for breaking it. Brockle spends his life torn between two worlds, trying to do what I want, and trying to manipulate me into giving him what he wants (his ball). This gives me an entirely different way of looking at his down/stay...I think, if I learn to use the line I'll be honoring his instincts, but gaining control at the same time, and our issues will fade. He obeys 100% when it makes sense.

He works much better with well timed praise in a low, gentle voice, and an occasional ball toss than with excitement, rapid fire commands, or a high, squeaky pitch. Anything squeaky worries and excites him. I've always thought he equates it to injured or baby animals.

How do I get these things? Hell, I just don't know. The primary decoy I work with at Schutzhund (a very wise and thoughtful man) has put a lot of thought into getting him working prey. He has made it a game, and we work in increments. Right now, all he has to do is hit the end of his leash (he refuses to hit hard enough to unbalance me, and Decoy Jim has accepted that) and bark with authority. This drives away the bad guy (decoy), he receives high praise and we end it. This new information should add a bunch to our work. Lucky for me Brockle is an interesting study for these guys. They enjoy working with a dog who thinks so far out of their Schutzhund box and acknowledge his heart and bravery, even if he doesn't have traditional reactions. They still call him "Mama's boy," but now it's making much more sense.

Where I could still use some suggestions...

How do I teach him to guard the boundary I decide on, instead of him?

Should I teach a specific command for allowing people and dogs in his boundary? If so, how? What degree of watchfulness do I accept from him? Alert without tension would be ideal.

From your suggestions and my thoughts, tell me if I'm off, I need:

A specific command to "Guard." - which would set the boundary.

A specific command (help me find one) to allow who I want to break the boundary.

A specific command to bring him back to the boundary line, (again, any suggestions for a word?).

If I start with these I think it will go a long way towards getting my boy under control--by creating a clearly understood working relationship.

He also needs to quit treating Charlie like a sheep and respect his position as an elder dog who is doing his work, hunting and flushing out vermin.

This is absolutely fascinating to me. I can feel my trainer brain revving up, which for me, has always been, unlocking and understanding the instinctive response and the thinking mind of the animal I'm working with, and shaping the behavior I need from it.

This is also why I love a healthy mixed breed dog. I love discovering who they are and how to utilize what I find. It's a matter of keeping an open mind and knowing the type of dog I'm looking for. With Brockle, I was looking for a protective, intelligent dog. I knew how to spot it and found it. The rest has been an incredible, albeit exhausting, gift.

This road to discovery will only increase my ability with all dogs, including purebreds who may cross my path. It will keep me open to the possibilities within the breed itself. Look at the GSD--protection, therapy, companion, stock dog--what I'm learning here will teach me so much about what I could find within one breed. Funny, conformation doesn't even come into this conversation, except for needing a dog sound enough to keep up with where his instinct takes him.

BALL!

Dogs - Observations and Questions

At the moment I am dealing with some interesting dog situations. I currently have six of the mangy bastards most interesting mix of dogs you could hope for.

I have my four, Brockle, the big hairy beast who is 2, Charlie, the rat terrier, 11, Dinah, a corgi/JRT, 16, and Snocone, a clinically insane, puppy mill surviving, Maltese, 10.

Then, I also have the, um, joy, of fostering my daughter's 1-year-old Greater Swiss Mountain dog, Bianca and 6-year-old sociopathic Italian Grayhound/Min Pin, Dobby.

I AM NOT A HOARDER.

I know this because I shout it at my neighbors every morning.

In order to function, I struck a deal with the Kidlette. She deals with her dogs and I deal with mine. I don't train, walk or take on their emotional health. In return, she does the same.

This avoids battles between us about training, exercise, or manners, and stops me from trying to pet six dogs at once.

It's not ideal, but it keeps things manageable.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not mean to her dogs, I feed them, make them part of our regular treks outside to pee and have cookies and tell them they are good when they offer behaviors I'm happy to see. I don't walk them, train them or snuggle them.

I tell myself this is a great opportunity to observe pack behavior and hierarchy, and am studying and thinking instead of sitting in a corner staring off into space. Besides, that's Snocone's job.

I'll write about the pack stuff at a later date, today, I'm hoping some of the dog people out there will help me understand a few things that confuse me and hopefully give me some insight on a few training issues.

One surprising thing I've learned -- if you completely ignore a dog it will go out of it's mind trying to figure out what you want and try to do it. Well, except Dobby, he will only take so much ignoring, then he starts to shake and pee on stuff. Afterwards he sits with Jim and glares at me.

Bianca has cut back on mindless barking because she gets a rare scritch on the butt and a "Good quiet!" when she stops. She has learned to lay down quietly and quit ravaging visitors (she's torn between barking with her hackles up and insane wiggling, wagging, mauling) just to get my approval. She has stopped counter surfing --when I'm home. She no longer walks across the smaller dogs, knocks them over to beat them out the door or sits on them to get their spot. Her general anxiety has dropped. This has all come from her watching what earns approval for my dogs and then emulating them.

Dobby has learned to poop outside, unless it's cold, windy, snowing or wet. He will sometimes make an effort  if I have the good gooey treats. He has learned to stop snarling and snapping when it's suggested he move out of a chair by getting dumped on the floor. His preferred method of coping is to hang with Jim because he lets him eat off his plate.

So. On to my questions. 

First, let's tackle Brockle.

Brockle likes to line stuff up.

Weird huh?

Does anybody have a clue what this is about?

He did this quite a bit during the first few months I had him. He would take shoes, toys, sticks, towels, the TV remote, garden stuff I had left out...and line them up. As you can see, we're talking a pretty straight line, and the spaces in between are close to equal.

Then, he stopped.

Over the last month or so, things have been intense around here and my stress levels are high. He started making lines again. Except now, it's only things of mine, or things I handle and a few sticks to fill things in. So, he takes my shoes, bath towel, socks, the remote, my phone, the spatula, things like that.

Also, during periods when my illness is really beating the crap out of me, he has started making a line along the length of my bed while I sleep. Except then, it's all his toys.

It seems to be a reaction to stress.

He guards his lines ferociously from the other dogs. You can see from the photo he wasn't pleased I was looking at it. He knew I was going to take my stuff back.

He doesn't chew anything up. I never get upset with him.

The conversation usually goes like this:

"Brockle? Do you have my shoe? Whoa, dude, now that's a work of art. Sorry buddy, I need my stuff back."

Brockle, looking miserable, follows me while I get my stuff. Then he sniffs each item as I put them away or on.

The lines aren't always in the same place in the yard, but they are always very straight and even. I've never seen him build one, but I have watched him fill in gaps and move things to make them straight. He lays in the yard, head between his paws, and watches it. Then periodically gets up and moves stuff. He makes them anywhere from ten days apart to twice on a slow afternoon.

I don't know if this is connected, but the other night, Charlie was running around the house with something gray, floppy and about 3 inches square. The other dogs were really interested, he was doing a cross between making sure they all knew he had it, and trying to find a safe place to chew on it. 

I went to see what he had. It was a very old, recently dug up piece of rawhide. Since I quit giving my dogs rawhides two years ago, it was pretty gross. Unlike my other dogs, when I tell Charlie, "Drop it" he thinks it means "Clench the gross thing between my teeth and run like hell," which is what he did.

I was tired, he had disappeared out the dog door, and well, I was tired. So I went to bed. I heard some running, growling and complaining from the dogs during the night, but no actual murders. The next morning, the rawhide was laying on the floor next to my bed. 

Charlie was pacing and upset. Brockle kept staring him down to keep him off, the other dogs were staying clear.

Charlie doesn't share, so Brockle must have put it by me.

Was he taking care of me or did he give it to me to stop the arguments? Or is all of this some weird dog ritual sacrifice? Any ideas?

My next Brockle question.

He guards me. Not violently, but diligently. If someone is at the door, he runs and leans against/between me and the door. He gets between me and any person or dog who is focused on me. He blocks my access to all major appliances and the kitchen sink (but not the bathroom) when I'm too tired to be working.

He won't eat unless I'm actively engaged in an activity that tells him I'm not leaving the house.

There was some minor aggression to a friends dog, at her house, when her dog crossed his perceived line of protection. Not cool.

I need him to curtail it. But, I don't want to stop his need to care for me. He is becoming a crackerjack assistance dog, and I don't want him to question his role. He helps me up stairs, to get out of bed, leans into me to help me balance when I'm off, and some other stuff I haven't decided to write about yet.He can tell my BP is dropping before I can, and I'm just now learning to read him and listen. 

So, how do I get control of his overzealous side, ease his anxiety, but keep developing and benefiting from  the positives?

I've been debating using the "place" command. Then I could park him and he could be relieved of his job as my shadow. 

Would that help control the misplaced aggression?

Except, from  what I understand, once a dog is parked, they have to stay that way until released. I need him to make executive decisions. When I'm tired or overdo  I don't always think clearly. Brockle will nuzzle and push until I stop and either sit or lay down. 

Any thoughts?

Next question.

Snocone.

She is still emerging from her internal tangled ball of yarn brain, 2 1/2 years after we adopted her. She just offered her first communication cue. 

I have learned that when Snocone makes tiny little circles (like a dog about to lay down), she needs to go outside NOW.

A few months ago, she began coming within five feet or so to make her circles. She was actually coming to find me when she needed to go out.

When I take her out, I pick her up and carry her, we don't have enough time for her to robot walk out, plus, she forgets she's following and wanders, anyway, I always take the opportunity to give or get a snuggle from her on the way out the door.

Recently, like in the past two weeks or so, Snocone started to come within five feet, do her circle, then, when I picked her up, just melt in and give me the coveted Maltese hug. She started using the "I gotta pee" cue as a "I need attention" cue too. Trust me, this is huge. 

Then, just last week, she has started whining when she's hungry, or when she wants me to come find her.

We are communicating!

My question is, how do get her to expand the cues? It would be great if she could actually approach us in a straight line when she wants attention. 

We play "Find it." I'll make a trail of tiny little bites of food and let her follow it to her dinner bowl, or a treat. She doesn't respond to the command, but she love, love, loves playing it. She will follow the food trail everywhere, and it doesn't have to be food she even likes. I think she's just having a blast following her nose. That is her only game.

Can I use it to get her to come to me without the circle?

Does it matter?

I would say no, but I can't explain how excited she becomes over each breakthrough. I'd like to get more.

So, there's my questions. Please, please, give me your thoughts, training tips, anything.

Thanks.

Things I've Learned and What I'm Thinking - Brockle and Protection Work

We mill around, sipping coffee in cardboard cups, laughing and catching up. The dogs are let out of their kennels to stretch their legs and warm up, one by one, or in small groups that are known to get along.

Each dog runs to the "pee spot" and does just that, getting their first praise of the day for peeing where they're supposed to. They weave in and out of the group, receiving praise, pats and friendly greetings.

Brockle, who was so stranger-wary when we first teamed up, now trots up to his favorite treat lady, accepts a kind stroke or a cheery "Hey Brockle" with a happy wag of his tail. He is fired up and ready to rock and roll, but obediently goes to his bed in the back of my car when I call him.

What I've learned:
This first of the morning ritual is important. The dogs all pee at the pee spot because it smells good. When they receive the universal "Good pee!" they are not only learning to pee on command, but starting the day doing things right, just by doing things naturally.

The dogs socialize with their handler, the decoys, the trainers, spouses observers, etc. Everybody is the same, and all people are treated with respect.

What I'm thinking:
Brockle is learning to trust my reactions. If I'm relaxed and social, so is he. So, how much of his anxieties and fears are mirrors of my own? Watching him become a happy, solid, confident dog gives me a surge of peace. His insecurities aren't the only mirrors.

We start the day by bringing Brockle out so HMT and Bianca can check our obedience work. Brockle bounces and grins and turns himself inside out to perform each maneuver. What we lack in precision we make up in enthusiasm. HMT gives me some tips on correcting his crooked sit and Bianca talks to me about what's coming next, the off-leash down stay while another dog works.

What I've learned:
Brockle's bounce won't hurt him during our initial, Basic Handler test. He is young, the road to Schutzhund is long, and the judges will enjoy his enthusiasm. He throws him self into every maneuver like a crazy dog, keeps his eyes on me, and responds with lightening speed. These things are what they want to see.

I am too quiet and not assertive enough when I give my commands.Sigh.

What I'm thinking:
I wiggle inside like my dog does on the outside when my trainer and his wife say "Good job!"

One by one, each dog is brought from kennel or car and works with his handler, and a decoy. The dogs waiting in their kennels for their turn, bark and whine with excitement. Each work out is finished within minutes, sometimes one or two, sometimes five, rarely much longer. This is an experienced, knowledgeable crowd. They watch each dog work with intensity, and discuss what they see, and then ideas for improving the dog, the decoy and or the handler fly fast between them. The teasing, catcalls and harassment wait for the brief down times between dogs. Everybody contributes, everybody learns to take a bite, and those who can, are learning to decoy. Everyone has something to offer. The discussions are lively and I am the greenest in  the group.

What I've learned:

Keep my mouth shut, observe and listen. Think things through, then ask careful questions.


What I'm thinking:

While I don't mind not knowing, I hate being stupid. I want to be worth educating. I wonder why they keep me around.

Brockle and I come out to work. Decoy Jim wants to focus on Brockle's prey drive. HMT agrees and watches from the sidelines. Decoy Jim goes back to the tug, easing the mental pressure on Brockle. He immediately jumps into the game, hitting the end of the leash with authority, barking a loud warning and going in for the bite on the tug.

He fades again like he did last week, sniffing the ground, presenting his profile to the decoy. This week, we're ready for him. The decoy throws the tug, Brockle locks onto it when it lands and begins to bark as the decoy swoops in to pick it up. When he bites, it's without hesitation and he carries the tug in a proud victory lap.

What I've learned:

Through reading about the body language of dogs, I have learned that anxious dogs who want to placate a threat (the decoy) will look away, sniff the ground and otherwise appear distracted.

A dog that is guarding his person will stand lengthwise in front of them, looking out.

When Brockle bites, he is all about defense. He is protecting me and is not seeing this bite work as a game. He barks in a high, nervous yap, and bites with a shallow, front of the mouth bite. This says he's feeling insecure.

What I'm thinking:

Brockle is unsure of his role at this point. He has made it clear he will whomp some butt if the bad guy gets too close, but he's not happy about it. He is trying to placate the decoy.

Brockle is a civilized dog who knows it's wrong to bite people. "Hey man, why don't you settle down, maybe a game of fetch?"

I worry that we're scaring him.

What I've learned:

Brockle's behavior is understandable in a young dog and a surprise only to me. He understands the concept of defense, but not the concept of prey. Once he gets it, he will get into the game.

"Brockle is confused, not afraid," Bianca told me. "He wouldn't have been so happy on the field this morning, while you were working obedience, if he was afraid. He is always eager to come out, a frightened dog wouldn't be.

Brockle is sorting out his job and is telling me what he needs. The Cool K-9's team understands this. Our work-outs are fun, short and to the point. Dogs are encouraged and praised and we always quit on a high note, no matter how small it might be.

What I've learned:
Trust my trainer.

What I'm thinking:
Brockle is thinking too. He's freaking awesome.