Maximum Training, Part Two: Never Say Die

So it's been going pretty well these days. Here's what I've figured out lately:

The key with Max's aggression is to never let him win. That's why keeping him on the leash in the house has been invaluable. The more consistently I can enforce my ultimate correctness and power, the sooner he'll behave well off-leash, all the time. At this point, even on the leash, every day is a series of challenges from him, in which he tests his boundaries and pushes for control. The important thing to remember in this case is that this control that he seems to be fighting so hard for is not really what he wants. It's not good for him, nor is it fun for him. All it does is reinforce the notion that he has to fend for himself; that I am not a good leader; that the world is big and unmanageable and therefore he has reason to be fearful and aggressive.

Here are the times that Max will challenge me:

1. When the cat runs by - his prey drive gets the best of him. Some will say this is natural, but his desire to chase the cat is destructive and not healthy for either of them. It's good practice for the out of doors as well, to ensure that he doesn't bolt after anything and everything that moves.
2. When there is food on the coffee table. Or the counter. Or the kitchen table. He has yet to learn the boundary between food left unsupervised and food he is allowed to access. This is partly bad training on my part, because I used to let him lick my plate clean. It's also because, back when he was off-leash in the house, there would be no way to ensure he "lost" that battle. This continually reinforced the idea that, if he tries hard enough, he can enjoy the tasty reward of free food.
3. He'll also challenge me with non-food items, like bottle caps, plastic containers, toilet paper tubes and dirty underwear (what IS it with dogs that do this?). All of the above have been victories he's been allowed to achieve in the past, so it takes a lot more work to undo that learning than to never have allowed it to happen in the first place. He has to learn the difference between toys that he is permitted to have, and things that are not toys at all.
4. Any time he knows he's escaped my reach. I occasionally let him romp around the house with his leash on but without me holding it. I usually use this time to ensure that commands like "come," "look at me," "sit," and "lie down" all work without the physical manipulation made possible with the leash. This is usually fine. He responds well generally. But again, if the cat runs by, or he bolts up or down stairs, no matter how calm I keep my voice, he figures out that he has the space to do what he wants. I go after him to collect his leash calmly, before he wins any challenges, but that task alone becomes a challenge for him, one in which his aggression comes to the fore. It's also harder for me to keep my temper in circumstances like this, and he feels that frustration from me, which is probably what brings out his rage.
5. When I have guests over. He knows my defenses are down. I hate inconveniencing people. He never barks at me for attention if we're alone or with my roommates, because he knows I'll ignore him no matter what, and he won't win. But when there are guests over, my self-consciousness has, in the past, led me to cave sooner rather than later, bribing him or distracting him or putting him away instead of holding my ground. Social gatherings are also a place of anxiety for Max, so even me removing him from the room is a reward for him, and reinforces the idea that barking can solve his problems.
6. Any and all times when I am manipulating his body. If I want to remove his eye goops, dry off his paws, put on a jacket, cut his hair, clean his nasty butthole, and MOST OF ALL, cut his nails (a victory i have yet to achieve), he puts up a fight. It starts with just a kind of puppy-like, open-mouthed teethiness, and maybe physically avoiding my touch, but it can quickly turn into snarly wolverine-like Max, which is terrifying, really. I've been pretty desensitized to this kind of aggression coming from him, so I'm never really afraid to approach him or keep trying. But my anger does come out. It's disappointing when a dog you've spent gallons of time and money on, who you love dearly and want in your life, will turn vicious and try to attack you at a time when you're trying to take care of their health. Heartbreaking, actually, wouldn't be too big of an exaggeration. He often brings me to tears in this manner. The key is to keep going, and to practice mild forms of the desired contact at calm moments. And go into every interaction expecting the best. If you start thinking about all the times it hasn't worked, all the scars you already have on your hands and arms, it won't work. He'll go right back into that space, and there'll be no learning. I try to keep him calm for as much of the procedure as possible, so he's still in a functional state of mind. But once he loses his shit, it's important to keep going. Do anything you need to in order to keep the momentum of the task. Employ friends to hold him down, muzzle him, take deep breaths, think of golden retrievers in family movies... just a few of the things I attempt in order to get these things accomplished. He's great with almost all of these challenges now, but not consistently. *sigh* We'll get there.

In all of these cases, the speed with which I respond and the calm that I embody makes the challenge subside within a smaller amount of time. If I hesitate, if I am angry or frustrated, embarassed or nervous, or if I don't notice until he's already rewarded himself in some way, the challenge will come up again and again, and even defeating that instance will take a much longer time and incite more aggression and frustration from him. So it's a full-time job.

Another thing I've learned is that if Max knows what he needs to be doing, he relaxes and is less likely to get distracted or attempt to challenge me. The key to this is to talk to him. I tell him to lie down if I ever plan to be in any place for a period of time. If I'm sitting on the couch, he earns the right to sit next to my by first lying on the ground by my feet comfortably. The added command of "upup" (onto the couch) "lie down" again is additionally helpful. If ever I want to step away for a moment without dragging him with me, I get him to follow a couple of commands, ending either in "sit" or "lie down," and then i tell him to "wait." He's become quite skilled and patient with "wait," even in the face of distractions. This is a hard one to enforce, but he learned it before with treats. They understand the passing of time, and realize quickly that, if them moving means a longer wait for reward, moving's a bad idea and they should hold absolutely still. At this point, Max is also conditioned to understand my "no" voice and what it means. He doesn't want to hear that voice, not out of fear, but because this has previously meant the absence of a reward, or an increase in his level of subordination. He understands that when I say "no," I'm upset with him for not fulfilling his responsibility to me as top dog, and it's finally becoming clear to him that he doesn't want to let me down. Which is nice. I would say this is a promising first sign of a dominant aggressive dog letting go of some of his dominance and accepting leadership.

McDuff, Meiko and Peanut

There is so much dog in my life right now.

Maximum Training, Part One

PREFACE: The last time I mentioned anything here, it was merely to say that I'd adopted a dog, Maxwell. He's a terrier mix and a handful. Throughout my time with him, I've been working on rehabilitating his issues, which revolve around a hefty combination of dominance issues and fear-based aggression. I've had a LOT of great advice, not the least of which has come from my other dog-owning peers, See, KT, M and Em. This, along with reading training books and watching ridiculous but helpful shows like the Dog Whisperer, has allowed me to create a regime best suited for Max's issues. So far, here are the rules I use:

1. Max never eats before me. I prepare his food along with my own and keep his dish in sight but in my possession until I've finished eating. Thereafter, he has to lay still and look at me calmly before he's permitted to eat. While he's eating, I stand over him or near him, pet him, put my hands near his food, and at any sign of discomfort from him, I remove his food and the process starts again.
2. Max never walks in front of me. In the house, out of the house, doesn't matter. Currently, he's on leash even in the house, so if he gets ahead of me, he's immediately pulled back behind me and I don't continue moving until he's still and attentive.
3. Everything is mine. Max's bones are mine, his toys are mine, his bed is mine. Anything he has can be taken away at any time. This is practiced frequently in order to reinforce this message. This remains his weak point. Especially off-leash in the house, he has a tendency to grab something he knows I don't want him to have and run off with it in order to challenge me.
4. Max never chooses where he sits. I tell him where he can and cannot sit or lie down.
5. All of the above is dependent on MY attitude. I must never lose my temper, yell or back down. I must be consistent and calm in the face of ANYTHING. This is my weak point, to be certain, and were I a flawless person with a very even temper and the ability to stick to things like glue, I'd probably have a perfect dog. The reality is, none of us are that perfect. But I am aware that my temper and frustration have a huge affect on Max's understanding of me as a leader. When I lose my temper, with him or even just with the dishes or the internet, we go back five steps almost instantly.

So that's where we're at. Since consulting M in-depth, I've decided to start writing about my training experiences with him. I'm talking about it all the time, so why not write about it! I've learned so much, and I think it's important to share.

M recently borrowed Maxwell for a couple nights, in an attempt to better learn what his issues are. Since then, Max has been on a much more strict regimine, and my resolve has been strengthened. Max is now on-leash and attached to me at all times in the house. This allows me to better police his behaviours and instill a consistent sense of submission in him. Before, when he'd be off leash in the house, he would have the opportunity to "win" by stealing something he wasn't supposed to have and running off with it. I would attempt to retrieve the item by cornering him, and this is when his fear aggression would take over. At times like that, there is no way to train a dog. When they've retreated into fearfulness, aggression or a combination thereof, there is nothing you can do to teach them about what is expected of them. With the leash on, I'm able to stop the behaviour before it escalates into a showdown. Even with the leash on, Max will still attempt to steal food or pens or bits of paper or cans. He still tries to jump up on counters, tabletops and people. The difference is that I have control. I can stop him as soon as I notice him fixating on something and preparing for what would follow. So that's helped a lot.

But what all of this comes down to is an attempt to assure Max that I'm the leader, that I know what's best, and that he doesn't have to worry about making those decisions himself. This is a vital part of popping his dominance bubble. As Cesar has said countless times, a dog practicing dominance is also a stressed out dog. And Max is a perfect case of that. He wants direction, but isn't always willing to be directed. Especially when he sees the person who would lead him to be a faulty or untrustworthy leader. This is where my own consistency and calm is important. On-leash, Max is not only easier to control, but I feel more confident in my ability to control him. This makes my attitude appear to him as calmer and more capable. The times when I would lose my temper with him are diminished, and this allows us to build a more trusting relationship. Because Max is a rescue with a bit of an abusive past, it is vital that he never see me as aggressive, but only dominant and calm. When he sees me as aggressive, his fear response kicks in and he won't learn from me or trust my leadership. These are things to keep in mind when working with ANY dog, abusive past or not.

So, on to today's breakthrough.

While Max is on-leash in the house and on walks, I still let him off-leash in safe outdoor areas away from roads to allow him to exercise. These times are also opportunities to build and test our relationship. So today, I took Max to such an outdoor area and let him off-leash. Up to this point, I had been using food rewards any time he was off-leash in order to ensure he'd return to me when I called. It's important to recognize that I've been doing this kind of positive enforcement for months. EVERY time I called him and he came to me, I would give him a treat. I would call him often for no reason, so that he wouldn't associate my call with instantly being put back on-leash. This has been really useful in building trust, but the little bugger's smart, and often WON'T come when I call if he knows I have no reward. Any time a dog like Max gets to choose whether or not to listen to a command, that feeds his little furry ego, and that ain't good. It's important that a dog recognize your word as a reward in and of itself, because that means he respects you as a leader. So today, I aspired to instill in him that, reward or no, following my lead was important. I still had treats in my pocket as a back-up, but that was more for me than for him it transpired. I let him off-leash after walking him on-leash around the whole perimeter of the area. I changed directions often, so that his focus was on me, and got him to sit and lie down at irregular intervals or if he was particularly distracted by something. As soon as Max is off-leash, he bolts around sniffing, but because of the relationship we've built, he looks at me frequently. Without bribery, however, he is unlikely to come when called. So I tried something new. As soon as he bolted away, I called his name and then turned my back to him and walked with INTENT away from him. He would then start bolting in the direction I was walking. AS SOON as he got ahead of me, I would call his name again and change directions. After a couple trips around the park this way, he was glued by my side with his eyes on me, wondering what the heck was going on. Shortly after we'd reached that point, another dog approached the park from up ahead. He was behind me, snuffling around, and I heard his feet accelerate toward the dog. This is the kind of time that even a treat reward would normally not work. I turned towards him quickly, said his name sharply, and walked towards him with my arms out. He stopped dead in his tracks and lay down. Victory! He knew what I expected of him, and he knew that the other dog, however fascinating, was my turf and I would decide how he would interact with him. I was able to calmly put his leash on and he walked perfectly the rest of the way home.

Changing direction can be an excellent way to get his attention. On the walk home, I practiced the same technique in lower-case. He's usually pretty good at heeling on-leash, but often doesn't seem to have his head in the game. He snuffles around and stares at people or dogs across the street. With his mind allowed to wander, it's often too late for me to intervene in his behaviour before it moves into aggressive mode. It also means that he can convince himself that I'm not leading him, which enforces his dominance. So while walking him, I took note of where his little nose was pointing. Even if he was just snuffling the dirt, I would move him, behind me, to the other side, placing myself between him and whatever he was even remotely interested in. This helped him keep his focus on me and on the walk itself. It also meant that he didn't have time to think about dogs passing by, or a gaggle of kids on recess. And it enforced that whatever it is, I'm in charge of how he relates to it.

So yeah! That's today's story. Except that while I was writing this, I was eating a nice greasy hashbrown. Instead of protecting the food from him the way I normally would, I put the food on the floor. He went right for it at first, but a sharp no made him stop dead, and he then gave me a bubble of about two feet for the rest of the time I was eating! This is the first time I've done this, and I can't believe how logical it is, but now I'm going to practice that all the time, until all food everywhere is safe, because it'll be considered mine until proven otherwise.