How I Taught My Dog to Heel for a Ball Without Having Her Brain Fall Out of Her Head

I am really proud of Maisy’s heeling- although I never thought I’d say that. It used to be that her heeling was sort of dull and lackluster, but these days it's bright and animated. She is focused and excited and definitely having fun; she thinks it’s a huge game. Which it is, actually, because I taught Maisy to heel for a ball reward. This wasn’t easy, because every time I tried to use a ball, her brain fell out of her head. But I wanted the attitude that I was sure would come if she thought heeling was fun, so I needed to figure out how to use her ball as a reward.

Luckily, I was able to get a working spot at a Denise Fenzi seminar, who is a master at using play to get excellent results. Thanks to Denise’s excellent coaching, Maisy now has some awesome heeling skills. She’s still not perfect, but she definitely has a solid foundation. I documented the process last summer/fall here on this blog, but I thought it would be nice to organize all of that information into one post.

Step 1: Get the Dog Thinking
This is the hardest step. No matter how much your dog has heeled in the past, if he loves his ball, there’s a pretty good chance that he’ll forget it all when you bring the ball out. Prevent disappointment and frustration by starting from the beginning. Don’t worry- this doesn’t take that long. I trained for about five minutes a day, four times a week, and spent about two weeks on each step. In the end, I spent less than three months accomplishing more than I had in the three years before.

So, how do you get your dog to start thinking? Teach him that the ball only gets thrown when he exerts some self control. Since most ball-obsessed dogs will run forward looking for his ball (and thus forging at heel!), require him to be in line with your hip. Start the training session by walking. Your dog will no doubt run to your side, and yes, cross that imaginary line. Immediately turn and go in the other direction. You’ll probably do this three or four or more times. That’s okay, just keep changing directions until it’s obvious he’s try to control himself- it will probably only be for a step or two- and throw his ball.

Make no mistake, this is not heel position- Maisy went very wide, especially when I turned around- but don’t worry about that right now. All you want is for him to be thinking and demonstrating that he can control himself when excited. Continue building on that until he can stay in line with you for about 10 to 20 feet.

Step 2: Close the Gap
Now it’s time to get your dog close to you. The easiest way to do this is to temporarily relax the criteria of remaining in line with your hip, which means that you’ll see some forging again. That’s okay for now. Since your dog has learned some self-control, so it’s unlikely that he’ll go shooting off too far ahead (Maisy was about a half to a full body length ahead of me at this stage). It’s also unlikely that he will immediately get right next to your leg, so you’ll need to shape him closer and closer to you during each subsequent session. I generally expected my dog to be about three inches closer to me each time.

If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to simply capture this. If your dog accidentally moves closer, throw the ball immediately. If you’re not so lucky, you can try patting your leg, talking to your dog, and/or drifting away from him. As soon as he makes a move to get closer, throw the ball. Continue doing this until your dog is tight against your leg, and can maintain that for 10 to 20 feet.

Step 3: Perfect the Position
It is easier to get this than you might expect. Start walking. Your dog will be close to your leg because that’s what you’ve been working on. Now, however, when he forges, slow down. Your dog will probably slow down, too. Reward him as soon as he gets into heel position, both in line with your hip and tight to your leg. If you have to, shape him in stages, just like you did when encouraging him to get close.

When he can stay in place for about five feet, return to a normal pace. If he forges, slow down again. Throw the ball if he maintains the correct position. It didn’t take Maisy very long to figure out that she should both be in line with my hip and close to my leg. Keep working on it until your dog can maintain the correct position for 10 to 20 feet without you needing to slow down.

Note: you can also correct the forging by doing an about turn, and if that works for you, go for it. This made Maisy go wide, though, which defeated the point of close and in position.

Step 4: Change the Motivator
At this point, your dog is probably already watching you pretty closely because OMG YOU HAVE MY BALL, but you can’t take a ball in the ring, so you need to motivate him to pay attention for other reasons. To do this, you’re going to change your pace and direction frequently- like every three to five seconds. Go fast, go slow. Turn right, turn left. Do about turns. And most of all, be unpredictable. Not only is this way more fun for most dogs, but it also makes change to be the reason to pay attention, not just the ball.

At the same time, start using the ball way less often as a reward- about half as often, in fact. Again, the reason to pay attention is you, so praise your dog like crazy when he’s doing well, and reserve the ball for particularly brilliant moments, or for longer stretches of time (every thirty seconds or so at first, but stretch that out as he gets better).

Step 5: Start and Stop
So far, we’ve just started walking, not worrying about the sit at heel. Now it’s time to add that in. I found it easiest to work on adding the halt instead of starting from a sit. Again, you’ll need to tackle sitting in line separately from sitting closely from sitting straight. Once your dog is sitting where you want him reliably, stop rewarding it every time and work on starting from heel, too. Soon your dog will be a total pro!

Some Final Notes…
You can speed this process up if you are thoughtful about how and where you present your dog’s ball. Since dogs will often anticipate where the reward will show up, a ball thrown forward will often yield more forging. If you throw the ball out to your left, you’ll encourage him to go wide. The best option is to drop the ball to your dog in the correct position. If your dog is like mine, however, and relishes chasing the ball over catching it or possessing it, experiment with throwing the ball behind you. I found this a bit tricky at first (so did Maisy), but together we figured it out. If your dog starts anticipating the ball going in the new direction, simply change it up between throwing it forward and behind.

Keep in mind this isn’t the only way to train a dog. This is just how I did it. Obviously, it’s geared towards a dog who goes over-the-top in excitement. If your dog is lagging, you’ll handle it very differently (I would try speeding up and rewarding when he tries to match your speed). Know your dog. If this doesn’t sound like it would work with your dog, don’t do it. Well, except the having fun part. You should definitely have fun no matter what.

But if your dog is like mine and his brains just go to goo when he sees the ball, there’s a good chance this might work for you. I know that I am very, very pleased with the results. I’m still blown away by how happy Maisy has been in the ring in the past month, and impressed by her very nice performance.

Finally, let me know if you try this. I’d love to hear how it goes. If you’ve done something else to help teach your ball-obsessed dog to work for one as a reward, please leave a comment about that, too. I’m sure someone could benefit from your experience!

The Joy of Making Mistakes

I think I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m something of a perfectionist. You would think this personality type would lend itself to competition obedience- after all, who else other than a perfectionist would be willing to address the millions of little details that it requires? Straight fronts, precise heeling, unwavering eye contact, so many things to pick at and obsess about.

But I found no joy in it. Instead, I got overwhelmed by the prospect of doing it wrong. I worried endlessly about breaking my dog. I was positive I would make a mistake so serious that I’d never be able to fix it, and I’d be doomed to unreliable and sloppy performances forever after.

Between all of the different dog training blogs, forums, and email lists I read, it’s no wonder I freaked out. Should I use pivot boards and platforms, or are these impossible to fade? Should I use a target on the ground or on the wall for go-outs? Tie down scent articles or not? How often should I reward my dog, and with what? Should I talk or remain silent? And how do I tell my dog she was wrong if I won’t use physical corrections?

In the end, I was paralyzed by fear. Faced with so many choices, I made the easiest, and did nothing. By not training, I couldn’t make mistakes… but my dog wasn’t learning anything, either.

So what’s a perfectionist to do?

Well, I started by acknowledging that there are many ways to train a dog, even within my particular training philosophy. Doing this allowed me to accept that even if I made a complete and utter fool of myself with one method, there would be another way of training the skill. I would not have to give up on my goals entirely.

A video still from a heeling session. We are having FUN.

Next, I simply chose the one that seemed the most fun. I figured that making a mistake was inevitable at some point, so I might as well be enjoying it, you know?

I also decided that Maisy should be having fun, too. Unlike me, Maisy does not care one whit about scores and placements and titles. She just wants to go and play with me. As it turns out, I don’t get much joy from watching her plod through an exercise, so this worked well for us both.

And then I started training. These days, I train for speed and enthusiasm. I train for eagerness and intensity. I train for joy. Yes, we make mistakes, and yes, it’s quite possible it will all fall apart some day. But so what? It seems like everyone has to re-train something anyway, so we’ll be in good company. Besides, if we have to start over again, it just gives us that much more to do together.

This has been working quite well for me. Maisy has learned a lot, and we’ve been making great progress. She picks up on things quickly, and she’s developed skills I’d almost written off. As for my desire for scores and placements, well, Maisy’s recent success seems to speak for itself. Oh, and did I mention that we’ve been having tons of fun together?

Perfectionist or not, this is why I train: because I love my dog and want to do things with her. And I’ve been able to enjoy our time together even more by discovering the joy of making mistakes.

URO1 Maisy Jane

After the obedience trial in December, I wasn’t sure what our competition future held. While she did very well, she was also very stressed afterwards- so much so, in fact, that if I hadn’t suspected that the hustle and bustle of Christmas was a contributing factor, I probably would have retired her for good right then and there. Instead, I decided to test this theory by taking her to one or more two trials. I figured that would allow me to make a better decision. So, on Saturday I took Maisy to a UKC rally trial and entered her in a single level 1 run.

She did great! She completed her URO1 title. I was pretty happy about that since we got the first two legs two years ago, and I’d sort of given up on completing it. I was even more excited to learn that she’d finished her title with a perfect score of 100 (our first perfect score ever!), which was good enough for first place, high scoring mixed breed dog, and high in trial!

I was really, really happy with the more subjective measures of her performance, too. She remained engaged with me for the entire course. She was quick to respond to my cues. Her little tail was wagging and happy, and she just overall looks loose and relaxed.



I think the best part, though, was that she wasn’t overly stressed by the whole thing. We had to wait for over an hour for our turn, and it was too cold to crate in the car, so she was right there ringside with everyone else. She laid in her crate the entire time, rolled over on a hip. She took treats with a soft mouth, and was happy to socialize with people without being frantic and over-the-top about it.

The trial site was crawling with triggers, too: dobies and shepherds and the sound of choke chains/slip collars and stressed people… I was worried. She did stare a bit, and she thought about rushing towards a weim at one point, but she was easily redirected. The only disappointing moment happened when I left her in her crate to go walk the course. A handler with a shepherd was warming up by playing tug only a few feet from Maisy’s crate, and she barked several times. That was unfortunate, but completely understandable… and it clearly didn’t affect her ability to bounce back and compete successfully.

The real test, though, came later. Since she was practically crawling out of her skin after the last trial, I was concerned about how she would be at home. She was definitely tired on Saturday afternoon, and slept like a rock. But after her nap, she bounced up, ready to play ball and go about her normal routine. There was no edginess either that night or the next day. She did bark a bit on Sunday, but nothing outside what a normal dog does.

All in all, I think it is safe to continue trialing with her. We will still take things slowly. Our next scheduled event is in April, when there are CDSP obedience and APDT rally trials being held together. My tentative plan is to enter one run, and then take stock of how her stress-levels are doing. If she’s doing okay I’ll either enter her in a second run that day, or I’ll enter her in one run the second day. I’m not sure which yet- nor am I sure if I’ll do CDSP or APDT.

No matter what I decide to do, our competition future is looking bright, and I am so proud of my Maisy!

Happy Gotcha Day, Maisy

Five years ago today, Maisy came home.

“Home” was actually a group home. My job was to supervise the staff and daily operations of the home, and my company thought the best way to do that was to have the supervisor live there. And so my husband and I lived in the walk-out basement of a two story home; upstairs, there were four adults with pretty profound disabilities.

Since I was working with vulnerable adults, I needed the permission of not only my employers, but also each resident’s guardian. It was a pretty nerve-wracking experience. I had fallen head over heals in love with this little puppy, and as I waited for approval from five different people, I was forced to wonder what I’d do if the answer came back as “no.” I probably would have quit (losing my job and my home at the same time), actually, which just proves how completely irrational Maisy made me.

But I got permission, and I brought her home, completely ignorant about pretty much everything about dogs. I vividly remember her first afternoon at home. All the websites I’d read on housetraining lied: she didn’t sniff or have any obvious signs that she was about to pee. She just went. After the third or fourth time in as many hours, I was pretty sure I’d made a huge mistake. I was stubborn, though, and she was cute, so we soldiered on.

Maisy loved going upstairs to visit the guys, and would often climb up the steps and whine at the door separating my “apartment” from the rest of the house. In the early days, she could go up stairs, but not down, and so I’d often have to go rescue her.

But when I let her go visit? Oh, how she loved it! She would visit with the staff and residents alike, begging for food, and later, showing off what she was learning in puppy class. She would proudly sit when resident N asked her to. She learned her first trick (shake paw) when my awake overnight staff called in sick and I had to fill in (those shifts were terribly boring- the staff was around mostly to respond to emergencies). That same night, I learned the value of a good “leave it” when I dropped a seizure medication on the floor. (She left it.)

In retrospect, this was a fabulous socialization opportunity. In addition to frequent shift changes, erratic movement, and odd noises, IV poles, patient lifting devices, and wheelchairs abounded. Later, when she graduated from puppy class, the guys came to watch, and she was the only dog who didn’t freak out about the wheelchairs. Even today, she’s very excited to see a person in a wheelchair.

Things have changed a lot since those early days. Today, we live in our own house, with our own back yard. She’s housetrained (finally!), and doesn’t need to be crated when I’m gone. She has two kitty brothers, and a human mama who actually knows something about dog behavior.

But one thing hasn’t changed, and that is the fact that I love her. I can’t imagine my life without her, can barely remember what it was like before. She has brought so much joy to my life, and I love her more than I’ll ever be able to say.

So, Happy Gotcha Day, Maisy. I am glad you could come home, and I hope we have many, many more years together.

My Favorite Dog Training Books

I love to read. I love dogs. So it should come as no surprise that I love reading books about dogs… and especially about dog training. So today, I want to tell you about five of my favorite dog training books.

The Thinking Dog, by Gail Fisher
I did not read this book for quite awhile because the subtitle references crossover trainers (those who move from more traditional, punishment based techniques to positive methods), which I am not. When I finally did get around to reading it, I was very impressed. It is a great introduction to positive methods in general, and clicker training in specific.

It covers a wide variety of topics, starting with the benefits of positive training. It discusses how to acquire behaviors- both in general, and for specific behaviors- as well as how and when to add the cue. In fact, I think this book has some of the best information on cuing and stimulus control I’ve ever seen. I also appreciated the frank discussion on the use of punishment, because let’s face it, punishment is impossible to avoid in real life. This book helps talk the reader through the options without advocating physical corrections.

Reaching the Animal Mind, by Karen Pryor
This book deftly mixes personal stories, anecdotes, and science to make for a highly enjoyable look at animal training. It isn’t a how-to manual, but rather discusses how and why we train animals- all animals. I especially enjoyed the information about how an animal's brain processes training, but there's also great information about animal creativity and TAGTeach- clicker training for humans. 

This book also has a special place in my heart as the book that turned my husband from mostly bored to fascinated by all that training stuff I kept babbling about. I think that speaks to the inspiring nature of this book. My husband had the same response I did: the only thing that could tear us away from reading it was the desire to go TRY THIS with our dog.


The Other End of the Leash, by Patricia McConnell
Another not-a-training-manual book, and yet so valuable for those of us who train. It’s a fascinating look at our canine friends that is heavy on science, but it is interwoven with case studies and a gentle humor in a way that makes it easy to read.

What I love about this book is that it looks at the behavior and social order of dogs, wolves, and humans, and then compares and contrasts them in a way that helps us understand how our behavior affects that of our dogs. Everything from the way we move to the pitch of our voice makes a difference, and this book helped me learn how to take advantage of that.

The Culture Clash, by Jean Donaldson
I hesitate to include this book, because while it is an excellent look at how dogs and people differ, the tone can be blunt. I worry that people who come from more traditional training approaches will feel insulted by some of the phrasing.

That said, this book is absolutely astounding. It covers everything from learning theory to punishment to anthropomorphism to dominance… and really gave me an appreciation of just how amazing dogs are to overcome the incredible difference between their culture and ours. It is primarily an informational tome, but does have some how-tos in the back.

Control Unleashed, by Leslie McDevitt
This is the reactive dog bible, and if you have a dog who has trouble focusing, seems anxious, or is otherwise difficult, you need to read it. The book was written primarily for people competing in agility, but the techniques are useful for any dog in any situation.

The book is based on the classes Leslie was teaching, and as such, is laid out as a curriculum, going week by week. Leslie has also stated that she never uses every exercise in the book in every class or with every dog, so it’s definitely something you need to read critically with your own dog in mind. However, since it is written sequentially, many of the later activities build on the earlier ones, so you can't ignore the boring foundation stuff. As a result, this book can be tricky for a novice to get through. My advice is to read the whole thing all the way through before trying any of the activities.


These are just some of my favorite training-focused books. There are tons of great books out there (and that I had to regretfully leave out)… so you should comment and share what your favorite books are!

The Pleasure of Anticipation

Last spring, I wrote about how cues can be reinforcing for dogs. If the cue predicts a good outcome (a click and treat, for example), then the dog will find the cue exciting. More talented trainers than I have taken advantage of that by reinforcing a dog’s response with another cue.

Some readers met this with skepticism. Maybe my explanations made sense, maybe they didn’t, but let’s be honest: logic and anecdotes alone are not always convincing. That’s fine; I don’t expect everyone to agree with me, and in fact, I would find that rather boring. But when one of those skeptics found this hour-long lecture, she remembered my post and emailed me.

The lecture, given by neurobiologist Robert Sapolsky, explored what makes humans unique. His entire talk is fabulous, and I urge you to watch the entire thing. Personally, I really enjoyed his discussion of how language affects our perceptions of others because of the insular cortex, but what’s relevant today is what he shares about dopamine (starts about 30 minutes in).

Throw it... throooow iiiiiitttttttt.....

Dopamine is a neurotransmitter that helps control the brain’s pleasure and reward centers. For many years, it was believed that when someone (human or animal, it doesn’t matter- dopamine is present in all mammalian brains) received a reward, their brain would release dopamine. In turn, this would result in a pleasurable feeling.

However, when scientists actually studied what was going on, they found something very different. Sapolsky described an experiment in which chimps could receive a food reward if they press a lever when a light turns on. The dopamine levels in the chimps’ brains increased not when they completed the task, but rather when the light went on.

In other words, what the chimps found pleasurable was the opportunity to receive a reward, not the reward itself. After they pressed the level, their brain quit releasing dopamine, even before they received the reward. Anticipating the reward was better than the reward itself.

That light signified an opportunity to receive a reward; press the lever now, it said, and you will be reinforced. This is exactly what we do in dog training. I say “sit,” and if my dog does, she’ll get a treat. So the light was acting as a cue. The study Sapolsky cited says that it was the cue that made dopamine levels rise, which means that my dog will feel good when I say “sit,” not when I give her the treat. The cue is reinforcing.

I suspect that clickers work the same way, although Sapolsky didn’t address that directly. He did, however, say that dopamine is about the anticipation of the reward, not the reward itself. If cues can cause that anticipation, it seems that a sound could, too. Can a click cause dopamine levels to increase because the dog is now expecting to receive his reward? I don’t see why not.

What scientists found even more remarkable, however, was that when the food was given in response to the correct behavior only half the time, the chimps’ dopamine levels went through the roof. This wasn’t exactly surprising to me; dog trainers often talk about how a variable schedule of reinforcement creates stronger, more durable behaviors than when the dog gets a treat for every correct behavior. B.F. Skinner and his students proved that over and over again in the lab, although of course they couldn’t know that it was the result of dopamine. As Sapolsky put it, “maybe is addictive like nothing else.”

Finally, the scientists also found that if they blocked dopamine production in the chimps’ brains, when the light came on, the chimps didn’t care. Instead of eagerly pressing the lever, they sort of shrugged it off. The chimps knew they’d get a reward if they did, but they just didn’t seem to care. Could this be a possible explanation for why a dog doesn’t respond to a cue? Maybe. But I'd point out that there are many, many other reasons dogs don’t perform a behavior, and most of them are probably more logical. Still, it is fun to think about.

I found all of this really interesting. Not only did it support the concept of cues being reinforcing- something I find pretty fascinating in and of itself- but it also suggests that there is more at play in clicker training than just the food. In fact, it would seem that anticipation is what's truly powerful, an idea I find amusing since trainers often get upset when their dogs anticipate what's coming next.

To be fair, having the dog act before we ask them to can be a problem. Still, is that indicative of a corresponding spike in dopamine? And if so... how can we use this to our advantage? What can we do to harness our dog's natural brain chemistry to create a more favorable training outcome? I'll admit, I don't have an answer here, so I turn it over to you: have you ever used the power of anticipation to your advantage? And if so, how?

A Day at the Vet's

Last week, Maisy's feline brothers both had appointments scheduled with the vet for wellness exams. For a variety of reasons completely unimportant to today's story, those appointments happened during the middle of a work day. When I arrived home to pick up the kitties, Maisy danced around my feet, clearly excited by the prospect of an unexpected outing. I told her sorry, it wasn't her turn, and she looked so crushed that I simply couldn't leave her behind. I figured I could run her in the office, grab a weight, and then put her back in the car.

When we got there, the receptionist told me it was fine, Maisy was welcome to hang out in the exam room while the boys had their appointment. I took her up on this offer, figuring that if Maisy was a pain, I could run her out to the car.

But she wasn't. In fact, she was amazing. Not only did she settle down and lie there calmly while we were waiting for the vet to come in (as evidenced by this incredibly poor photo), but she also was calm and quiet during both exams.

Okay, yes, she got seriously excited when the vet first came in the room, but I just kept her on a short leash and ignored her. So did the vet, for that matter- her patients were the cats, after all. Maisy quickly realized that this was actually a rather boring trip, and laid down quietly at my feet.

I know this probably doesn't sound like much, but this is Maisy we're talking about. Although our the vets at this practice are incredibly gentle and good with fearful animals, they still do things that are uncomfortable. I'm sure Maisy remembered that. There was also barking going on outside our exam room, and I'm sure she could smell unsettling odors.

On top of that, Maisy's never been a dog to hold still. Or at least, she wasn't. Anxious dogs often seem restless; they pace or at least move around a lot. Maisy was no exception, and even at home, she used to have trouble settling down.

So the fact that she was able to just chill out in a stressful environment, with lots of chaos just on the other side of a door? Amazing. She never once barked or growled or even seemed tense about what was going on. She just... waited. Patiently. For an hour.

I think my favorite part came at the end of the visit, though. Each cat was in his own carrier, and I had one in each hand. I also had Maisy's leash in one. The receptionist asked if we needed help to the car, but I said we were fine. And we were- I walked for half a block like that, Maisy on a perfectly loose leash the entire time.

What a good girl.