More than Just Training: Changing Your Lifestyle to Change Your Reactive Dog

Maisy is a normal dog these days, health concerns not withstanding, of course. I take her places that I would have never dreamed possible in the old days, and I do it without even thinking about it. I put her into chaotic situations- block parties, playing with children, outdoor festivals- without worrying. I used her as a decoy dog for a BAT session with a German Shepherd, completely forgetting that that breed was once one of her biggest triggers.

And guys? It's pretty awesome.

But it took a lot of work to get to this point; our (former! Sad face!) veterinary behaviorist told me that she's only seen this level of improvement a handful of times in the past ten years. Maisy's normalcy is not, well... normal. And yet, here we are.

This progress was not the result of any one thing. Medication was a huge factor, as was some environmental management/change. And of course, I did a ton of training. But when you're working with a reactive dog, this training is not limited to attending class and doing your homework. This training needs to be happening all day long.

Back when I was in the throes of reactivity with Maisy, her days consisted of either management or training. That's it. I was either doing something to prevent her from reacting, or I was actively working on her reactivity. This required me to change my lifestyle in order to accommodate her needs.

Every single walk we took required a clicker and cookies. We played Look at That. I closely monitored her body language and used the Whiplash Turn to interrupt her when she got close to going overthreshold. Sometimes, I would turn around if there was a dog or a kid or a bike up ahead that I knew she wouldn't be able to handle. I reinforced good choices liberally. I did a ton of classical conditioning: every barking dog resulted in cookies. Every screaming child resulted in cookies. Every bike that whizzed by resulted in cookies.

At home, Maisy went in a crate when guests or workmen were expected. She did not go to many dog-friendly gatherings because I knew I would be distracted and unable to give her the undivided attention she would need. That made me sad (I love having her around), but it was the best thing for her. If I knew that something was reliably difficult for her (garbage day or the neighbor's house being re-roofed or whatever), I would put her in a quiet room with a chewy and calming music playing loudly enough to drown out the sounds. (Later, after we'd started using medication, I would also give her a short-acting, as-needed anxiety drug.)

I paid attention to the things that set her off at home, like the sound of a car door slamming outside or the mailman coming or even the cats boisterously playing together. I always had treats in a pocket, and every one of these things was followed by a cookie so I could change her association with those triggers from bad to good.

We did go to classes, and we did do our homework. You really have to; if your dog only practices skills in stressful situations, those skills become predictors of bad or scary things, and can actually add to your dog's stress level.

In other words, I changed the way I lived my life so I could help Maisy. Sometimes I failed. I was tired or sick or had a bad day and just couldn't deal with her. That was okay. I managed what I could and just promised myself I'd try again the next day. There were times that I put her in situations that required a judgment call- and I made the wrong one. Those, too, were okay. I would take note of the problem and work on it later. But over time, my consistent and constant work paid off with a normal dog.

My lifestyle had to change drastically in order to reach this place, but it has been worth it. Having a normal dog is freaking awesome, and I am thrilled beyond belief that I can enjoy her company in so many more situations now.

Kathy Sdao Seminar: Introduction/Outside the Seminar

Author’s Note: This post was written shortly after I attended the seminar. I knew I could wait until later to write about the content of the seminar because I take excellent notes, but because this post is about how Maisy did while we were there, I wrote it right away because I wanted to be sure I remembered all the details. Maisy has blossomed over the last year, so some of the things that I was amazed by back then are things I take for granted now! Still… this was an important step in our journey, so while it’s much belated, I want to preserve it.

In October, I saw Kathy Sdao for the third time (assuming you count the sessions at Clicker Expo as one). This meant that much of what she presented was review for me, so I probably won’t post as comprehensively as a result. But even if I’d heard it before, I had a great time anyway. She is such an amazing, energetic, intelligent, dynamic speaker that I think I could listen to her read from the phone book and still enjoy it.

This time was even more exciting because Maisy and I had a working spot. I was very excited for Maisy to meet Kathy (although Maisy seemed to prefer Dorothy Turley, Kathy’s assistant. Seriously, Dorothy took this picture of Kathy, Maisy, and I. It didn’t turn out well because Maisy was so squirmy, trying to get to Dorothy).

Because the seminar was held in Urbandale, Iowa, a five hour drive away, today I'm going to tell you about our traveling experiences, as well as how Maisy handled the whole thing in general. While this isn't technically about the seminar, I'm so proud of her that I just have to share.

We left just before noon on Friday afternoon because I have an Iowan friend whose house was on the way that I wanted to visit. Maisy and I spent about two hours with my friend and her 11-year-old daughter who decided Maisy was the best thing ever. Which means that Maisy spent two hours repeating the same three or four behaviors over and over and over and over again... for like five Cheerios total.

I watched Maisy pretty closely, and she was surprisingly happy throughout the visit. I did enforce a few breaks even though Maisy didn't really seem to need them. It just seemed prudent. Maisy was relaxed and responsive the entire time, which is a far cry from the dog who threatened to bite kids a few years ago. Like I said: proud.

We drove down to our hotel, checked in, and then found a park to walk in. We were surprised by an off-leash dog, and Maisy just wiggled at it, excited to say hello. Seriously? Who is this dog? Note: Ha. This behavior has become very typical of Maisy. It doesn’t surprise me at all anymore.

At the hotel that first night, Maisy barked once at the door. I decided to give her some clonidine, but I don't think she really needed it. Honestly, she did a lovely job handling all the strange noises (including another dog down the hall that barked all night long), and slept through the night soundly.

The seminar was a bit more difficult. I'd guess that there were around fifteen working teams, and probably thirty or forty people there in all. We were supposed to crate at our training stations, but I set Maisy's crate up next to me in the seating area so I could keep an eye on her. There were a few dogs who might have benefited from something similar; one barked quite frequently throughout the day- when people walked past, or there was a loud noise- in turn setting off nearby dogs.

Despite all the noise, Maisy settled in and ate her trachea treat (she won't eat chewies if she's too stressed), and then stretched out on her side and fell asleep. That's right: she slept in her crate at a dog event. I don't think that had ever happened before. Yeah, I was proud.

Still, it did take its toll on her, and she did a small bark and hop (not really a lunge, but not nothing, either) at a Golden at lunch, and later in the afternoon, growled and lunged at an adorable prick-eared dog. Although I found this disappointing, I was able to quickly redirect her back to the task at hand.

That night at the hotel was a bit more difficult; she probably barked a total of three or four times. Most were in the evening, but one was in the middle of the night. Still, she did sleep quite well. Interestingly, during the most difficult part of the evening, she chose to sleep in the bathroom away from me, returning after she had rested up to spend the rest of the night closely pressed up to me. Note: I’ve noticed this trend over and over again since. When Maisy has had a hard day, she needs space to decompress. It’s been a great way for me to gauge if I’ve pushed her too hard.

Sunday at the seminar was surprisingly good. She was quite clear that she needed to be crated in the car instead of the building (she couldn't chew or rest inside but could in the car). Still, she was eager and happy to come in to work, and didn't have any reactivity during the day. It probably helped that Sunday's training task was easier for us both, meaning that my attitude was more upbeat. Maisy feeds off emotional energy from me like crazy. Note: Okay, yes, I was frustrated during the Saturday training task, but I think there was more to it. My close friends will know what I mean when I say that this is about the same time that the fall started to get hard for me. For everyone else, suffice it to say that getting divorced is emotionally hard. Maisy reacted to that.

We drove home that night, arriving home around 10pm. Although I worried that she'd have difficulty settling in, she really didn't. She barked once, and then slept solidly until 10am the next morning, when I forced her to go out for a walk (which was really more of a stagger). I didn't see any residual stress, which is so different from the days where she needed five days to recover. Of course, I kept things low-key for several days anyway.

So she wasn't perfect, but I was so proud of how well she did. It was a really difficult situation for her to adjust to, and she did a really lovely job. Maisy will never be a “normal” dog, but she fakes it pretty well. Note: Ha. I pretty much think of her as normal now. 

Graduation Day: The VetBeh Recheck that Almost Happened

Maisy had an appointment scheduled for today with her veterinary behaviorist, Dr. Duxbury. Key word: had. We ended up cancelling it, on Dr. Duxbury’s advice.

Things normal dogs do: play, then nap.

 

 

Quick recap: At our last appointment a year ago, Dr. Duxbury was so pleased with Maisy’s progress that she gave me the option of transferring her care back to our primary vet. I chose not to do this because I wanted to maintain a relationship with Dr. Duxbury in case things worsened.

Things have changed since then. Not only is Maisy doing even better than she was a year ago (to the point that I now think of her as normal), but I also now count Dr. Duxbury- Margaret- as a friend. This means that she has seen Maisy regularly over the past year, thus alleviating my concerns about continuity of care. Still, I scheduled the appointment because I was concerned that the sudden thunderphobia that started last summer would continue this year. It hasn’t (she’s slept through the last several thunderstorms), leaving me with absolutely zero concerns about Maisy’s behavior. Margaret and I agreed that it seemed silly to bring a normal dog in.

Maisy will continue on her current medication regime because it continues to be the best thing I’ve ever done for her. I decided long ago that I would not change something that’s working so well. Of course, I will continue to run regular lab work to make sure the meds aren’t impacting her negatively, but so far, so good.

And so ends our (professional) involvement with the Veterinary Behaviorist. I will be forever grateful for what she’s done for both Maisy and for me. Margaret is an amazing clinician and an even more amazing person. The world is truly a better place with her in it, and I am so fortunate to be able to call her a friend.

Reasonable Expectations

Okay, so I can't expect my dog to be perfect. Instead, she's going to be a normal dog, and as I wrote in my last post, that means that she's going to notice environmental stimuli, she's going to react to it, and she will even vocalize at it from time to time. That's just how dogs are.

So what is reasonable to expect? I've actually been thinking about this for a couple of days, and I have some ideas. This list is far from perfect (and dear readers, might I point out that it would be unreasonable of you to expect your blogger to have all the answers?), but it seems like a good starting point.

First and foremost, it is reasonable to expect progress. This is true for all dogs, but especially for our reactive ones. Their behavior can improve. However, it takes a great deal of work, and it definitely takes time. This is the kind of training that is measured in terms of months, not days.

It is reasonable to expect setbacks along the way. I know, I know- this isn't the kind of expectation we want to have, but anyone who has worked with a reactive dog recognizes the truth in this statement. Regression in skills will happen along the way, so you might as well expect it.

Expecting the dog to relax in a new place is also reasonable, although it has taken us three years to get to that point. Maisy used to wander around the room when I took her somewhere new. If I prompted her to hold still, she would sit tensely, alerting to everything around her. These days, though, she can settle down and even nap.

 Maisy napping under my desk at work. My office has a large, open design, 

with about 10 cubicles in the immediate area- in other words, pretty busy.

Although it would be unreasonable to think that reactive episodes will never happen, it is reasonable to expect they will be relatively infrequent. Of course, this expectation carries a lot of responsbility. I must pay attention to what Maisy tells me through her body language. If I do, I have a much better chance of intervening early enough to prevent reactivity. More importantly, I must use good judgement when deciding if I should take Maisy somewhere or expose her to something, because overfacing her will result in reactivity.

These days, it is reasonable to expect Maisy to recover from stress pretty quickly. I have to very careful to reduce my demands on her following an exciting or stressful event, though. If I do, she can usually recover within 24 hours, a length of time that I think has more to do with her medications than any training I've done with her; you may have a different experience with your dog.

Another Maisy-specific expectation is quite exciting: I think it will be reasonable to expect her to go to trials- and be comfortable! It even seems reasonable to expect her to be quite successful in a ring. This still needs to be tested, of course, but as long as I define success in terms of the experience and not the result (forget Qs and placements, I am hoping she will be happy in the ring), I think it will be proven true.

These are just some of the reasonable expectations that I have. I think that all but the last two are probably true for most reactive dogs, but let me know what you think. What is a reasonable expectation for your dog? What's not? Comment below with your ideas!

Unreasonable Expectations

It's been about a year since Maisy and I embarked on the medication journey, and almost three since we began working on her reactivity. In that time, she has made tons of progress. I am very pleased with her current abilities to deal with and recover from stress. And yet, there are still times when I'm disappointed with her behavior.

For example, lately we have been heading over to a local obedience club once a week or so just to hang out. We do some mat work, and I reward calm behavior. Basically, I'm recreating our old reactive dog class in a new environment. She's doing quite well overall, especially when you consider that this club can get quite busy and chaotic, but she still has the occasional outburst.

The most recent one happened at the end of an otherwise excellent session. We were on our way out when she suddenly lunged and barked at two dogs. The handler had her back to us, checking in for her class, and her boxers were standing at the end of taut leashes, staring. Their appearance had already put Maisy on edge (she doesn't like dogs with cropped ears), and on top of that, their behavior was rude. No wonder she reacted.

Even though I understood why she behaved the way she did, I was still disappointed. I don't know about you, but for me, there is something particularly disheartening about a really great training session ending on such sour note. But I also think there might be something deeper at play. I think I might be suffering from unreasonable expectations.

It is unreasonable to expect that a dog will not notice things in her environment. She is a living, breathing individual whose senses not only work, but have been keenly honed to allow her to see a squirrel cautiously moving across an open field, to hear the grass rustling when a bunny moves, or to sniff out a rodent den. A dog can- and should- take in everything around her.

Likewise, it is unreasonable to expect that a dog will not respond to things in her environment. To do so is to expect her to disregard instincts that have evolved over the course of thousands of years. All animals, dogs included, naturally orient to signs of both potential food and potential danger.

It is also unreasonable to expect that a dog will never bark or growl. These are normal, natural forms of communication that allow dogs to mediate disputes and prevent them from becoming bloody fights. To believe that a dog will never vocalize her displeasure is to betray one's ignorance of what a dog is.

It is, in short, unreasonable to expect a dog to be perfect. So why has that been my goal?

While it's true that I personally have a perfectionistic streak about a mile wide, I think that societal beliefs about dogs may have contributed to my foolish quest. Movies and television programs tell us that all dogs should be friendly and outgoing. They should love everyone, all the time. They should be long-suffering and endlessly patient, putting up with ear-pulling and tail-tugging without protest. They should be willing to work for no more than a pat on the head and maybe a kind word. They should definitely be selfless and courageous and loyal- I grew up watching Lassie save Timmy's butt every week, after all.

Now, I'm not dumb. I know there's a huge difference between our real-life dogs and the ones on the silver screen. Still, cultural ideals run deep, and they are what I naively believed when I brought a puppy home almost five years ago. When Maisy failed to live up to my unrealistic expectations, I learned there was a word for that- reactive- and I set out to fix her.

I don't think that was wrong; several highly educated and extremely experienced professionals saw the same anxiety and overreactions that I did. Of course, their expectations were far more reasonable than my own. I clung to the hope that after a bit of training, Maisy would become a “normal” dog, which was really code for “perfect.”

I didn't realize that's what I was expecting, however, until I saw some of my friends' so-called perfect dogs act... well, normal. They barked. They growled. They sometimes even lunged at things when excited (but then, what do you expect a retired racing greyhound to do when he sees a bunny lure?).

In other words, those dogs that I thought were perfect? They're just like Maisy. Well, maybe not just like Maisy- she needs daily medication to achieve the same effect, after all- but the point stands: she is more or less a normal dog these days. The only thing holding her back at this point are my own unreasonable expectations.

While I have always loved Maisy, flaws and all, I have also struggled to accept her inherent dogginess. I need to relax, to stop worrying what others think about me and her both, and most of all, to stop trying to achieve the impossible. It's clear this is the next step in our journey. Well, if I'm honest, it's actually my journey- Maisy doesn't seem to have any unreasonable expectations for me. I guess I'm lucky that way. My dog may not be perfect, but she is pretty tolerant of my mistakes, and she definitely accepts my human nature.

I only hope I can give her the same gift.