Management 101: Routines and Downtime

So, this is what I meant to post on Wednesday, but instead was consumed by the Great Off-Leash Dog Incident. Maisy's doing okay, by the way. Seems emotionally fine so far, though she does have a vet appointment next week. She continues to have an intermittent limp on the rear. It's probably nothing, but we'll get it checked it out either way.

My husband and I were on vacation last week, and so Maisy had the good fortune to spend 9 days with her aunt and uncle. (Well, okay, they’re actually my husband’s great aunt and uncle, but let’s not quibble over semantics, as fun as that might be.) She had a wonderful time: extra long walks every day, older children who were willing to throw her ball endlessly, treats that she didn’t have to earn, people home all day long, and lots of snuggle naps.

We’d been home for three days before we went back to our reactive dog class, which was, in theory, time enough for both of us to re-adjust to our regular schedules. There was only one other dog in class last night, a dog whom she’s seen regularly for half a year or so, and whom she’s basically ignored in recent months. Maisy and I pranced in, settled down on our mats, and practiced relaxing during the check-in portion of class.

And then she lost it.

Okay, maybe “lost it” is a bit too severe of a description, but she flew off her mat at the other dog every single time the other dog got up and walked around. She hasn’t done that in a long time, and she repeated this over and over, no matter how much I lowered my criteria and tried to pre-emptively stuff her full of cookies.

The instructor commented that she hadn’t seen Maisy like that in a long time, and it’s true, Maisy’s improved a lot since we joined the class last fall. And, even in this burst of reactivity, she was fairly quiet without much barking or growling, and she immediately self-interrupted and returned to me. She even bounced back pretty quickly each time, able to settle on her mat calmly after each reaction.

The whole experience really cemented in my mind the importance of creating routines for our dogs, especially the easily-stressed. The predictability of a schedule can do a lot to help the nervous among us know what to expect, and thus feel more secure and confident.

I also suspect that the reduced amount of downtime contributed to her increased reactivity. Although I often feel guilty about leaving Maisy home alone for 40-45 hours a week, I've learned that she does better when she has ample opportunity to rest. A constant barrage of stress, good or bad, will accumulate and push a dog closer to her threshold.

And while Maisy got plenty of time to rest and relax while on her vacation, the novel environment undoubtedly made it harder for her do so as thoroughly as she is used to doing at home. In addition, her naps probably weren’t as long as they likely are when she’s home alone all day.

Although Maisy had had a great time while we were gone, it was definitely a big change, and it was interesting to see how much that affected her. It was also nice to have some confirmation of how important both routines and downtime is to her.

24 Hours Later...

So, I thought I'd give everyone a quick update on how the first 24 hours after the unfortunate incident went.

First, yes, I called animal control first thing this morning. The gentleman that answered the phone was very nice. I explained what happened. He told me that since Maisy didn't have any puncture wounds, they couldn't investigate it as an aggression case, but that they'd investigate and likely cite the owners for the loose dog violation. I did tell him that I kicked the other dog, and he was very understanding. He said that I was within my rights to do whatever I needed to do to protect my dog, and while he understood that it doesn't feel good, he would have done the same thing.

Speaking of which, people have kicked -no pun intended- around some ideas here in the comments and over on facebook about what to do about loose dogs. There's no easy answer, of course. Usually I try to body block the other dog, and I'm usually pretty successful at this. I've been teaching Maisy to "switch sides" to make this easier. But this particular dog was on top of her before I even saw it coming, so I didn't have the option to body block or "switch" anyone.

Grabbing the other dog by the legs and swinging was mentioned, although I have to admit, I'm not sure I have the coordination for that. In the right situation, though, it could be a great idea.

Someone else suggested throwing treats at the oncoming dog, which is a great suggestion, and one I've heard from Patricia McConnell, among others. In fact, I did have a pocketful of kibble with me, but in the stress of the moment, I didn't even think of throwing it. I do have some reservations about this, though, as Maisy has a tendency to resource guard me when she knows I'm packing treats. In a situation like this, I'm not sure if throwing treats would be a good distraction, or if it would just create a bigger problem.

Citronella was also discussed, but I dismissed it completely, figuring that the spray would also punish or repel Maisy, making the whole experience even worse for her. Then my brilliant friend Sara suggested buying two cans: one for potential attackers and one to use in advance to counter-condition Maisy so that she associates the citronella spray with treats. I think I'm a good trainer, and one who understands the concepts behind training, but I don't think I would have ever thought of that. Seriously, remember her name, because she's going to do amazing things some day.

Anyway, the most important part is that Maisy seems to be doing well. She was completely normal at home last night and this morning. We also went for a walk again this afternoon as I didn't want to change up the routine too much. I brought a dog-less friend along so that I would have a distraction that would help keep me from being stressed and weird. (And it doesn't hurt that Maisy adores this particular friend.) We also chose not to walk down the street with the offending dog, and we probably won't for a long time, which helped me stay more relaxed, too.

As proof of her ability to bounce back, she seemed emotionally fine on the walk. We walked by barking dogs without a problem. No freezing like yesterday, and nice loose, relaxed body language for the duration of the walk. I was much more liberal with the cookies than I usually am, and will continue to do that for a few days.

Of course, I don't know is what kind of fallout I'll see with Maisy's reaction to dogs in closer proximity. We won't push it this weekend because I want to give the stress hormones and the other chemicals in her brain time to recede. Even so, class next week is liable to be interesting. I'll have to remember to keep my criteria low and my rate of reinforcement high. I know Maisy and I can work through this, I just need to let the past remain in the past.

I am slightly concerned about her physical condition, though. Maisy got stiff halfway through the walk and began limping on the rear leg again. She even asked me to carry her part of the time. Clearly, I'll need to keep walks shorter for the next few days, and if it doesn't clear up, we'll make an appointment for next week.

Anyway, I'll try to return to our regularly scheduled program this weekend. Maisy has clearly moved on from this incident, and I need to do the same. There's no use in dwelling on it, and in fact, that might only make matters worse. Of course, I'll let you know if anything interesting happens, but from now on, I'm not going to worry about it.

Attack!

This is not at all the post I was planning to write tonight. For one thing, I have several more Suzanne Clothier seminar recaps left to go, and for another, I had already started drafting one about the importance of routines for our reactive dogs. However, life has intervened, and I simply must talk about it.

When I got home from work today, I took Maisy for our usual afternoon walk. We generally follow the same path, and today was no exception. I headed up the same street we always take. The only real difference is that today I didn't have my iPod on. (Is it geeky to listen to dog training podcasts while I'm walking the dog?) I'm glad, too, because as we began to walk by a particular house, a large, dark grey dog came out of nowhere and bowled Maisy over. I didn't even see the dog coming- it was just all of a sudden there.

So, Maisy's on the ground, yelping, I'm holding on to her leash, which is inadvertantly jerking her around as she tries to escape, and there's this huge dog trying to do who-knows-what to her. I've got about a million thoughts running through my head: Should I drop the leash? How do I get this dog off? Is Maisy okay? How can I keep her safe? Does she know I'm trying to protect her?

In the end, I held on to the leash, though after an emergency call to one of my trainers, I decided that next time I'll drop the leash. She probably could have gotten away, and she has a darn decent recall; she would have come back. Getting jerked around on the leash only prevented her from protecting herself, probably hurt and/or scared her, and was probably not very helpful.

I also did something I feel awful about: I kicked the other dog. Hard. I'm really not one to use punishment, and I was pretty angry at the presumed owner for doing so just moments later... But it was a knee-jerk reaction, and it worked; the kick stunned the dog long enough that Maisy and I were able to get away. The probable owner then grabbed the other dog by its choke chain and briefly hung it off the ground. I wanted to tell him that wasn't going to help, but what could I say? I had just kicked his dog.

Did that help the situation? Or was I at risk of redirected aggression? Will that make the other dog worse in the future? What could I have done instead? Why haven't I bought that citronella spray yet, and even if I had it, would it have helped, or would it have stressed Maisy out even more? Did Maisy see my action as protecting or defending her, or did she see it as evidence that I might be a wee bit unstable? And, what else could I have done to help her feel like I had her back?

So far as the most important question, that of "Is Maisy okay?", well, only time will tell. She seems physically okay. She was limping slightly on her left rear, but she had a chiro visit yesterday with orders to take it easy for a week due to some issues we found, which means that that slight limp could have been unrelated to this incident. But I have no idea how she is emotionally. Her immediate response was pretty good; she bounced back quickly, and we walked away eating treats without too much stress. However, later in the walk, she froze and looked worried when she heard another dog bark. What kind of fall out will I see, and when?

And... was it really an attack at all? I'm not sure. It all happened so fast, and I'm just not that good at reading dog body language. Was it simply a very over-enthusiastic greeter? I suspect so, because if the dog had really wanted to do damage, he could have.

So, if it was just a dog being a dog, albeit a poorly mannered one, should I report this to animal control? The dog was off leash, and my city has pretty strict leash laws, at least on the books. But was he dangerous? If I report this, will his owners punish him again, or worse? Will they retaliate at me because I kicked their dog? At least they live several blocks away... I'll have to see if I can report anonymously, or at least have my name withheld.

As you can see, I have many, many questions, and very few answers.

Suzanne Clothier Seminar: The Trial Environment and Reactivity

In my last entry, I discussed how reactivity is often compounded by the personality of the typical performance dog. I also mentioned that we as handlers often fail to give our dogs the information they need in order to be successful in our environments, especially the trial environment. During the weekend, I picked up two main ideas from Suzanne relating to dogs who are reactive in trial environments, and both are absolutely true for Maisy and I.

First, Suzanne said that a huge mistake handlers make is in using management far too often. Although management is often useful and necessary, excessive reliance on it can create problems. For one thing, it’s often exhausting for the handler to micromanage the dog’s every action. I know that I find trials tiring for that exact reason: I spend so much time taking care of Maisy, there’s no time to take care of me. Beyond that, management will always fail at some point. It’s impossible to control everything all the time. Somewhere along the line, we will fail.

At this point, an audience member asked what she should do with her dog. If she doesn’t manage him closely, he’s snarky with the other dogs there, which is clearly not acceptable at a trial. Suzanne’s response really struck me: “Have you taught him how to deal with crowds? He might be missing a skill he needs.”

Maisy certainly has impulse control issues. She finds it hard not to try to go visit other dogs. The problem with a trial is that there are so many other dogs, it seems like she gets over-stimulated, tired, and then reactive. Perhaps gradually exposing her to longer and longer periods of time in chaotic environments would help her learn how to deal with the stress of a trial site. Beyond that? I’m not sure what other skills to teach her. How to walk by (and ignore) other dogs, I suppose, and maybe a relax or settle cue. I’ll need to think more about this (suggestions welcome).

The other big idea I picked up about reactivity in trials had to do with handler nerves. Performance dogs are often very sensitive to their handlers- it’s part of what makes them so good in the ring. The problem with that is that when we get stressed out because we’re nervous about being judged, the dog can’t understand that. We may know that it’s all in fun, and that the outcome ultimately doesn’t matter, but our dogs have no way of understanding that. We must, Suzanne stressed, learn to deal with our issues away from our dogs. After all, if you are at the center of your dog’s world and you fall apart, the dog has nothing to lean on.

This, too, really struck me. When Maisy and I went to our first trial just over a year ago, I had no idea what to expect. I certainly didn’t know enough to be nervous! I thought we’d go for the experience, and hoped that by the end of the year, we’d have just one qualifying run. Instead, we titled that weekend. Maisy did great. The next week, when we started our first reactive dog class, the instructor told me she’d seen us at the trial, and couldn’t understand what a happy dog like Maisy was doing in that class.

We went to a total of five trials last year, and at each one, Maisy became progressively more reactive. At the same time, I became progressively more nervous during each trial. I am quite sure that we were both feeding off the other’s negative emotions, and I'm worried that we’re at the point where I’ve conditioned negative feelings about the environment in general, even if I weren’t nervous. Of course, I am nervous, and not entirely sure how to conquer my ring nerves. Again… suggestions welcome!

A few weeks ago, my trainer asked me if I thought I was going to enter Maisy in the next rally trial. I answered that it depended on whether or not Maisy was ready. Then I stopped, and amended my statement: “It depends on whether I’m ready.”

Although I believe Maisy has some limitations due to her reactivity, I do have to wonder how much I’ve contributed to it. She is an incredibly sensitive dog, and while I’m often glad she trusts me as much as she does, I feel awful that I can’t be a better partner for her… which is probably why Suzanne’s words hit me as hard as they do. I don’t think there is any point in regretting the past- you can’t change it, after all- but it does challenge me to think of ways to improve in the future. And knowing is half the battle.

Suzanne Clothier Seminar: Performance Dogs, Their Personalities, and Reactivity

Although the “this is how to work with a reactive dog” information was interesting, Suzanne’s take on the causes of reactivity took things to a whole new level for me. She said that one of the major reasons dogs become reactive is because we as handlers fail to give our dogs the tools and information they need to be successful in the environments we’ve created for them. This is especially the case for performance dogs, both because the environments are more demanding, and because the dogs themselves are generally different, personality-wise, than the typical pet dog. Today, I’m going to talk largely about the way the performance dog’s personality affects reactivity.

Performance dogs are usually chosen because they are smart, confident and highly responsive to humans. These factors make the dog very good at their jobs, but they also come along with certain drawbacks. For one thing, Suzanne pointed out that responsive dogs typically have more trouble modulating their emotions and actions. Plus, as a result of being smart and confident, they tend to assume that they know what you want, and then react based on faulty assumptions. And of course, there is the ever-present problem of mistaking overly aroused, out of control dogs for ones with “drive.”

The problem is often compounded because it’s so much more fun to teach skills, especially fast-moving, highly-active ones. As a result, we often shape our dogs into frantic beings who don’t know how to relax. What we really ought to be doing with them is laying a groundwork of self-control, such as through off-switch games, also called jazz up and settle down.

We can also get more impulse control from our dogs if we teach them to wait for explicit directions, especially when it comes to exciting things like greeting people and other dogs. We can help them out by teaching them that just because they want to go say hi, it doesn’t mean they get to. If saying hi is dependent on receiving permission from the handler, the dog doesn’t make the assumption that he’s allowed to say hi to everyone.

Further, by keeping these greetings short, we can ensure the dog is successful in his social encounters. Some dogs become reactive because, while they desire interaction, they don’t have the social skills to maintain an ongoing interaction with strangers. We can help them build these skills by following the three second rule: we cue our dog to go say hi, count to three, and then call the dog away. Suzanne said that most dogs won’t disengage, even when they’re uncomfortable, because to do so would be rude. We can relieve that discomfort by calling them away, assessing their feelings, and allowing them the option to return-or not- dependent on their comfort level.

These responsive dogs are often quite human-centered, as well, which means that when they’re faced with a novel situation, they will look to us, their humans, for information on how they ought to react. When we fail to give them the information they’re seeking, they sometimes decide that they’d best do something, because it’s clear we’re not going to. We can help them by acknowledging them every time they check in with us, even if it’s as simple as a smile and nod. “Yes, I noticed that bicycle. Interesting, isn’t it?” This way, the dog knows if they ought to worry or not, instead of making an assumption.

Unfortunately, we handlers sometimes do something even worse than fail to give information: we end up giving the wrong information. I think it’s fairly common knowledge that tension runs down the leash. Suzanne stressed that it’s important to allow slack in the leash whenever possible. We don’t want to let the dog pull us, of course, but especially during greetings, we should move closer and allow slack in the leash. This can go a long way towards reducing the tension in a social encounter.

But tension isn’t just communicated via the leash. Performance dogs are often quite sensitive to human moods, so we need to make sure that we keep our bodies as relaxed as possible, too. When faced with a trigger, instead of stiffening and holding our breath, we can be deliberately relaxed by keeping our bodies relaxed and moving loosely. A soft face, tilted head, and even breathing will go a long way towards telling our dogs there is nothing to worry about.

I got to experience the profound difference this can make the very same day I learned about it. I took Maisy for a walk, and while we were out, saw one of her triggers: someone riding a bicycle. Reflexively, I stopped dead in my tracks so that we could let it pass us without getting any closer. Of course, Maisy lunged and barked. I immediately realized that her response was the direct result of my behavior. I had, in essence, “frozen,” which in dog body language means that I was worried about something. Since I obviously wasn’t going to do anything about that scary bike, Maisy took it upon herself to protect us.

I decided to take Suzanne’s advice, so the next time we saw a bike, I kept walking, moving in a large arc away from the bike instead of freezing, and made a conscious effort to remain loose and unconcerned. It was hard, but you know what? Maisy looked at the bike, looked at me, and decided that there was nothing for her to worry about. Amazing!

Since then, I’ve been working hard at controlling my body language so that I’m sending Maisy the right signals. I’ve also been doing my best to pay attention to her requests for information, and to respond to them appropriately. It’s paying off, too. In the last two weeks, she’s done really well in a variety of challenging situations, including everything from walks by bike paths to small, crowded pet stores. I am so proud of her.

So, what do you think? How does your body language affect your dog? Do you know? Or, are you like I was, and inadvertently sending the wrong signals? I’d love to hear what your experiences have been.

Suzanne Clothier Seminar: Working with Reactive Dogs

We spent some time on both days talking about reactive dogs, and naturally, I found this to be perhaps the most useful part of the weekend. So useful, in fact, that I have to split this entry into parts! This one is about the official “how-to” of working with a reactive dog.

Suzanne’s work with reactive dogs really isn’t that much different than a lot of what is out there, but it is the subtle spin that she puts on the already familiar territory that’s fascinating. Instead of teaching a dog “watch me” or “look at that,” she teaches an auto check-in. The auto check-in has two primary goals: First, for handlers to reward their dogs when they choose to be attentive to the handler, and second, for the dog to choose to voluntarily be attentive to their human when faced with a decision.

The check-in is exactly like it sounds: Every 5-7 seconds, the dog ought to look at handler without being prompted to do so. The auto check-in depends on the dog volunteering the behavior instead of the handler requesting it because Suzanne strongly feels that a requested behavior is only as strong as the handler’s willingness to ask for it at the right time.

There are some pretty strong benefits to teaching the dog to willingly offer this behavior. Suzanne said that, in her experience, an unprompted behavior is more persistent and more durable than one which is prompted by the handler. Since the dog is choosing to check-in with the handler instead of acting reactively, it means that the handler doesn’t have to scan the environment for the dog. This allows the handler to be more relaxed, because she can trust that the dog will make the right choice. It’s also easier because sometimes it’s impossible to identify a trigger before the dog does.

In fact, Suzanne said that the handler shouldn’t scan the environment looking for triggers, though she acknowledged this is difficult. Instead, we should watch the dog, and let the dog tell us when there is something to be worried about. She told us about a neat study (I wish I had the citation) where the researchers set up a dogs and their handlers with barriers situated in such a manner that the handler couldn’t see when a trigger approached, but the dog could. When the handlers could see the trigger, the dogs reacted when it was approximately 15 feet away. However, when the handlers couldn’t see the trigger, the dogs wouldn’t react until the trigger was an average of 3 feet away.

Anyway, Suzanne said the auto check-in is truly a gift. She wrote in the hand out, “The dog himself has chosen to seek the social interaction with the handler instead of tuning them out in favor of an outwards draw by whatever is upsetting, attracting or distracting him.” This is pretty awesome, especially since prompting a check-in does very little to shift the dog’s motivation or emotions.

Teaching the auto check-in is pretty easy, as it is simply captured. Suzanne didn’t use clickers, she instead responded to voluntary eye contact by having the handler become incredibly excited, animated, and generous, with about 10 seconds of continuous reinforcement using both high value treats and praise. Dogs picked up the auto check-in pretty quickly during the demos.

The next step was to present the dog with a distraction. Naturally, she talked about thresholds, but I liked that she broke it down into distance, duration and intensity. Usually when people talk about working with thresholds, they talk about distance only. Suzanne said it’s important to control all three elements of a trigger. I understood this instinctively, but it was really nice to have it verbalized. Interestingly, when I thought about the different situations in which Maisy has gone over-threshold, I realized that most of the time it is due to duration. Yes, there are some stimuli that are too close or too intense, but if they come and go quickly, she is far less likely to react. For example, recently, a bike (one of Maisy’s triggers) came whizzing by us very fast (high intensity), and very close (about 2 feet away, so very little distance), but because it was there and gone so quickly (low duration), she was fine. (And yes, she got jackpotted like crazy! I’m so proud!)

When she presents distractions, she wants it to grab the dog’s attention. The goal is not to have a dog focused on the handler only, while ignoring the environment. Rather, she wants the dog to split his attention back and forth between both the environment and the handler without becoming overly aroused. She calls this the “think and learn” zone, and said that just as it is impossible for a dog to think when over-threshold, “sub-threshold” learning is also useless.

If the dog fails to check in regularly, Suzanne recommended using passive prompts. Instead of calling the dog’s name or using a cue, she recommended stepping into (or out of) the dog’s peripheral vision. If this doesn’t work, a light touch would be okay. As a last resort, it is okay to verbally prompt the check-in, but this would be a sign that perhaps the distraction is too great.

I liked the auto check-ins, and was very impressed by the responses of the dogs. Also, I do hope you’ll excuse a bit of self-congratulations here: I’ve always felt that playing Look at That made more sense unprompted. While Maisy does know the word “look,” I usually let her initiate the game instead of prompting it. It was nice to have some confirmation that that decision was sensible. However, I do tend to prompt Maisy with her name fairly often. It’s very useful, but as Suzanne points out, it hasn’t really taught Maisy what I’d like her to do.

I’m pretty excited to work on teaching her more auto check-ins, and to rely less on active prompts. I’m also excited about some of the other stuff I learned about reactive dogs, which I’ll tell you about soon.

Suzanne Clothier Seminar: Structure and Function

In the morning of the second day, we spent some time discussing structure and function. She defines structure as how the dog is physically put together, while function refers to how it works together. Good structure doesn’t necessarily mean that the dog will physically function well, just as a dog’s ability to run and jump and such doesn’t mean it is well-structured.

Suzanne starts evaluating a dog’s structure and function by looking at how the dog stands naturally. She wants to see a balanced looking dog. Although she didn’t define what this means, she did say that it’s fairly obvious when you’re looking at an unbalanced dog. It’s true, too. We looked at several dogs throughout the weekend, and it was pretty easy to see where certain dogs just looked off.

She also looked at the topline and the bottomline. The topline should be fairly flat and level. Any concavity to the back probably indicates a structural issue that will affect function. The bottomline, or the belly, also ought to be quite taut, especially in a performance dog. This bottomline tells you about the dog’s core muscle strength, which in turn tells you something about how the back and hips will work.

Suzanne also looks at a sitting dog. A dog who is sitting with a “tight tuck,” that is, with the hip, knee and toe lined up, has better structure than one whose toe comes farther forward. I was sad to hear this; Maisy often has her feet well under her in a loose sit. She also looks to see how long it takes the dog to shift positions. The sooner they shift, the more uncomfortable they are. She also said that if a dog never offers a sit, that is a sign that the dog has physical discomfort as well.

Next, Suzanne has the dog walk (walking is easier to evaluate than trotting) away from her and back towards her, as well as perpendicularly. She’s looking for fluid, flowing movements, and is checking to see that all joints bend. If a knee joint doesn’t bend, this will change the rotation of the hip, and eventually affect the back. She’ll also look at the range of motion a dog has. In the front legs, a normal ROM shows forward extension perpendicular to the ground.

She also sometimes checks the hocks to see if they hyper-extend. To test this, she puts gets the dog to put her back foot underneath him, and to have her put weight on it. Then, she’ll lightly push on the back of the hock (towards the front). Ideally, the hock shouldn’t move much- it should “lock” into place. This locking hock, in addition to strong core muscles, gives dogs the power they need to jump. Interestingly, in order to jump, a dog needs to be able to bring their center of gravity up to half the height of the jump before they ever leave the ground. (I did try this test out with Maisy later; she failed.)

I asked specifically about short-legged, long-backed dogs, seeing as how I have a particular interest in such dogs. Suzanne first made the point that there are no “long-backed” dogs. If their legs were of a normal length, their backs would appear proportionate. Not only that, but back issues on the short-leggers tend to be a result not of the length of the back, but rather of the structure of the leg. To make the legs short, the bones need to change. If you ever look at the front of a short-legged dog, you’ll notice that the bones curve in an hourglass shape, and that the feet or toes turn out. This specifically affects the “landing gear” of a dog who is jumping. They need to get their feet underneath them perfectly. I found this bit absolutely fascinating. Although Maisy is always quite willing to jump up on to surface, like the bed, she is occasionally resistant to jumping down off a surface. That resistance makes so much more sense now.

This doesn’t mean that all short-leggers should be prohibited from jumping, but it does mean you should be very cautious, as they are more likely to develop shoulder problems in the future. When I asked if I could mitigate the effects of being short in the leg through passive stretching, Suzanne told me that I needed to ask myself if I ought to be having Maisy jump at all. She later amended this to say that a single jump, such as in obedience, is probably not a big deal, but that I should think long and hard about activities like flyball or agility.

Suzanne also stated that the longer legged dogs aren’t immune to problems. As legs get longer, the muscles do, as well. There is the same amount of muscle mass, but since the muscle is stretched, which practically means that there isn’t as much support for the joints and ligaments.

Although you can do a lot to help support your performance dog, Suzanne did say that there is a limit to what conditioning can do. You can never turn a basketball player into a gymnast, after all. Her basic rule of thumb is that if you can see or feel a bone, there are fewer muscles available to help support that joint.

The fascinating part of all of this was that Suzanne reviewed several dogs who were having performance issues- refusing to lie down on the table, getting tired quickly, etc. Each one had a physical issue contributing to their performance problem. As a result, she told us to remember that if we have a willing, compliant dog who knows what the job is and fails anyway, it is highly unlikely they are “blowing us off” or “being dominant.” Instead, it is likely there is a structural or functional problem at work. We should always trust that our dog is giving us her best effort.

I really enjoyed this section of the weekend as I knew pretty much nothing about dog conformation. I can name some of the parts, but have no idea how they ought to look, nor the implications of how they’re put together. Obviously, Suzanne had to gloss over a lot of it, but I still really enjoyed the little taste of it that I got. I will definitely be reading more on structure and function soon.