My recent post, Lunch with Turid Rugaas: Am I Driving My Dog Crazy? initially stirred a wave of reactions from readers as you can see in the comments section of the post. As naturally happens, though, after a few days of spirited back-and-forth the dialogue ebbed and I moved on to other topics.
Then, Dr. Ian Dunbar, much to my surprise and delight, last week posted a reply to Lunch with Turid Rugaas entitled Can Too Much Socialization Ruin a Puppy?, on the go-to doggie website, Dog Star Daily. This sparked a new round of comments to his blog and conversation on at least one online dog-training group that a Twitter friend pointed me to.
To begin, I want to clear up any misperception that some readers might have taken away from my post, namely, as Ian put it, “Wow! Puppy classes can damage my puppy and so I won’t enroll her in a class.” I certainly didn’t intend to convey that message. I agree wholeheartedly that socializing a puppy, literally from the first days of a puppy’s life, is not only “not damaging” but optimal, and that well-run puppy classes are an essential ingredient in a puppy’s healthy development. I shudder to think where Sadie and I would be today if not for Puppy Kindergarten Classes.
Looking back, despite the self-doubts I shared (over shared, probably) in Lunch with Turid Ruaas, rationally I do know I did the best I could with Sadie considering that her beginnings were less than ideal and my learning curve felt as steep as if I were trying to scale Mt. Everest. Thankfully, Nana Will and Gigi Moss, both excellent reward based dog trainers, began guiding Sadie and me up the mountain within a few days of her coming home.
Now, nearly three years later, Sadie and I still meet with Gigi for weekly socialization sessions in our ongoing effort to build Sadie’s confidence and ease in the world at her own pace. Sometimes Sadie’s tempo is snail slow and other times she surprises with a bold leap! There is no doubt that, as Ian said, “Living with a fearful dog abruptly causes a lengthy lifestyle change and for many months and years, the owner’s life revolves around rehabilitation and protecting the dog from her fears.” Indeed!
All that said, Turid Rugaas did touch a nerve. History, and not a few hours of therapy, have taught me to listen-up on those rare occasions when, out of the blue, an emotional tsunami hits. So what did the onrush mean this time? As I see it now, Lunch with Turid Rugaas was an early draft of my attempt to discern an answer to this question. (Perhaps I clicked publish prematurely. Oh! The perils of blogging.) Hindsight and the clarifying and heartfelt comments I received, and especially Ian’s thoughtful post, have helped me to distill my thoughts and feelings. Let me try again.
It’s clearer to me now what pulled at my heart and set my psyche rumbling. It wasn’t so much Turid’s comment about too much doing, although I think that is important and worth exploring in another blog post, rather it was her story about the German Shepherd she rescued. To my ears it seemed that Turid and the GSD felt deeply connected. They were relaxed and present to each other. They had bonded.
So what vein of emotion did this tap for me? Longing. I have longed to feel bonded with Sadie, something I’ve experienced easily with all my other dogs, including my first dog who was painfully shy, and most of my friend’s dogs. I think its one of the most wonderful aspects of having a dog. But to say connecting with Sadie has been difficult, well, that’s an understatement.
I’m reminded of a colleague, Sharon, whose daughter, Kathy, had colic as an infant. Sharon describes how Kathy seemed to be in her own world of hurt and could not be comforted. Sharon tried everything. Nothing worked. Kathy cried and cried. Endlessly. Kathy would arch her back and push away from Sharon when she picked her up. Sharon confessed that her feelings of frustration and helplessness at not being able to comfort her daughter nearly overwhelmed her capacity to empathize with Kathy. Sharon of course didn’t emotionally abandon Kathy, but she did feel deeply deprived of the bonding experience so many new mothers and babies enjoy.
My story with Sadie is similar. True, she didn’t have colic, but she did have, well, for lack of a better word, issues in addition to being globally fearful. Sadie did not like being touched. She did not cuddle or seek out affection or attention of any kind. She was so hyper-vigilant, constantly scanning her environment for signs of danger, I often felt as if I did not exist to her. Sadie easily startled. Relaxing, just laying down in one place for more than a few minutes wasn’t in her repertoire. Nothing I did seemed to help. Sadie did not, could not, make eye contact. It took hours of playing “watch me” with lures and treats for Sadie to finally lift her eyes to mine just for a nanosecond.
Like Sharon with Kathy, I felt little satisfaction in my relationship with Sadie, in particular during our first year together. My capacity for empathy, precisely that which a troubled dog desperately needs from her person, was taxed maximally. Sharon didn’t sign up for a colicky baby, and the last thing I wanted was a fearful dog who also seemed, well, mildly autistic. Detached. Unreachable. Nonetheless, I knew I had to persevere if Sadie and I ever hoped to see a better days together. And, we are seeing better days. You can read about some of some of our successes here, here, and here.
Still, Sadie’s fearfulness probably would have taken less of a toll if I knew after our difficult outings we’d snuggle in front of the fire or watch a movie and share some popcorn. Or, I think I could have responded more skillfully to her personality issues if I weren’t perpetually on guard, as she was perpetually on guard, anticipating the next new scary thing, and worried I wouldn’t know what to do to help her, especially early on.
Oh no! I would think to myself, deer in the headlights frozen, watching the woman in the mint green parka stare at Sadie as walked towards us on Pearl Street. Please avert your eyes from Sadie. Pretend she doesn’t exist. Pleeeease. Sadie does not like being stared at. It scares her. She barks at people who fixate on her. And people do gape because, I guess, either they are afraid of dogs, or because Sadie is, well, a looker. Being out and about with Sadie was, and still is, though thankfully to a much lesser degree, walking a gauntlet.
So there you have my back-story to Lunch with Turid Rugaas. Maybe it’s my story only, but… maybe not. I don’t know. But, I do wonder about the toll that caring for a fearful dog, an aggressive dog, a crazy dog takes on the dog’s person. Moving through the world, trying to see it through Sadie’s fearful eyes, protecting her from her fears, devising coping schemes for when frightening things do happen, and building her confidence continue to be huge undertakings.
I had forgotten what it was like to luxuriate in the company of a well-adjusted dog. A few weeks ago while Sadie was visiting her friend Romeo, I took my friend Pat’s three-year-old standard poodle, Baxter, for a hike. Baxter was confident, socially appropriate with other dogs, and loved meeting people from whom he avidly sought head rubs and butt scratches. He walked beautifully on a front buckle halter, and when off leash stayed near by and came when called. What a joy and what a difference to walk the stunning Sanitas Valley Trail and be able to take in the beauty of the surroundings with Baxter.
I don’t mean to give the impression that Sadie possesses none of Baxter’s exceptional attributes. She too has good doggie social skills, walks nicely on a leash, and her recall is dynamite. The difference was that I didn’t have to be vigilant for Baxter all of the time. I wasn’t worried about scary things, like a lone runner, suddenly popping around the corner. I wasn’t constantly reconnoitering. Baxter and I were boon companions. Equals in spirit. That walk was a little taste of heaven.
There is a lot of invaluable information available, especially on the web, for how to help fearful and otherwise troubled dogs. Two of my favorites you can find here and here. Nonetheless, unless I’m missing something, I’ve found little written that explores the doubts, worries, anxieties, frustrations, disappointments, and yes, triumphs, that are part and parcel of life with a fearful dog.
As I picked my way through the aftermath of my lunch with Turid, questions such as these kept surfacing:
What is it like for you to care for a fearful dog? How do you deal with the heartbreak? Or, how did you overcome the heartbreak? Has anyone with a fearful dog just felt, “Hey, no sweat. I’m up for this!” I’d love to hear your story! What’s worked for you and your dog? What have you learned about what’s helpful not only for your dog, but for you? How have you adjusted your expectations of what your dog is willing to do and capable of doing, and not? How have you come to terms? What is your story?
Am I the only one curious about questions such as those? Am I alone in wanting to hear these stories? To learn from them? Am I the only one who senses that sharing such stories might be consoling and healing for people in the trenches with their fearful dogs? I’d love to know what you think. Maybe we can begin a conversation.
In the meantime, I promised Sadie a hike with her buddy Romeo. So here I go a reconnoitering!
I like your ways of thinking about how dogs act.
Deborah, your account of this whole scenario is so touching. You really highlight an important point that’s so easily forgotten – behaviour modification programs concentrate on the dog and her issues but the person at the other end of the leash is about to have their life changed too. I too own a fearful/reactive dog who, now at 9 years of age, is a million times better than ever but I am never not scanning the horizon to make sure the coast is clear. It has just become part of life but sure can be exhausting. Its so easy to give up and move the dog on (this is not an usual occurence 🙁 ) but to persevere as you have is admirable, so much so I can hardly put into words.
Perhaps the next endeavour will be excellent resources for the people at the other end of the leash. The forum you have provided here is a great start.
Keep on keeping on,
Anne & Rufus
Anne
Thank you, Anne, for your thoughtful reply.
You sparked a couple of things for me. First, I wonder (and not being a dog trainer by profession, I really don’t know) if one of the reasons for there being so little help specifically for, as you say, the person at the other end of a fearful dog’s leash, is that dog trainers and behaviorists are, of course, focused on helping the dog and, often find it difficult to deal with the dog’s person (people). I totally get this! So, now I’m curious about dog trainers stories about dealing with dog owners. OMG! I can only imagine.
Second, I’m curious about what is positively reinforcing to the fearful dog’s person. What keeps us hanging in there? I think the answers to this question are probably complex and multifaceted. But, now I’m asking myself. Maybe a new blog post in the making 😉
Its such an interesting topic.
I am a professional R+ trainer and I guess the ‘pressure’ is there for us to train the dog – I am consciously aware that teaching the owners is the big thing that we do. When I work with a dog-handler team I understand that I am not dealing with a seasoned dog handler and that in itself is the basic challenge – just teaching the mechanics of dog handling, like holding leash, clicker, treats etc. Then having to explain complex issues such as fear is even more difficult. This is of course not to lay the ‘blame’ on the owner – not at all, i would never consider them to blame for any mistakes that may have been made. When working with reactivity I find that my most important role is to show them how to live with their dog (which is much harder than carrying out controlled training exercises) and then offering as much support as possible. It helps for them to see my dog and how far he has come (always a ways to go though!).
Working in the R+ field is a help as these same ideals applied to dog training can easily transfer to offering human support.
There must be some motivation to stick at this sort of work but as you say it is a complex and individual issue – not everyone is willing to do it. I know that in the first few weeks of having my dog I was close to returning him to the pound – I was so tired and so stressed that that just seemed easier. But looking back I know I couldn’t have done it and am glad I didn’t – I guess there is R+ in that.
Can’t wait to read your thoughts on this!!
Hi Anne,
Well, I’ll start again. The internet gods just destroyed my first reply to you!
Thank you for your thoughtful reply. I am totally with you. I was so stressed out that I nearly returned Sadie to her breeder, Fran, on several occasions.I called Fran frequently to complain that I “did not want a fearful dog!” Obviously, I kept Sadie. And this is where your last comment comes in, I guess I found it was (and is) profoundly +R when something our trainers taught me to do actually worked and I could see improvement in Sadie. Even better is now that I have some knowledge of DS/CC and +R and I come up with something on my own that helps Sadie over a hump. That is very seductive and keeps me going.
Also, I would have loved to seen my trainer with her own fearful dog. (One of Gigi’s dogs is fearful).I think, as you say, that would be hugely helpful. I know I was, and I still am, looking for ‘how to be’, a role model for relating to my fearful dog and dealing with emotions and are sometimes still very difficult. Maybe dogs not so much, but humans learn by imitating each other (at least that one way we learn). So to see someone I respect working with their fearful dog…I want that!
Another thing you said caught my eye “Working in the R+ field is a help as these same ideals applied to dog training can easily transfer to offering human support.” YES! Maybe I’ll just have to go to dog training school so I can be and feel more competent, but what I would really love is for a great +R dog trainer to train me–with a clicker and +R. Really, I’m not kidding. And, to give me feedback about what I’m doing with my body, and hands, and treats, all of it. Theory too. I know that’s way more than most ordinary dog owners want, but I guess I’m just a glutton 😉
Dog trainers using TAGteach to teach human part of the equation? Sounds like an excellent idea – I would love if the majority of fearful dog owners were like you and others around here – there would be a lot of happier fearful dogs out there.
Perhps the first part of a training course should be just owners learning mechanics, than applying that to dogs. I know that that is pretty much the way I learned clicker training (after years of non-clickering) – lots of practice on timing and mechanics before inflicting my lack of skill on my hapless pup!!
Don’t sell yourself short – we learn so much from ‘difficult’ relationships, you prob know more about dealing with fear in dogs than many trainers I have come across 😉
Def more to explore here…
Anne xxx
TAGteach humans to train their fearful dogs! YES! I’m there.
And, thank you very much for your kind words. It means a lot.
Deborah
That is the course I dream of doing, just clicker training people, explaining principles then they go home and put it to work themselves. So far I have no takers on it though 🙁
Hi Barrie,
Well, perhaps we, ordinary dog owners who want to build their skills and competence, are a rare breed. Bummer. Still, I would love such TAGteaching and I might add, I then would want feedback while my TAG teacher observed me working with my dog, or any dog.
As for Max, ah, I’d love to help you, but…
xxxx
Deborah
Yup. I’ve got it too — social dog envy. Frankie too is a looker and when he’s walking with me on a leash he gets lots of positive attention by way of passing comments about how cute he is and how happy he looks. When I stop and talk with other people and their dogs, however, he generally hides behind me and/or shakes. Then the focus becomes his fear, not his charm. It galls me to stand around while other dogs interact with each other and Frankie is sidelined; not only does Frankie not have a chance to shine, but his fear somehow feels like my fault.
All this to say that, as always, I feel your pain, and appreciate your articulating it so well.
LOL! You nailed it! “Social dog envy.” Well, at least this a real phenomenon unlike that other envy that shall remained unnamed.
Wow! Having very successfully rehabbed one dog and still working on dog number two, I can’t imagine doing it with a non-needy dog. What kept and still keeps me going is how dependent Fancy was and Jellybean is on me as being their only safe person in the entire world. It is a huge responsibility but there are a lot of pluses to it just as there are to dog guardianship in general.
That idea is so alien to me that I just forget that Sadie is not a snuggler even with you. I mean, sure Jellybean won’t let anyone BUT me touch her but I am her one and only and she crawls in my lap both to escape scary things and just because she wants to interact with me. I have only ever had one foster dog who did not want to be petted at all.
I just can’t imagine going through all that one has to go through with a fearful dog without having that bond with the dog that it is the two of you against the world 🙁
You said it so well! You really ‘got’ it. I’m glad you’re JB is a cuddle bunny. I know you work so hard with her, having those sweet moments together is great +R 😉
Wow, I loved this post (and all of your others). I admire you for sticking with your pup, even if she wasn’t bonded or connected to you as other dogs seem to be. I have the same problem with my 7yo Border Collie–fearful (and has a urinary tract disease and high PH, so that may contribute) –and one lovable but dog-aggressive dog. Both are fearful for different reasons and feed off of one another. Scanning horizons and always explaining are my MOO. Gigi is a wonderful trainer (I used her for a long time, which helped both dogs). I can so relate to your words and the comments here. But the most emotional part is the lack of connection with my 7yo.
Wow, Hilary. You really have your hands full. I know just what you mean about “scanning and explaining”! I should have a recording I could play. I say the same thing over and over to people, one right after the other, like today when Sadie and I were shopping. Sadie loves stores and is fine with people as long as they don’t stare at her or reach out to her–which, of course they do. I’m so sorry about your 7yo. I wish for you and her that she could be more overtly related. I know how hard that is.
Thanks for writing the follow up. She really does sound autistic-like. Just today when I was working both my dogs I realized how much I enjoy having a dog I can just “be” with and take any where and not always having to have eyes in the back of my head along with x ray vision and supersonic hearing. I do agree with Barrie, not having me be the everything, would make rehabbing fearful dogs really really difficult. We had one foster dog here, Callie, who we called “50 First Dates”, after the Adam Sandler movie. Even if she was cuddled up to us and we got up to go to the bathroom, she was right back in her hell when we came out. It was hard not to take it personal. I knowingly (sort of) adopted my special needs dog, but if I went to a decent breeder for my next “everything dog,” I would have a really hard time if I ended up with (another) fearful special needs dog. Thanks for posting both of these.
HI Nancy
Thanks for your reply and sharing your stories. You’re so right about it being hard not to take it personally! Maybe that’s partly what I’m learning from Sadie. And, yeah, that 360 x-ray vision and supersonic hearing thing is tough to master for me also. Hell, I’d settle for 360 vision without the x-rays! Thanks again. BYW I admire the fostering that you and Barrie do. I’ve never fostered a dog. Maybe I should.
You can start right now, I’ll ship Max right out to you
Having dogs w/ shy fear reactive issues is difficult at best. Even though I too have too scan when walking dogs, I feel I have more control with them with BAT training. Though they can & do get along w/ other dogs, they need time ,lots of rewards and now I never take dogs over their threshold. I refuse to just leave my dogs in the yard and not deal with it. It have a long road ahead of me but seeing results with my dogs(I have ),gives me the strength to carry on. Keep up the good blogs ,ppl with shy fearful dogs unite.
I must say that understand you feelings and can empathize. I have known and still know that heartbreak of not connecting with your dog. When I got my yellow Lab, Sand, 6 years ago she was always a bit distant from me. She never trusted me to get her out of a tight spot and responded with aggression. We worked through the aggression and was able to play Rally-O together, but we never had that spark that I have with my other dogs (though Suzanne Clothier says that this little Lab looks at me like I’m the sun, moon, and stars – I never felt it). Despite all of the titles we earned, all the classes we attended to build our relationship, I still feel distant to her. What bugs me the most is how easily she bonded to my father-in-law. She lives for him. She lights up when he walks in the room, and while I’m happy that she has bonded with someone, I still wish that person was me.
I have often asked myself the questions that you posed, I’ve sought the answers from books and fellow trainers. I still don’t have many of the answers, but I’m okay with that now. Sand and I have moments of true bliss together and I’ve come to value those more than anything.
Hi there Deborah
Your words, “longing” “to feel bonded” with Sadie really struck a note with me. Years ago, after my first Malamute, Omaha, had wrecked a TV set (on a live show) I realised that he would never lie down next to me at home. A very independent dog. So, I changed things. In the morning I would weigh out his kibble for the day and kept it in a container on my desk next to my computer. I fed him throughout the day. After about three days, I noticed that he was now spending much more time lying next to me as I worked. Then … just 10 days later, while engrossed in work, I noticed that he was sitting next to me with his chin resting on my lap. He wanted to be petted. The transformation in his personality was positively HUGE and the transition was surprisingly quick. Omaha became one of the most affectionate dogs that I have ever known. The point of the story (please indulge me here because I am talking about the dog-love of my life), if we’ve missed out on yesterday, everything starts today. We should never give up when feelings are at stake. Irrespective of what you have tried, I would move Sadie’s bonding and confidence-building exercises into overdirive.
The most important rule is that you never (NEVER) feed Sadie from a food bowl — what a waste of classical conditioning and confidence-building food rewards. All food comes from the human hand, firstly only from your hand, whenever you are sitting in one place at home and of course, in the great outdoors.
Now, when outside, do not walk Sadie — much too much sensory input and constant environmental change for a fearful dog. Instead, go outside your house (or drive her to other fairly quiet locations) and sit comfortably in a chair and give Sadie plenty of time to settle down. Eventually she will feel more relaxed about the environment. Since you are both still, you may now concentrate on a single environmental change at a time. This empowers the classical conditioning process. (Additionally, these treasured human/dog quiet moments offer a wonderful opportunity for reflection. WE need this on a regular basis, because life is just too fast and we miss so many good bits.) Eventually, it will be safe to walk her, but I would still stop every five or ten yards or so for her to get used to the now-changed environment and on a couple of stops, I would stay put for five or ten minutes so that she can settle down for a little classical conditioning.
Sadie will never have the confidence that she could have had, but she will definitely develop more confidence, and, she will bond.
Our latest rescue dog, Claude, was simply asocial when we got him. He had no social relationships with other dogs or people whatsoever, he didn’t know how to play, and he was scared of so much. Now he’s been with us for many years, it makes my heart cry to see just how much he loves Kelly. Never to old to change or learn, I guess.
Anyway, gotta walk the dogs and then pack for Mexico.
Ultra Mega Seasonal Woofs to you.
Great website by the way — a very interactive blog. Wish I could blog and comment like you do.
Hello Ian
Thank you so much for telling your story about Omaha. What a sweetie he was. I’ve heard you speak of him in seminars (I have some of your DVDs). It’s clear how much he meant and still means to you. You tell an uplifting tale about helping him to connect and grow affectionate. That’s really wonderful.
I’m game for going back to feeding Sadie by hand which I did faithfully for, gosh, I don’t even remember, but for many months when I first got her, but maybe not for long enough. The thing is Sadie doesn’t eat kibble, I make her meals for her and on “special days” (every 4 or 5 days is a special day) she eats yummy raw green tripe. But, no matter! While I may not keep it in my pocket, I can still feed it by hand! And, of course, she gets all sorts of healthy treats by hand throughout the day during our ongoing training, socialization and classical conditioning. A recent example of CC coming to the rescue involved my friend’s automatic garage door. For three years Sadie had not batted an eye at that garage door as we wait for it to close before entering my friend’s house since she had dogs one of whom is an escape artist. So I feel safer with the garage door closed before opening the door to the house. Anyway, Sadie, for reasons that I cannot divine, one day a couple of weeks ago decided that that garage door was no door at all but, I don’t know, maybe a guillotine? Rather than just stand at the door into the house with her tail up and wagging, as usual, she started to walk away and then back to me then away again. The beginnings of a stereotypy? If it was, I did not want to go there. So as soon as I noticed this change in behavior, I started giving Sadie goodies as soon as the door started to lower and kept feeding her until it closed completely. Within a few trials, we had achieved a CER! As soon as Sadie heard the grinding sound of the door lowering she stood still and looked up at me bright-eyed anticipating her goodie, which, of course, she got. I can’t tell you how much difference it makes to have gained a little knowledge to guide me in those situations. It is hugely reinforcing for me to be able to do something effective rather than freak out.
I’m intrigued by your idea that limiting stimulation can enhances CC. That makes a lot of sense as I think about it. And, Sadie and I will be integrating “being still” or at least not moving around so much into our routines. I agree that we need to reflect and take in our environment while being still in it rather than moving through it. I’m reminded of our recent time at Sea Ranch in northern CA (sans Sadie). We rent a house there with friends every Thanksgiving. Of course, I wanted to take the ocean home with me. (We used to live in Berkeley and I miss the ocean a lot!) But, barring that, I did learn that the next best thing was to sit still and take in the ocean rather than always hiking the trail up and down the coast. I remember little of what I saw during the hikes. But, the images that were laid down in my mind when I was still are with me now.
“If we’ve missed out on yesterday, everything starts today.” Thank you for this. It’s a great reminder.
Kelly tweets about Claude now and then and how affectionate he is with her–I love those tweets, especially when she include pictures!
Thank you again for your wise eply and kind words. It means a lot to me. And, have a wonderful trip to Mexico.
Hi, I am a trainer educated by Turid and to me socialization means giving the positive experience with new things. The key word here is setting the dog up for success. In no way the feelings of being overwhelmed or losing the control can help with socialization. In a new situation the puppy can show some curiosity, depending of his stage of developement – a little fear maybe, and then he shall find the best solution for him – to solve the conflict with calming signals, to “ask” the owner, to back away or to move forward. Anything that will help him from his emotions taking the control over him. When overwhelmed the puppy will start to run away, to run in circles, to jump at the owner or to play boisterously with other dogs. And this is not a socialization.
So, the idea is to teach the dog that he can be succesfull with new things and you can start this lesson at home or at the big distance from new things. It is not the question of letting the puppy to experience new things – it is a question of letting the puppy to experience a success. He can and should learn new things for his all life.
Magda
Thank you so much for your touching reply. I’m so glad to hear from someone like you who has studied with Turid. I love how you describe socialization. So succinct and so insightful.
Deborah
Deborah,
Oh, I could write pages, but here’s my thought on, “How have you adjusted your expectations of what your dog is willing to do and capable of doing, and not?”
What has been helpful on my journey with my fearful dog is milling over the expectations we put on dogs in general. Frankly, I think they’re crazy. We expect dogs to be loyal, our best friends, give unconditional love. It seems to me that we have heaped onto canines all the things we want, but that take so much work to find with other humans. We also don’t put the same expectations on any other domesticated animal. (And let me tell you, my dog is loyal around food, her best friend has four legs and lives next door, and her love comes under many conditions: Best between 5 and 10AM, generous on arriving home, will not happen after the sun goes down.)
Not only do we load our dogs with our emotional baggage, but we expect them to fair perfectly in a human world. They need to know how to behave indoors, among guests, with other animals. And really, what we ask of them is against instinct. Thinking of all predator behavior. . .Animals will take an easy meal. They fight. They don’t trust members of other packs/prides etc.
In some respects, I think we’ve dug ourselves in a hole in regards to companion dogs.
I think that reframing my expectations of dogs has helped me get through tough times with my fearful dog. Yes, I will always work with my dog to help her navigate my world/keep her safe/keep others safe. But, I’m able to take a step back and realize that our undertaking with companion dogs in general is pretty big. It also keeps me in check to make sure I’m finding the balance between meeting my needs with the needs of my dog.
Amber
Yes, yes, and yes! I’m totally with you. We place far too many expectations on our ‘normal’ dogs much less our fearful ones.
Thank you for your heartfelt exploration of the need to adjust our expectations of our dogs. We cut ourselves slack. We can do the same for our dogs. I don’t have to like everyone, or want to be hugged anytime a friend reaches out to hug me, or not be afraid of anything. Neither does Sadie.
Thanks again.
Deborah
Hi Deborah,
I live with a very fearful dog also. I didn’t sign up for the job. Hannah came to me as a foster along with her sister for a local rescue I offered to help (my first/last time fostering). I never knew 10-12 week puppies could be so fearful of people. And Hannah was much more fearful than her sister who was eventually adopted to another family. Hannah stayed with me-there was no where for her to go. It took me over 3-4 weeks sitting on the floor and tossing her dinner bit by bit on the floor before she got close enough to eat from my hand and later allow me to touch her. I took her and her sister to puppy socialization classes at a dog training club I belong to. Hannah could only sit near me and cower (or worse, panic) when approached by person or puppy. She is now over 3 years old. Needless to say, she is not easy to live with. While now she is mostly comfortable with me and bonded to me, her fear is so profound that she is not always comfortable even with me in certain situations, reaching for her will send her cowering, walking through doors is not always easy, getting collar and leash on can sometimes be a challenge and other such things too many to list. She doesn’t let anyone besides me touch her. She is afraid of my husband and son and barks at them like they were intruders. Never mind visitors. When out on walks, I too must be ever vigilant as she does not like unfamiliar dogs running up to her and will lunge and bark to get them to back off. (I am constantly asking people to control their dogs, even if they are “friendly”). She too is a looker and people seem drawn to her and reach to pet her which will cause her to move away from them in a panic. I have since adopting her become a certified dog trainer and have worked hard with her. I have done extensive reading, along with seminars, and sought the guidance of many local trainers I now work with. However, there is a limit to training due to her genetic predisposition to fearful behaviors and lack of domestication (think feral) despite it’s unsuitability for living with people. She is on anti-anxiety meds. These help but are not a cure-all. Hannah is who she is. There have been successes along the way. While still with many issues, she has had successes, both big and small. She has trained, competed (and Q’d) in agility and she has completed Level 1 in APDT Rally with an Award for Excellence. I can walk her down a crowded street of people and she is calm and focused on me. She can be around other dogs who are calm and don’t rush her without trouble, even able to eventually become socially friendly with them. We’ve had many tiny successes too small to mention but monumental in her progress. We have had as many set backs. Ultimately, Hannah will never be a “normal” dog. She will always have issues, I will always have to work with her with many of the day to day activities of life. I too have pangs of “social dog envy” (although, I do have another 6 year old dog who is social and has been a mentor to Hannah.) Still, my life is not what it was before she got here, and while I have grown to love her, (yes, I think her need/dependence for me has bonded me to her as care giver-my heart was hooked early on even though my head knew better) she’s not what one would call an ideal pet or companion, she will always be my special needs dog. So, where am I going with this story….I feel your pain. You are not alone with your struggles and the emotions that go with them. Hang in there. Pay attention to Sadie’s successes. She may never be a Baxter, but there is always something to appreciate with your special needs dog. Like Hannah, Sadie may never become a relaxed, social, easy going dog [they’re over rated anyway ;-)] but look to what is good for your R+, find them in the small moments of trust, small breakthroughs and the baby steps she takes to work through her fears. Know, even if Sadie is unable, as yet, to show you, that you are her person. She in turn will teach you many things, not the least of which will be compassion, patience, and resolve. I wish you and Sadie all the best in your journey.
Dear Nancy
Thank you for your moving and heartfelt story about your experiences with Hannah. Hannah’s a lucky dog to have you.
I relate to all you said, most of all, how taking responsibility for a fearful dog is a life changing event. Indeed!
It seems not a few +R dog trainers found their profession through the need to learn to help their special needs dogs. Although I don’t see myself becoming a dog trainer, at least not yet, I do know that educating myself about learning theory, fearfulness in dogs and getting professional help from +R trainers and behaviorists has helped enormously. When Sadie and I are out and about and we hit a snag, at least I don’t feel totally helpless now as I did at first. I have things to try–and it’s so rewarding when they work!
Thank you again for your generosity.
Deborah