Thunder phobia is probably one of the most intractable problems with which dogs and their people contend. Storms and thunder propel some dogs into seemingly unbearable distress and wildly destructive behavior. Their people often feel helpless and frustrated. All too often such dogs are repeatedly adopted and surrendered to a shelter until they are adopted no more.
Welcome to the sixth and last post in our series: Difficult, Aggressive Dogs Need Strong Training. (Really?)
In this installment, John Visconti concludes his story about rehabilitating and training Pepper, the dog he adopted from a local shelter who suffers from, among many other things, severe thunder phobia.
Before turning you over to John, I want to take a moment to thank him again—Thank you, John!–for so generously sharing his and Pepper’s story. I hope their success is an inspiration, and demonstrates, by example, that aggressive, difficult dogs are not a special class dogs that need so-called “strong handling”. Rather, they are special dogs that require the kind of patient, smart, compassionate, and creative science-based rehabilitation and training that John is so ably providing for Pepper.
Part 6. SCRUNCHIES AND LAVENDER CANDLES
John & Pepper on a clear day
The thing I am proudest of is how we worked together on Pepper’s thunder phobia.
I had never seen a thunder phobic dog. It’s a pitiful sight. A few years ago, she’d start to pace before the storm arrived. The pacing would escalate to panting and racing from room to room. Eventually, that would escalate to clawing at the carpet and chewing at the baseboards and front door. Trying to corral her was impossible as she simply ran around the house the entire time.
I tried all the standards–thunder wrap, DAP, Rescue Remedy, Alprazolam, Zyklene–with no success. I tried to counter-condition her, all to no avail.
Once the storm started (and it started for her long before it started for me because she triggers to changes that aren’t apparent to me) her brain was already in full phobic gear so no behavioral approach worked. She was in a drooling frenzy. This was clearly not the time to click and reward.
As an aside, I didn’t even bother to try the approach that is often offered, that is, playing a CD of thunder sounds and systematically desensitizing the dog by slowly raising the volume while rewarding with food. Clearly, for a thunder phobic dog, there are many more triggers than sound.
Once, when putting the wrap on her, I realized, if I only did so during a storm, it would simply become part of the awful experience, or worse, a trigger. I began to put the wrap on her during good weather. I’d take her for a walk with it on. Essentially, I wanted the wrap to have a positive association.
Riding Out the Storm Together
With this as my “ah hah” moment, I decided to set up a system for us to ride out the storms rather than to try to change her responses to them.
My tools were: a hair scrunchie; a lavender scented candle; white noise machine; CD of soft music (all written and recorded by me, of course); food.
The recipe? I placed the scrunchie up high on her left leg where it meets her body. We went into my office. The candle was then lit, music started, white noise machine turned on. She was cued to go to her bed. While there, I massaged her and gave her treats.
We repeated this process a number of times. Much as I was tempted to try it during thunderstorms, I didn’t want to ruin the association. So we always practiced this routine during nice weather.
When we went live, when the thunderstorm began for her, I placed the scrunchie on her leg and into the office we went. We did the entire routine. She was still afraid, was not interested in food but she wasn’t doing any of the old behaviors. We rode the storm out.
I have since been able to simply call her to my office during storms. We use the white noise machine and the music. And she is even able to take food now.
My proudest moment occurred a few weeks ago. Late night/early morning thunderstorms were in the forecast. I went to bed that night with this on my mind. Pepper woke me up by tapping on my shoulder with her paw as if to say, “Hey, thunder! Air Raid Routine. Let’s go.” In the past, she would have awoken me by slamming into doors and running up and down the stairs.
I got out of bed, and she went directly to the office, ahead of me. And we rode out the storm.
I have no idea if she’ll find comfort, in my absence, during a storm and nor do I plan to find out.
My good buddy and mentor, Mira Leibstein, dog trainer extraordinaire, said of Pepper “She’s going to be your teaching dog.” And Mira was right. As much as I’ve taught Pepper, she has taught me much more. I am forever in her debt.
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Previous posts in this series:
Part 1: Difficult, Aggressive Dogs Need “Strong” Training. Really? (John’s story: John Meets Pepper)
Part 2: Difficult, Aggressive Dogs Need “Strong” Training. Really? (John’s story: I’m Safe. You Can Look at Me)
Part 3: Difficult, Aggressive Dogs Need “Strong” Training. Really? (John’s story: Positive Does NOT Mean Permissive)
Part 4: Difficult, Aggressive Dogs Need “Strong” Training. Really? (John’s story: Resource Guarding? Biting? Dog-dog Aggression? No Sweat.)
Part 5: Difficult, Aggressive Dogs Need “Strong” Training. Really? (John’s story: Lunging and Barking at People? Not for Long!)
Tags: Counter-, John and Pepper, John Visconti, Lavender candle, Scrunchie, Thunder phobia, Thunderstorm
