Triggering, code signals, recreating drive, and strength after a souring experience.
All we had was two weeks. Just two weeks to go until our seasonal highlight event: the Dock Dogs World Championships. Facing refusals and logical stops created at our 2020 Regionals/Nationals outdoor outing, I had to retrain my dog, earn his trust, rebuild his confidence, and ultimately convince him that playing and chasing after a toy was nothing but fun. Years of work had just been seemingly flushed away in less than a minute.
My thought was to replicate the whole scenario of a speed retrieve competition without any water exposure. The outdoor temperatures had consistently dropped into the low 30’s that week. The pond water truly had turned into just another cold, and therefore risky, option, and wearing the neoprene wetsuit would not help much as it previously did not offer enough protection under similar weather conditions at Regionals. The next closest indoor facility was 100 miles away; and just getting there, creating the almost identical replica of a previous scenario of traumatizing impact, did not make much sense to me. Even so, with the indoor water was in the 80’s, Bernhardt wouldn’t know the difference without trying. Since the actual competition does not offer any opportunity to get off the ramp first, that pattern was not a training option. Bernhardt also did not need to (incorrectly) learn that the side exit and ramp were to be used for creating some safe haven of a “let’s check the water” type of scenario. I needed to come up with something else to get our dynamic behavior pattern back by reinstating a high drive combined with triggering signals that did not take any risk of discomfort or even the smallest pain infliction.
So, I returned to one of the old exercises that used when we started out: using a double drop (or bank, as it is known in the horse world) in reverse. That setting offers beautiful training varieties because there is no front landing impact (which I try to avoid as much as possible for several reasons), it strengthens the hind end, and it offers placing options even exceeding the 40-foot distance of a standard dock. With this setup, there is plenty of space to run for the object of desire: a brand-new squeaky football. And there is no risk of disappointment, except for the occasional rabbit or squirrel that could be a sudden major distraction. Once the behavior pattern is linked to the code word and triggering body language, the actual toy truly does no longer matter that much. As long as there is just some remote interest in the target, the training sequence will work. Drive for the toy, interest, and conditioning is a whole different topic that I will explain in other posts. I hope that you can find an incentive and inspiration in my thought process on how to work when things do not work – just do not forget about the dog!
There he was: sitting in a large dog crate, looking down the barn aisle; skin and bones, covered with mange (a bacterial skin infection causing open sores and hair loss); quietly, no noise, no move. His body looked horrible enough for some folks – admittedly, including me – were hesitant to even touch him. This puppy was seen strolling along the sides of roads and was picked up by one of the borders boarders of a horse farm where I was working as an interim trainer. I had never seen something like this, never been involved in an active rescue of the remotely heavier sort that would challenge human minds so severely. All I felt was total upset, sadness, and anger towards those who were such cowardly, inhumane characters by simply dumping this six-month-old creature somewhere, somehow, some place. I silently observed from a distance while the more experienced people around began to organize and then take charge. It was not the first time that a dog had been dropped, leashed to a tree or the gait, or had just wandered into the property of this horse farm or found nearby. The farm owners were known for historically giving first aid and selfless care to many rescue dogs. Looking at this quite banged up animal, there was this one thing that truly stood out to me and the one thought that almost instantly conquered my heart: it was the way the puppy carried himself, his inner demeanor, and the aura of mental strength lingering around his physical presence.
His hind legs were barely holding him up.
Slowly back to normal eating.
“He looked kindly and forgivingly at the humans around him, even eager to meet someone sitting there stoic and firmly. His weakened physical posture was a serious display of pride and royalty. His self-carriage was that of an unbroken spirit and his mind seemingly knew that he had made it, he had survived and was about to live.”
To me, his demeanor was admirable and heroic, a true reflection of Christianity. This was a religious lesson taught by an animal. He had not given up on humans, not lost any hope, and he had elevated himself far above the circumstances that brought him here. He had set one goal, a priority: to live. He acted without any anger, no aggression or frustration, simply friendliness and forgiveness. The simplicity of that was a very powerful message and one I will never forget.
One of the girls at the barn took this little dog out of the dog crate that was placed close to a horse-washing stall and began to bath him with warm water, shampooed his coat and skin with non-burning antiseptic horse shampoo, and towel dried him off. There was no noise, no movement, no resistance, no fear. The little fellow was displaying the most amazing behavior I had ever seen; being a lifelong animal trainer and person around all kinds of animals and situations, I truly have seen a lot. He simply enjoyed the gentle help and care.
Eventually, I asked one of the owners about the kind of dog he might be, to which she answered, “Well, it looks like a Pitbull-mix with some Labrador in it.” Coming from Germany, a country with strict regulations about dogs with Pitbull breeding, I instantly had a yellow light flashing in my head. The regulations in Germany for these breeds included wearing a muzzle at any public outing, a permanent ban for importing into the country, and a stigma of attacking and even killing people. The internal alarm I had was based on this information, all I really knew at that time. Needless to say, I was rather curious, suspicious, and slightly prejudiced for a moment. But then my animal trainer spirit took over. I have always favored the challenge of the seemingly impossible, always welcomed mental or physical quests to build up from distrust, harm already done, damaged spirits and hurt emotions. My favorite experience has always been to outperform together with an underdog… but this had all been within the horse world. And this was not my dog anyways. So, I kept an open mind, remembering that all that matters was participating in improving this dog’s condition and getting him back on track.
After the bath, the girls took turns taking him on very short walks. Finally at the end of the day, the crate was relocated to the barn office, padded with a large towel and a water bowl added. Due to the severely emaciated condition of this dog, food was only given in very small portions on a frequent basis. In fact, due to his very spontaneous arrival, there was not much of a dog food available. One boarder at the barn brought a couple cans of dog food as well as dry food later that day. Nobody was truly prepared for this kind of a find. That all changed quickly. The puppy was given a small heater (from in safe distance) as it was the very end of February at this time. A veterinarian appointment was already scheduled for the following day. He was safe in his crate with the future ahead of him.
My residence was a predetermined camper unit located alongside the hay barn, about 40 yards from the barn office. I had a routine of walking the barn and farm property at night and eventually I would be last and only person on the property. The routine was also to make sure that all horses were alright and anything else, such as turning lights off or checking on water buckets. I enjoyed the quiet evenings, just being outside.
I added a new stop to my routine. I went to the office door and just put my ear to it, but there was nothing to hear. It was just stunning to me how either exhausted or self-assured this little dog must have been. Even during the night and in the early morning hours of the following day, there was still nothing to hear. There was no indication of a very young dog in a totally strange environment with strange people locked up in a strange crate. Nothing. He never made a single noise.
A head. Never with any anger, aggression, or fear. There were almost no emotions at the beginning: only questions.
