Clean Run - February 2018 - 5

Reminder: Dogs Are Not Machines
By Sarah Stremming

There are many sport dog rearing programs and philosophies
that center on the concept of controlled resource allocation.
Heavy crate time, restrictive devices, and a weighty responsibility placed on the human half: control all access to reinforcement, all the time. The sell is seductive; just do all this, just
manipulate each tiny piece of your dog's life until it centers on
you, and you'll have that dream sport dog you've always wanted.
By this logic, anyone could have success in their sport with any
dog; whether that dog fits their lifestyle or training preferences
is no longer in the forefront.
What is forgotten here is that we are not actually talking about
machines. Your dog is not your race car that you can keep in
the garage, shining it, tuning it up,
replacing the tires, and then finally
taking out on the track. Dogs have
brains. They have minds. They
have feelings, thoughts, wants,
needs, and a complex emotional
life. Highly intelligent and acutely
aware of the importance of things
like food, water, and social engagement, yet utterly helpless to care for
themselves in our world; there is
no question that we have the upper
hand from the get-go. I suggest we
not abuse that upper hand, and the
reasons stretch far beyond ethics.
Take this familiar story: an agility competitor decides she is ready
for the next level in her new sport
puppy. She goes for a more intense breed this time, or perhaps
a more intense type in her current
breed. She has been told that with
this "upgrade" she is going to need
to be more disciplined from the start, lest her new Mali-Border-Kelpie-whatever take over her life and become one of those
kamikaze dogs on course. So from the beginning she carefully
orchestrates her new pup's day-to-day. Her pup is crated often,
trained often, and is not allowed much free access to explore
the world. He is the star of the class, but life becomes difficult
for him somewhere along the way. Some things are too exciting, some things are too terrifying, and he is unable to function without being told what to do. He is responsive to cues, but
there are times when the world is much too loud for him to hear

those cues. Because his emotions were not a part of the program, the competitor is now at a loss with her shiny new puppy.
She is frustrated and certain she went wrong somewhere. The
trainers and books and websites said that if she followed the
formula he would be perfect; but he isn't. She falls victim to internal blame and external judgement. She figures this dog was
too much for her after all.
The danger here is now that two imperfect beings (because there
is no other kind of being) are made to feel inadequate when it is
the program that is inadequate. Any training program that disregards the dog's emotional state is incomplete and must be regarded as such. The reality is that the above example is sadly not
uncommon, and it's time that the
culture in sport dog training shifts.
Perfection is an unattainable goal.
Total control over another creature
can not be gained without taking
something from them; their autonomy, their self-control, their freedom.
I suggest instead that our training
of young dogs always involves quite
a bit of empowerment and freedom.
I suggest we reinforce the choice
to engage with us heavily; but that
we are certain we have actually given the dog a choice. I suggest that
we not take unexpected troubles in
dog training as personal failures.
I remember feeling paralyzed
when Idgie was a baby. I wanted
so badly for her to be perfect. I was
desperate to have the fast, competitive, but well-controlled dog I had
dreamed about. Every single time
she found something reinforcing that was not me or related to
me, I put it under the "Sarah screwed up" column. It took me too
long to see that she could love me and agility and chasing squirrels/playing with other dogs/saying hello to her human friends. I
made a lot of mistakes that hurt us still, all in my quest to manipulate her into the dog I thought I wanted. Finally I learned that
connection can't exist where control rules. I decided connecting
with my dog was more important than having power over her.
I surrendered, and in that I found out how much more incredible she is than that imaginary dog I made up.
[continued on page 6]

February 18 | Clean Run

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Clean Run - February 2018