20/08/2024
"But I use rewards... how can that be frustrating for the dog?"
I was having a chat with a colleague a few weeks back where we were talking about how one of the most useful things for us working with frustrated dogs has been precision training.
We'd noticed that the very best trainers in the dog world do so in ways that minimise learner frustration.
We waxed lyrical about just how much we'd learned from sports trainers, agility trainers, scentwork instructors and the likes.
It reminded me of that somewhat silly dichotomy that's sometimes imposed on dog training... to pick whether you 'do' behaviour or you 'do' training.
I know in some circles, being a "mere" dog trainer is sneered upon by some professionals who work with canine behaviour. Indeed, there's some push for those who work with canine behaviour to become more credentialed, more experienced, more qualified and more certified than the requirements you'd need to work as a teacher, a psychologist or even a vet.
If you don't have such credentials and qualifications, there are some people in this world who'd look down upon you.
Take me, for instance. When I was deciding what to call this whole lighten up thing, I decided on 'dog training.'
Why would I do that when I could use the professional title I'm entitled to use by my accrediting body ... that of behaviour consultant? Someone asked me that very question the other week. Was I *only* a dog trainer?
The thing is, as my colleague and I were discussing, some of the very best things we've got in our toolkit to help fearful dogs, anxious dogs, frustrated dogs, impulsive dogs, stressed dogs, phobic dogs and dogs with compulsive behaviours... well they're things taught to us by humble dog trainers.
In fact, I'd argue that those strategies have helped me more than anything.
Having great timing, great communication, sharp precision and a repertoire of training skills is hugely beneficial. It also reduces frustration hugely for dogs. I've learned more about helping dogs cope with frustration from dog trainers than I've learned from people with a raft of certificates and post-grad qualifications.
It's also the bit that many guardians find tough as well.
Take something as simple as Leslie McDevitt's Up-Down game.
Drop a biscuit on the floor. When your dog looks at you, drop another.
It's a fine way to teach dogs to check in with you and build up duration focus.
It's achingly simple too.
Or at least you'd think so. All you've got to know is to drop a biscuit when your dog looks up.
This game is often one I work on with my clients because it's a ridiculously simple solve for situations that your dog isn't ready to cope with yet.
Take my dog Lidy. She has a problem with small, fast-moving critters. Not a hideous problem anymore, but enough of one that she needs support with. The other day, I saw two squirrels cavorting as squirrels are wont to do.
I called Lidy so her back was to the squirrels that she'd not yet clocked. We went into some repetitions of the up-down game so that I could keep Lidy's focus on me, so she didn't see the squirrels that would have been very frustrating, and so I could keep my eye on the squirrels, knowing they'd probably sod off up a tree, as they are certain to do eventually.
Because she can't cope with squirrel cavorting (yet), I managed it for a bit. Then, when the squirrels had sodded off up the tree, we went and sniffed where they'd been and practised disengaging from squirrel smells. Every problem has its teachable moment.
Simple skills.
Drop biscuit. When dog looks up at you, drop another.
Notice when dog stops investigating. Say 'yes!'. Give dog a biscuit.
Like how can these go wrong?
Well, in about 84 predictable ways. I've one lovely client who'd accidentally rewarded barking in the up-down game and couldn't get her dog to stop barking and also looking. Kind of like a behavioural two-for-one.
I've got another client right now whose dog is so good at the disengage game that they're not engaging with the world. They're hanging around her like the beagle in the photo, except without the lure of a biscuit.
The truth is that anything we do with dogs to help shift their behaviour can involve frustration. Hell, picking up the dog's empty bowl can be frustrating for the dog. Leaving the dog park can be frustrating for the dog. Calling them to clip on a lead can be frustrating for the dog.
We don't need training to cause frustration.
Now I know I have colleagues who prefer a 'no-training' approach to behaviour. But as you can see from the last three examples, simply interacting with a dog can have frustrating side-effects. Frustration is insidious: it gets everywhere even if you mean it not to.
The best thing is that a lot of highly skilled dog trainers have mastered this already through sharp training. Not, as they may be dismissed by some snobs, *mere* trainers.
Gods and goddesses, if you will, of interacting with animals without adding to confusion or frustration.
We're often told we can do no harm with rewards-only approaches or no-training approaches. In reality, there's potential for a lot to go wrong, even if we don't intend it to happen.
One of the best things I did to reduce anxiety, uncertainty, confusion and frustration in the lives of dogs (and their guardians) was at least learn the principles of expert dog training and bring them to my interactions.
Knowing how to end interactions without causing disappointment, frustration or anxiety has improved things no end for my clients, for example. Precision training has taught me so much about increasing clarity and certainty for dogs. It's also helped me see just how hard it can be for many of my clients who come to behaviour change without those same skills and who find giving dogs rewards can be more challenging than they could imagine.
That's one reason I hate that false dichotomy between training and behaviour: we all have so much to learn from other professionals who work with dogs in different ways.
In the end, that wisdom has huge benefits for both the dogs we work with and their humans.
Who could ask for more than that?
