Training Days

People often want to train dogs for a living because they love animals and prefer their company to that of people. Unfortunately, the trainers soon learn that dog training is less about handling our loyal companions and more about dealing with difficult humans.  (Read: I am that difficult human.)

It took some time to get the financial approval for Missy to get someone to train her besides me who was merely trying to learn to teach via youtube videos. I had told Belinda, “Missy either needs to get trained, or someone needs to train me to train her.”

I had no idea they would take the second option.

It had been my hope that she would go to boarding school. Not because I don’t love the lass, but because I felt she would get excellent training, some socialization, and if I got a job while she was away, I wouldn’t feel as though I was abandoning her. Instead, after speaking with the trainer, David, everyone involved (aside from me) decided that it would be best if she learn and stay in this “perfect” foster home where she didn’t have other dogs around and she could relax.

A dog that needs training isn’t a “bad dog.” She’s not a “evil dog” who is actively trying to piss you off. A dog that needs training is a dog with psychological issues that no one ever attended to. In Missy’s case, she’s hypersensitive. She barks at the slightest noise outside. Her eyes dart everywhere when she’s someplace new. She lacks focus and stability. 

And yet with all that, she’s fucking brilliant.

 

No, seriously, to put it in my native New England speech with a hint of Bostonian, “She’s wicked smart.” She’s been self-reliant for so long with no human to guide her, that she’s developed into quite a genius.

Poor David, who wants to train dogs such as this brilliant pittie, is sadly stuck with my poor excuse of a human brain to mold. It’s evident from the onset that Missy’s intellect to pick up new habits is far better than my coordination skills to lead her into such habits.

Missy had to break some habits to learn new ones, but I had to untrain myself how I had been trying to teach her. This was why I wanted her to go to a professional. I wasn’t doing it right. Granted I wanted to learn, but as a perfectionist, I am quite short with myself when I don’t immediately pick something up. And unlike a dog who might get frustrated and whose only expression of such a little nippiness or grumbling, David had to hear my mouth going.

Which evidently, is one of my main errors: I talk too much. Who woulda thought?

“Just say the command once. Never repeat. People use too many words,” David explained.

So now, rather than repeating a word half a dozen times, it’s more sing-songy as in “Come... Come... Come--Shit!” as I acknowledge my error and try to force myself not to repeat the word.

Missy enjoys the game of learning “Come” which involves me throwing a treat for her to get and then as soon as she gets it, yell, “Come!” and she returns immediately for another treat. I’m supposed to be calling her away from distractions, but being on my own, I have to create my own distractions.

David believes in “The Mat.” It’s not a dog bed, but a simple mat where Missy learns “Go to your mat,” which means she goes and lies down to wait for me to tell her it’s Okay to get up. At first I was a annoyed with this, as my main concern was walking her on the leash, but after a couple of goes on The Mat, I could see that David’s chronology of lessons made sense.

The Mat isn’t just a place to sit and lie down. It’s a Yoga Mat of sorts. Here, Missy gains focus and attention. She must concentrate to stay Down while I walk around and away from her. She must be patient to receive her treat without grabbing it out of my hand.

The Mat is the foundation of focus.  (And yes, she needs to work on her aim for getting onto the Mat.)

I noticed her being calmer after our work on it. Granted, after our first session with David, the girl was more tuckered out than I had ever seen her. David was right: a dog’s brain burns more calories than her body. After our hour and a half introductory lesson where Missy excelled and received a pound of sausage in rewards, Missy didn’t even bother to join me for dinner. 

She zonked out on the couch, and stared glassy-eyed at the TV for the rest of the night.

Subsequent training sessions didn’t elicit such a reaction, but she does seem more focused. That being said, just like me, that doesn’t stop her mouth from going.

David has said that with the focus and training, she should stop being so barky at everything around her. I think she’s just got a lot to say. If we’re about to go for a walk and I pick up my phone to respond to a text, she’ll sit and stare at me for half a minute. Then a little grumble begins to come from her throat. It rises up for the next ten seconds until it erupts into a full blown frustrated “Let’s Go!” in canine-speak.

My instruction to stop the barking is aversion therapy. If she barks, call her to me and give her a treat. “But then she thinks I’m rewarding her for barking,” I said.

“No,” David replied. “You’re rewarding her for coming and sitting.”

“So when she arrives and sits, and I give her a treat and then she barks again with her mouth full (which is exactly what she does), what do I do?”

I’m not sure if David understood, as he didn’t give me a viable solution.

During my first session, I told David that Missy was treat-driven. She did as he said because he had treats. He said, “No, she does what I say because of how I’m communicating with her.”

And yet, without a treat, she doesn’t do crap for me. I told him that upon our second session. He said, “Eventually you phase out the treats. For now, you need them.”

So, my guess is that it is a combination of how we communicate and the treats.

Interestingly, Missy does not allow David to touch her the way I do. He said if she doesn’t Sit, I can gently touch her behind, but he can’t. He showed me, his finger just alighting on her backside, and Missy’s head whipped around, ready to snap.

I, on the other hand, have full reign. I had been fully taking for granted the trust this dog put in me. We’re at the end of a full four weeks now. The longest foster here. All my others moved on within a month (except for the legendary Tia who, had I had this house back when I had her, she probably would still be with me.) It is only now that Missy has finally relaxed enough to sleep on her back—which is how I’m used to seeing my fosters snooze.

Missy’s a tough chick from the streets. When she meets you, she needs to tell you up front and loudly, “Don’t fuck with me, or I’ll fuck you up.” Once she has sufficiently terrified you with her menacing approach, she sniffs, bows her head and then leans into you for a pet.

This is a major problem.

I want to take her hiking, to the coffee house, down the street, but David keeps telling me she must be backyard-bound until she is 100% trained. I disagree. I’m not going to take her out during rush hour pedestrian traffic, but she needs to be desensitized. The girl barks at people on the sidewalk when she’s inside the car and I’m driving. She needs to learn to shut up and accept the world around her. She can’t do that being in the backyard.

If Missy went to David’s for boarding school, I imagine she would get better stimuli. Since I don't have a kennel full of dogs and visitors throughout the day at my disposal, I'll have to make do. I need to be able to have people over and not fear that she’ll be unwelcoming and possibly dangerous. I need her to be able to walk on a leash around the block. I don’t know how far I’ll get before a job will call me away, so I need to do as much as possible as quickly as possible.

I want her to meet new people and show them what a sweet dog she is. I want them to know the kooky girl whose muzzle becomes a waterfall anytime food in her vicinity. 

I want them to know the uber warm fuzzy cuddler she is for me in the evenings while watching TV. 

And I want them to know the highly intelligent and independent canine she is.

Her ad is still not up on adopt-a-pet or petfinder.com. I worry about what will happen when I become gainfully employed. I’m hoping David will take her for a couple weeks of training if she can’t go into a foster home right away. Some dogs know that I’m just a transitional person. Some think I’m their forever home. I can’t get a sense from Missy what she’s thinking. She seems quite happy with her Bunny and her couch and bed and my bed (she’s been sleeping on my bed with me for a couple of weeks and appears to be fully housetrained now.) 

She loves lying in the grass or on the deck. 

She seems content to just be, with no labels or titles. Perhaps it’s best that way. Life is way less stressful when you stop thinking about it.

So while I learn from David how to handle a leash, I’ll try to pick up some Missy’s perspective on life. Not her perspective on the mailman or on squirrels, but at least on how to just be when it comes to the grand scheme.

Missy needs to relax, and well, so do I. David is the official paid trainer, and Missy the student, but I have a feeling I’m going to learn just as much as Missy will, not from David, but from Missy herself. Students always make the best teachers.