Thursday, January 1, 2009

Self-fulfilling prophecy? or the story of the botched recall

I have three dogs, and three very different training journeys with each of them.

Guinness was the stereotypical surrendered shelter adolescent "large breed dog". The paperwork said his family was "moving to Florida" and couldn't take him, but the reality of his surrender became apparent as I tried to walk my new dog from the shelter doors to the car and almost ended up on my ass. He was 80 pounds and 8 months of untrained mutt dog, completely unfamiliar with walking on a leash, leash reactive to other dogs, pushy, with zero dog social skills. He was also effortlessly good-hearted, the kind of dog who wants to be kind. I knew next to nothing about dogs and training, in fact embarrasingly I believed that dogs came already "knowing" how to walk on a leash. Our training journeys the first few years of his life consisted of remedial socialization, leash training, and basically me learning how to train. He got his CGC about 9 months after I adopted him, and became the puppy-caregiver at the dog daycare he attended. He continued with classes and training, saw me through my CPDT certification, and became my demo dog for classes, giving class after class of puppies much needed experience with big benevolent but firm papa dog lessons.

Zoe was the dog that I never would have picked. She was 4 years and three homes in when I met her, after she was taken by a co-worker from her neighbor as they weren't treating her well. She was an example of what shy genes coupled with less than stellar early socialization and then prolonged isolation and lack of exposure to the world can do to a dog. She would hide whenever anyone new, especially a man, came into the room. She started at sign posts and pylon cones, was nervous around all children, and spent a lot of our early months in a perpetual state of anxiety. My goals with her were to teach her how to be more comfortable in the world, how to cope with her fears, to socialize her to people and children so that she could cope with daily life better and wouldn't become a risky dog. She got her CGC certification about two years after I adopted her. She went from the scaredy cat dog to a gently social dog with humans, and loves all other dogs. She too came to puppy class when I taught and specialized in getting shy puppies to play. She's fast, agile, and joyful, and although she still startles at large crowds and loud noises sometimes, she's altogether a different dog than when she came to me.

Neither Guinn nor Zoe were picked as performance dogs, and while both did a bit of agility training, mostly for confidence building, that was never their job. Guinness should be certified as a therapy dog, as he's got all the necessary skills, but my education and his illness have ensured that this may not be a possibility.

Griff was the first dog I picked for a specific purpose. He was a rescue from ARPH, who I got when he was about 1 year old. He was to be my agility dog, maybe get trained in rally, perhaps dabble in flyball. He had his own set of baggage, including some bouts of same sex aggression, leash reactivity and general lack of impulse control, but he's also got quite a work ethic, and hopefully will make a decent agility dog. We've already learned a lot together, both about the sport and about working as a team, which is most important.

I feel like I've done a good job with my dogs, and am proud that I've learned so much training them and that I've helped them become good canine members of society, on the whole.

My constant source of frustration is that all three dogs, with their varied genetics, early experiences, and breed traits, all have one thing in common.

They have shitty recalls.

Now, I am thinking that Guinness may have had a history of escape before I got him. His training took forever, and it was a good number of years before I could trust him off leash anywhere. Zoe had years of time to perfect her habits before I got her, and was often seen running around her old apartment complex since going outside to go potty was the only exercise or outing she got on a regular basis before I took her. And Griff was a foundling, picked up as a stray in Saint Helen's, so who knows how long he practiced that behavior before I got him.

It's just difficult not to take it personally that all three routinely blow me off. I can blame some training mistakes (during Guinness's early times I didn't know what the hell I was doing). But really, I have to wonder what it is that makes my dogs really terrible in this area. Is it lack of leadership? Am I boring? Did I just manage to pick three disparate personalities that have this one trait in common for different reasons? I don't know.

I spent so long training Guinness, followed all the protocols I could find, and his was decent for awhile. In his old age, I'm less concerned, because he's too slow now to go far, I only select safe spots for him to be off leash, and he's much less motivated to be far from me than he used to be.

Zoe has gotten worse as she's gotten more brave, and I didn't drill her like I did Guinn.

Griff? The one Aussie in existence that doesn't stick close to his people. I don't know exactly how I botched him up. His recall in the ring is pretty excellent, which is important. I would just like one dog who was reliable in most locations.

I haven't used aversives to train since I tried the ill-fated citronella collar experiment with Guinness, and realized the timing was so off that the collar wasn't correcting the behavior til it was often too late. I don't know enough about the use of electronic collars to feel comfortable using them. I don't think that approach will be one I can stomach at this point unless I find a trainer who uses them without emotion and with compassion, which I've never seen in my experiences with trainers locally.

I just hope I can get a good recall in my next dog, without having to get rid of these three so that they don't teach bad habits.

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