I know I can be more than a pez dispenser. Maybe, at the least, I am a really sophisticated vending machine. At best, I think Ela and I can achieve a training partnership that exists beyond food. I do think Ela enjoys the problem solving aspect of training with me – if she could choose between the various training games we play, she’d pick free-shaping. (Qualifier: While at the top of her personal list of activities, chasing and killing squirrels is not a game that we play together. I sit that one out, and strongly encourage that she choose to do something more productive with her time.) While she still receives a treat when she earns a click, I think it is more than just about the food. When Ela realizes that it is time for her to get creative and figure out the solution, her body posture relaxes, she gently wags, and she seems to have endless focus. (This is in contrast to her response to 'basic' obedience cues.) Her response to this is incredibly reinforcing to me, and so we play this game a lot.
I realized after some time that I had stopped trying to just play with Ela. She was the most serious puppy I have ever met, and she has grown to be possibly the most serious dog I have ever met. It’s not that she isn’t happy – this dog wants for nothing, her brain is engaged every day, and she gets outside and physically exercised. She barks, she wags, she wrestles with her playmates. She has bed privileges and is a great cuddler. But when we are together she is just – so – serious. I had stopped playing with her without even noticing, because it just wasn’t reinforcing for me. I’d attempt to engage her, and I got a pretty quiet response each time.
This became especially troublesome when I was trying to fade out the food treats and use play more often as a reward. I spent god-knows-how-much money on different tug toys, to see if she would be motivated by a certain texture, shape, or size. Cotton rope, nylon rope, Vibram rubber tug, smooth canvas tug, rough canvas tug, stick, frisbee, stinky sock… Super cute stuffing-free skunk with a squeaky? Faux fur? How dare I? Short of using an actual carcass as reinforcement (which I am opposed to, because I’d probably cry), I was losing hope that I’d be able to play with Ela as reinforcement. And in case you are worried I only tried tug, fear not. Ela also doesn’t retrieve for fun. Not a disc, stick, ball, Nylabone, stinky sock… She wouldn’t chase me, didn’t particularly like being chased herself, wasn’t that into jumping up on me, and didn’t wrestle with humans. I didn’t think lugging a digging box to location would be a very feasible solution for real-life reinforcement. And allowing to her sleep on a pile of laundry next to the radiator would also hamper training sessions, if only from a time perspective.
How had I ruined my dog? Had I not spent enough time with her alone as a puppy? Had she been somehow oppressed by the other dogs, and I hadn’t noticed? Had I somehow punished her in the past for playing with me? I can’t delve into her brain, so I’ll never know for sure, and I’ll drive myself crazy if I try to find the reason why. But any behaviorist will tell you, it doesn’t matter why. Just work with the behavior that you have.
Aha! Instead of derailing into an (overly dramatic) emotional meltdown and wondering how I have just screwed up the next 14 years of Ela’s life, not to mention my own, I could instead focus on something easy. Play is a behavior. I know how to shape behaviors. Any dog’s behavior is on a continuum – they are constantly learning and adjusting. I can plot Ela’s play behavior on a continuum.
The Continuum
Fig. 1. Ranking of items with which Ela enjoys playing. Rankings are a composite score of objective count of numbers of play behaviors displayed when interacting with the item, as well as subjective interpretation from the emotional human caretaker.
There are, of course, many methods to teach and reinforce a dog to retrieve, or tug, or play chase. We do incorporate some of these, but the progress is slow. Sometimes, slow progress is your ticket. It builds a strong-as-rocks foundation, boosts confidence, and allows for technical integrity. Sometimes, it is appropriate to look for a faster route.
Right now, reinforcing these games with food will result with Ela taking out her serious-hat. Maybe, after some time, she’ll loosen up. But, is there a faster way? Can I somehow cajole that goofy side of her into appearing – the side that she only really shows to her dog friends?
Fig 2. Ela, in Madison. “Sidewalk chalk” is not on the continuum (Fig. 1), but may rank lower than “Katie”. We must remember our small successes.
So, we’re trying something new. Ela is excited – jumping up and down, zoomy, mouthy – in exactly one situation: when I get home. So, out is our careful cultivation of three quiet, sitting dogs upon my arrival. Instead, I now open the door, so she can sneak out, and I leave the other dogs in the house. I let Ela whine, bark, jump on me, mouth me, whatever she wants. I figure that I can train what I don’t like right back out of her, later. For now, I’m going to show her that I’m not a super up-tight goody-two shoes, and that the two of us are going to be bad. Together.
Last night was our second night trying this. We played tug with a wooden stake that she found. Obviously, this is a very safe thing to do… But you know what? She growled! And then she let me chase her! And then we repeated the game! Then we went inside, while we were both still breathing harder, and excited about playing – before the play lost enthusiasm.
I have often longed to transform into a dog so I could play with them as they do each other. Until then, Ela and I will try to figure out how we play together. And I’m feeling optimistic!
