We recently welcomed a sport mix puppy into the pack. I use “we” lightly as had it been a democratic vote there would be no new puppy. As it turns out, there is a reason the democratic process is best. Be that as it may, Sisu is here and a couple of the dogs almost even like him now at the 8-month mark. Sport puppies are generally a stew of herding, terrier and sighthound genetics. Dog sports enthusiasts choose them for their moderate size, athleticism and willingness to train and play for relatively long, focused periods of time. They can apply themselves to the task at hand while remaining peripherally aware of the environment. A dog trainer’s dream, really.
An ingested sock
Really? Some of us forget about puppyhood. Those admirable working characteristics that we so prize make for curious, busy, indefatigably annoying puppies. My particular model – let’s blame this on the terrier – is extremely environmentally focused. All dogs are hard-wired to notice new things in their environs. Novel items can be either a danger or for the perpetually curious, an opportunity. For a puppy, everything is novel. Enter Sisu the super-charged environmentally focused puppy.
Novel items that Sisu deems opportunities are immediately grabbed and eaten. This puppy has literally tried to eat a shadow off the ground. Painted lines on asphalt aren’t safe either. Everything else is a potential danger. The combination of strong environmental focus and general wariness injected with a healthy dose of intensity is a recipe for undesirable reactive behavior.
Reactive behaviors are a significant societal problem. We have all seen, encountered or lived with the dog who is barking and lunging at bikes, cars, other dogs, joggers, strollers or the casual passerby. These behaviors generally originate in fear or frustration, and are often perceived as aggressive. They can make dog guardianship a misery and many of these dogs end up being surrendered to animal shelters. Animal shelters across the country currently face a surplus of larger adolescent dogs with problematic reactive behaviors. Modifying these behaviors require early intervention, environmental management and a long period of hard work. Tragically, there aren’t enough homes.
At eight months, Sisu and I are just starting to work on basic behaviors such as a proper sit and down. Those aren’t what Sisu originally needed. His first behavior was to recognize he would be paid for behaviors. Happily, terrier genetics often come with a strong food drive. He grasped how to relax in a crate or on a tie down. Sisu learned his name, to reorient to me (engagement), come when called (recall), to forgo things he would otherwise ingest (leave it) and to release whatever was in his mouth (out), in that order. These are foundation skills for addressing Sisu’s innate response to his environment and preventing unwanted reactive or destructive behaviors. This followed by five months of careful exposure to the zillions of weird things in the world a modern dog is expected to manage. Garbage trucks, kids shooting hoops, joggers, people in hats, umbrellas, using binoculars, laughing, jumping, other dogs passing, staring, lunging, barking, electric bikes, scooters, skateboards, wildlife and domestic animals, and the list goes on. Then, doing it all over again in the dusk and the dark. Exhausting.
Sisu has a gigantic case of “I don’t know what to do with myself.” He is also bright, earnest, able and willing. It is my job to guide his journey and help him develop enough confidence and resiliency to navigate the world I expect him to inhabit. The bar is high. He comes to work in an office with a lot of windows and passing dog and human traffic. He needs to interact with human and canine strangers on a daily basis. We live and walk in an active densely populated suburban downtown area with wildlife neighbors. He has to learn his place in our canine pack. I expect him to be neutral with passing dogs displaying varying degrees of provocative behaviors and social with his canine teammates. Hard stuff.
Today we had a rough walk. There are five of us. Myself, Sisu and three older, well-trained dogs. The additional dogs are both problematic and a boon. Logistics are challenging, but they provide guidance and stability. We walk early (6 am) to minimize the number and level of environmental training hazards. Any walk with a puppy is a training walk, and all training needs to be in a managed or thoughtfully considered environment.
One and a half miles into our walk, having an unplanned imbroglio with a recently and radically modified fire hydrant, but no issues with the passing joggers in headlamps and reflective clothing or the requisite e-bikes, we had the bad luck to encounter three separate groups of people walking dogs who barked and/or lunged at us – right in our way! – on the bike path. Tight quarters and the rapid succession proved dicey but we all knew the drill and managed without reaction assisted by the liberal application of treats.
A few hundred feet later we encountered a workman in a hardhat sitting on a curb which has never before contained such an apparition. Sisu barked and growled. Under normal conditions he likely would have been mildly curious, but coming off of the routine joggers/bikers plus the three debilitating episodes of other dogs shouting, he was above his coping threshold (trigger-stacked). A training opportunity. We worked on some behavior modification, Sisu relaxed, I took it as a “win” until some bikers and joggers went by twenty feet away and all ground was lost. Alas, one can never completely manage the environment. Calling it a training draw, we moved on. Almost immediately we passed a recruitment poster and Sisu growled at the face in the poster!
We continued on without further incident as I wondered how long would it take for Sisu to regain his equilibrium. Behavior modification aims to create more resiliency but it can be difficult to assess. Almost home at the four-and-a-half-mile mark, I decide to take an additional, less traveled loop. Around the first blind corner, we encountered an adolescent leashed Shibu Inu who, upon seeing us approach, moved into the center of the narrow road, angled his body towards us and lay in sphinx position staring and stalking.
Okay, this was a problem. My normally stalwart older dogs took notice, and lacking sufficient space to casually move forward everything came to a screeching halt. Knowing the guy was probably on this out of the way road specifically to avoid situations like this, I apologized and said I needed a minute. Trying to reassure me, he said – and this is a classic – “my dog just wants to play” and took one step forward whereupon his dog launched itself at us growling. Dumbfounded, I wondered how I could have handled that better for him. Sisu and crew managed admirably, but now I was rattled!
This walk wasn’t through with us yet, oh no. We next encountered a nanny pushing a plastic car containing a toddler. A friendly hello from the nanny deflected interest, but the baby’s excited gurgle did attract attention. All was good until she started pushing the car back and forth creating a growling noise as the plastic wheels met road. Discretion being the better part of valor, we moved on to celebrate a successful encounter with a few more cookies when I realized the growling noise was getting closer. Ironically, the following nanny was using the walking dogs as environmental baby enrichment!
Almost home and I remember this route would take us through the alley with barking dogs behind the fence. No matter, we navigate this hazard on a routine basis. At this point Velo, the eldest dog, decides that he has had enough and by golly planned to tell the next distraction how his day was going. It was only by the greatest of good luck that a diversionary critter scent in the sewer grate claimed everyone’s attention and we arrived home without fanfare. Sisu rocketed into the house, grabbed the first toy he could find and raced back to ask me if I wanted to play with him! No, no thank you Sisu, I need a minute.
By Dawn Kovell
