Photo by McDobbie Hu on Unsplash
I'm an experienced dog owner, so when I adopted a seven-year-old Golden Retriever almost a year ago, I thought I knew what I was in for. Overall, this 80-pound, orange ball of love has done very well - going for walks, being a gentleman to friends’ cats, and a "good boy" to the canines at doggy daycare. But best of all, he turned out to be a top-notch snuggler. Jackpot.
The honeymoon, however, only lasted a couple of months. After several embarrassing encounters when attempting a polite, “hello" with other dogs on our walks, these trips have become a minefield. At the sight of another dog, my furry buddy acts like a hungry zombie and it's really embarrassing. Our outings soon became stressful and unpredictable. Nowadays, I'm a hypervigilant owner on constant lookout to prevent any such meetings. Is there a pooch around the corner? Is that dog going away or approaching us? Forget about your typical pleasantries, "Is your dog friendly? Can my dog say ‘hi’ to your dog?" Instead, I’m zig-zagging the sidewalks to dodge all oncoming canines.
Being a behaviorist, albeit a human one, I first tried to fix the situation myself. I wondered what dogs triggered my pooch: Little ones? Big ones? Bearded ones? Dogs without tails? Unfortunately, the answer appeared to be, “all of them”. After consulting the internet, it became apparent he has a nasty case of "leash aggression," and it's not going to get better on its own. Time to call a dog trainer.
Going through training with my Golden has been an interesting experience. As someone who provides counseling for behavior challenging kids and the people who love them, I've started to see some similarities in the process. To be clear, I'm not saying that training pooches is at all the same as disciplining kids or working with people. However both processes do involve setting and learning boundaries and rules. In both cases, many people run through an array of rewards and consequences in attempting to change behavior. And who has not fantasized about doing “clicker training” on their micromanaging boss? But I've digressed. Fundamentally, what I have found most similar is that behavior change takes time. Sometimes lots of time. And there will be incremental progress and sometimes backsliding along the way.
Many parents of behavior challenging kids want to know how soon they will see results and of course, are hoping to see them sooner than later. I usually talk about managing expectations and try to help them understand what is realistic. Similarly, I want "leash aggression" to go away quickly. After several weeks, I realize this wish may not materialize. It seems there’s more to leash aggression and dog training than meets the eye.
When families seek my help, they often share their belief that the problem is all about their offspring misbehaving. That is what they want me to help them to fix. From this perspective, the child's behavior is viewed as separate from history, from neurodevelopmental capability, and from the current relationships within the family, school, and community. Of course, all these factors likely play a part in the child’s behavior and that is why I must address each one to really arrive at a solution that will make a difference for the family.
Similarly, I thought, "Let's fix the leash aggression", and was surprised when the trainer wanted to address other things. We began with the dog's name response and the commands "sit," "touch," "wait," and "leave it." I wondered, “What are we doing here? What does all this have to do with lunging at dogs on the street?” It started to feel like it was all a bit of a sham, even though I love our trainer. Deep down, I want him to change my dog, to show me some short cut, something quick and easy. But the trainer explained my dog had many years of not following the rules, not walking on a leash, not socializing with other dogs. Teaching an old dog new tricks is possible but it will take a longer time. I find myself sharing similar things with the families I treat. The negative interaction patterns are often entrenched in families. First, the family needs to recognize them and then undo the patterns before behavior starts to change. It doesn't happen right away.
Some of the training feels strange to me. Even contradictory to who I am. For example, from now on, my dog will have to ask my permission for anything to everything. This is called boundaries training. Personally, I don't want to feel like a control freak. I don’t feel the need to have my dog ask for permission every time he wants to jump on the couch or cross a threshold. But I trust my trainer and am willing to give his methods a try. Still, whether dog training or making changes in one’s family, it's hard to build new habits; it's hard to find the time to follow-up with training at home, and it's so easy to get bogged down with the urgencies of daily life and procrastinate.
Somehow, I manage to eke out the time to complete weeks of training. Still, a walk around Green Lake is a moving target. My trainer gave me solid advice on how to handle leash aggression on walks and it looked so easy in the small enclosed training pen. But out on the sidewalk, with so many distractions, the goals of training can seem almost unachievable. The advice I give to my clients, "Be proactive, be clear, be patient," holds true for me. I never leave the house without special treats. I rehearse the steps in my head: treat in my hand (not in the pocket), call the dog's name first just when we see another dog, give the treat, and say “leave it”. If this doesn't work, fold the leash in half and body block him.
Does it work? Yes and no. There is still a lot of work to be done. The progress is incremental and at times it's discouraging how slow and hard it all is. In the meantime, I stay positive and focus on a day at a time, soaking up all the snuggles I can get.
