Pearl and I set off yesterday morning to meet Nancy at her home in Hampstead, which is about 45 minutes from me on a good day. We left an hour ahead of our appointment since it was raining and and thus potentially not good. I strapped Pearl (in her travel halter) into the car and hoped I wouldn’t convey any of the anxiety I’d been feeling. The first time Pearl met with Nancy, Pearl lunged and barked like, I’m not exaggerating, a junkyard dog. I guess it was, in its way, the best introduction to the problem of Pearl’s reactive aggression. But I wasn’t looking forward to Snarly's reprising her role. Not only is such behavior startling, but it also makes my heart sink. So I get nervous about getting nervous and heartsick, part of the pattern of reciprocal anxiety that keeps Pearl and me in such crazed harmony.
When Nancy came out to meet us, wearing a rain hat, Pearl lunged and barked again, but not with the same abandon as last time. I settled her down, and within about 15 minutes, she seemed to like Nancy enough to wag and lick and to come to her when Nancy called. We had to work inside because of the weather. Clearly Pearl was doing better: she was less wary, more relaxed, and, as Nancy said at the end of our session, didn’t “stalk"her once. She did, however, try to bite her, but more on that later.
I had been working with the clicker, getting Pearl to touch a variety of objects that I held out and looked at. It took Pearl no time at all to master the skill, and Nancy was now building on it, getting Pearl to touch a long stick-like metal thing with a ball at the end of it. She also got her to put her head all the way into an oatmeal canister in one of several efforts we’re making to diminish Pearl’s fear of objects. Because Pearl is capable of lunging at people when they move, Nancy wanted to habituate Pearl to movement, so Nancy began to touch her own legs with the stick and ball object, walk briskly while clickiing and giving a treat every time Pearl touched the ball, getting Pearl to touch the ball on Nancy’s foot, shins, knees.
Then she wanted to see if Pearl would move between her legs so that she could further desensitize Pearl to human legs and movement. Nancy said, “She’s doing so well I’m going to push her as far as I can.” She lifted her leg to start the next move. . . and Pearl went after her. It was the exact move, in fact, that had gotten Nancy bitten the last time, though at that time she was merely attempting to tie her shoe. This time, Pearl’s bite was really soft, barely a bite at all. But there it was: at the end of about an hour and half of congenial petting, playing, and training, Pearl sparked.
“Talk me through this,” I said. “I know it’s unreasonable, but I have trouble not thinking that my dog just isn’t nice.” We talked about the book Culture Clash, which is terrific for destabilizing useless anthropomorphic notions about dogs. And Nancy reminded me that in the wild, Pearl’s behavior would keep her alive. “It’s what wolves do,” she said. Wolves react to anything new, anything they haven’t seen before,--like Nancy’s rain hat. We breed this out of domestic dogs, Nancy said, and Pearl’s behavior, her extreme reactivity, puts her on the very outer edge of domestic pet world, a world in which ordinary objects and a wide range of people are not supposed to be seen as threatening, but as normal.
I was thinking about the time that I took Pearl to the local pet store for a bath, and her response was roughly the equivalent to what a squirrel would do if you plucked one up from your yard and put it in a bath tub. And I was thinking that if I really want to get in touch with wildness—as I always imagine I do—then I had a pretty good example right in the house with me. But I was also thinking that Pearl is making real progress because of Nancy, whose skills are such that she could probably take on bathing squirrels if the spirit moved her.
When I left Nancy’s training room, I found that in my over-wrought arrival, I’d left some light or other on in my car and now had a dead battery. So out in the rain we stood waiting for the guy from the nearby garage to jump start my car. Not only was he a stranger, but he was wearing a hat, so didn’t have a chance: Pearl lunged and barked with such ferocity that he said “Oh my.” Then he stood way back. The car started right up with the help of the handy device he brought along, and Pearl I headed home, both of us exhausted for different reasons.
12 years of waiting
11 years ago
Coincidently, Cesar Millan had this main article in this week's newsletter:
ReplyDeleteCesar writes:
"Patience is the Key to Rehabilitation
I've found that one of the most important traits you can have as a canine professional is patience. Often, you have to work with the dog over and over until he gets it. Sure, sometimes a behavior change can be quick, but even then, it requires follow-through. You can't revert back to your old behavior, or the dog will, too!
It's important to remember that rehabilitation is a process – not a quick fix. You need to send a clear and consistent message 24/7 and 365 days a year. The behavior change won't necessarily happen overnight. You have to celebrate the progress along the way and know that success is in the dog's future!
In our multi-tasking, instant access world, many of us have little patience. If this is true of you, look at it like this: your dog is giving you an opportunity to work on your development as a human being! Take the skills you are learning with him and apply it to other areas in your life. Be patient with your friends, family members, co-workers, and even complete strangers. You may find yourself a happier person for it.
Stay calm and assertive,
Cesar Millan"
I find it nearly impossible to consistently maintain control over my emotional state of being in all aspects of my life. How can a person continually and fully have such control? It is almost a religious zealousness that one most attain in order to achieve that control. In order that one can be consistently in control over one's physical, metaphysical and emotional self, a dedication, a desire and a full commitment must be practiced and then achieved. What is needed, as behaviorism dictates, is such a deeply seated phenomenon I can only believe that there are only a very few humans who are capable of achieving such a state.
I, however was able to attain a physical and emotional control over myself through many years of practice in my professional and public life. I was capable of remaining consistently patient and seemingly calm and assertive through many strenuous situations. Even the largest "junk yard dog" aiming at my throat would not budge me into a reactionary person. Calm assertive behavior on my part could control and change erratic behavior in individuals who were acting out of anger, frustration, or ignorance. I understood the seat of the behaviors and could deal with them with success.
Maintaining such calmness is achievable in a emotional and physical sense; however, dogs are capable of perceiving the inner most emotions of humans that most humans can never perceive. Dogs can read physic energy that is projected invisibly and can never be fully read by words or body language. Dogs have developed this empathetic ability for the sake of survival in a human world.
Being able to control that energy in myself would take an enormous amount of strength and fortitude which I find to be entirely impossible to attain and maintain on any sort of a consistent basis in all aspects of my private life.
Your intentions of gaining this consistency is awe inspiring. I do not and probably cannot acquire such total consistency in all situations. I highly commend you and your desire to achieve this state of being.
Pearl is extremely intelligent and is entirely perceptive to your actions and emotions and definitely towards your psyche. Pearl will willingly protect you from any perceived sense of a threat to your personal safety.
I highly commend your willingness to gain this state of being and truly hope that it is achieved. Once you succeed, please share more insight on how it can be done.