About MichaelBaugh.com

Posted on April 18, 2011 by admin

Welcome to MichaelBaugh.com, my personal blog and repository for dog writing I’ve done here and there.  I guess now it’s all … here.

The blog is set up pretty simply.  To the right you will find categories for articles and essays I’ve written organized by source and subject.  Pieces with video are also listed under “video.” Articles and essays written exclusively for this site are categorized as “site original.”  Material by guest writers is stored under the author’s name and subject where applicable.

The latest postings are always directly below this one and listed to the right under “recent posts.”

Above there’s a little something about me and information about Michael’s Dogs Training and Behavior in Houston, TX.

Please link to this site freely and often.  :)

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Just Plain Ordinary Dogs

Posted on March 5, 2012 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KSA, CDBC

It always comes down to this for me.  Would I live with that dog?  You see, I don’t endorse dogs for adoption lightly; that’s bad business for dog trainers.  If I’m going to put my name behind a dog, he or she has to be a dog I’d honestly and freely welcome into my own home.  I’m also not the kind of dog trainer who adopts rehab cases.  I want to live with a just-plain typical dog, magical yes, but in the way ordinary dogs find magic by settling deep into your heart.

My dogs are those kind of dogs.  They are mutts, as we used to call such gifts, mixed breeds of questionable origin.  But, this isn’t really about them.  It’s not about my adopting a dog either; our house and our hearts are full.  This is about other ordinary dogs, magical dogs with no home, mutts whose origins and looks draw their worth into question.  They are dogs who’ve touched my heart and even now risk breaking it.

Tara

When I posted pictures of Tara and Oreo on my facebook page, my brother posted only one question about them.  “Are they pit bull mixes?”  The question made me angry, and at first I wasn’t exactly sure why.  My answer to him was staid.  Breed identification based on visual observation is only about 30% accurate.  He didn’t reply.

I met Tara and Oreo more than two months ago.  They were scrappy adolescent dogs pulled from the streets of the Corridor of Cruelty in Houston and placed directly into a boarding facility.  Oreo was literally a mangy mutt, black and white, slightly squared at the jaw.  Tara was and is brown and muscular with a blocky head and slanted amber eyes.  My job was to assess them and a third dog, a shepherd mix named Skipper, for a program called Project HEEL.  The program places homeless dogs from Corridor Rescue Inc. with teenage boys in the custody of The Harris County Juvenile Probation Department.  When I first met them, the three dogs ran amok and were definitely untrained.  Nevertheless, they got along well and within a week they were sent off to a juvenile probation home in the rural reaches of a Houston Suburb.

Oreo

It’s hard to ignore the parallels – tough-looking dogs with tough-looking teenage boys, all behind the double locked doors and barbed wire of the county.  For the dogs and the boys both, the trouble is more about how they look, than what they’ve done or ever will do.  The boys at least know what they’re up against when they get out.  The dogs have no idea.  Block headed, bully bodied, banned in some places.  They are totally, if not blissfully, unaware of how hard it will be for them to find a place in this world, a home, a family.

Someone claimed Skipper, the shepherd mix, weeks before Project HEEL ended.  Skipper’s leash will be handed to his new guardians at a graduation ceremony.  No one will take Tara’s leash, or Oreo’s leash, the ones my brother summarily asked about.  They will return to their crates, and if time runs out they will go back to the boarding facility to wait.  I don’t know for how long.  I also don’t know if they are pit mixes.  It doesn’t matter.  They look the part and that’s enough of a mark against them.  And here’s the irony , bitter as it may be.

I’d live with either of these dogs, Tara, Oreo.  I would if it weren’t for the dogs who’ve already claimed me.  Tara, tough as she may look, with her muscled body and serious eyes, would have a place beside me – curled and pressed against my chest please.  Oreo would learn tricks and accompany me on TV, the eager learner, the clown.  I’ve looked at each of them squarely and asked myself soberly, would I live with that dog.  The answer is yes.  I’d put my name behind either of theirs, and let them settle into my heart to find the magic life of an ordinary dog.

I don’t endorse dogs lightly, but these are dogs with whom I’d live.  Wouldn’t you?  Won’t you?  Please.

Posted in Human-Canine Bond, Site Original | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Food is not a Four Letter Word

Posted on March 5, 2012 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KSA, CDBC

Originally published in the January-February 2012 issue of Houston PetTalk Magazine

The question isn’t whether or not you can train your dog with food.  That’s pretty much a no-brainer.  Author and long-time animal trainer Dr. Grey Stafford put it best.  “If you’ve ever fed your dog, you’ve trained with food.”  Dogs have learned to do all sorts of things for their food bowl, including beg, spin in circles and jump on people.  What seems strange is that so many people would sooner give their dog a bowl of food for all that annoying behavior, than use small bits of food to teach desired behavior.  There seems to be a disconnect.  Feeding is good.  Food in training is bad.  Even some self-professed trainers advertise that they don’t use food in training.  Why?  Dr. Stafford inspired the title of this article when he made the claim that should be common sense to all of us.  Food is not a four-letter word.

Here’s how positive reinforcement training works.   If your dog spins in circles and barks, and the result is that you give him a heaping bowl of food, then he’s going to do more spinning and barking in the future.  It’s that simple.  Our dogs will keep doing the stuff we pay for.  In fact, it’s science (See “The Science of Dog Training”, Houston PetTalk Magazine, March 2011).  Dr. Susan Friedman is a professor of psychology at Utah State University and an animal behavior consultant.   She cuts right to the meat of the matter.  “If behavior has no effect, what are we behaving for?”  So why not use the effect to our advantage?   Dog sits – food – more sitting.  Dog comes when called – food – more coming when called.  The list goes on.

Do you always have to have food with you?  No.  But (there’s always a “but”), it doesn’t hurt.  As your dog learns good manners, he may only get food every once in a while.  Rover Oaks Trainer Aki Yamaguchi CPDT-KA calls that “phasing out the food.”  Use food to show your dog how to do new things (trainers call it luring), but don’t get stuck in a long-term pattern of bribing.  Yamaguchi says, “You should put the food out of sight as soon as possible.”  Keep it handy but hidden.  Dr. Stafford speaks from experience, “I’ve trained hundreds of animals covering more species than I can recall.  The one lesson I’ve learned is the ultimate power of positive reinforcement, whether you train dogs or dolphins, is in its unpredictability.”  That means your dog will get paid for doing things you like, but not always how and when he expects it.  Any dog knows to come running when you’re wearing a treat bag, but try sneaking a few treats in your pocket, and then call your dog while you’re brushing your teeth or watering the lawn.  He’ll be mighty surprised when you hand him that food for a job well done.  Now, that’s unpredictability.

Is food the only way you can reinforce your dog?  No.  But, some of the most potent reinforcers speak directly to the animal’s biological needs.  We call those primary reinforcers, and they include food, shelter, reproduction, and opportunity (the ability to make choices).  In dog training food just happens to be the easiest primary reinforcer to deliver.  Aki Yamaguchi says, “Food is often my first choice when teaching simple behaviors because you can get a lot more repetitions.” Modern trainers like Aki pair the food with praise, petting, and sometimes a clicker.  Those are called secondary reinforcers.  In time, praise, petting, and clicks will take on some of the built-in value of the food.  That’s a good thing.  You’ll want lots of possible reinforcers in your training tool kit.

What will your dog work for?  Some dogs love food.  But, other dogs will work for the chance to fetch a ball, play tug, or cuddle on the sofa.  Still other dogs learn to love petting and praise. Dr. Friedman notes, “It’s a teacher’s job to notice that individuality and use it well. The more reinforcers a learner has the more enriched its life can be.”  Aki Yamaguchi agrees. “Your job is to find what motivates your dog and use it to get the behaviors you want from him.” Pay your dog for doing great things in lots of different ways, and see how that adds to the unpredictability you’re looking for.  Your dog will work harder and learn faster because he’s always wondering, what am I going to get this time?

Is training all about the food?  No, and there’s no “but” about it.  Using food, pairing it with praise and fun, teaching your dog what pays and what doesn’t – that’s all about your discovering how to better communicate with your dog.  It’s about learning new things, looking for the next task, and loving every minute of it together.

Posted in Houston Pet Talk Magazine, How Dogs Learn | Tagged , , , | Comments Off

Where the Magic Happens

Posted on January 29, 2012 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KSA, CDBC

The place is about 25 minutes north of where anyone ever really goes.  It’s out past where the road narrows to one lane in each direction.  It’s where the houses are more spread out, too far out to be the suburbs, not quite far enough to be out-in-the-country.  It’s an easy drive, and easy to find too.  Just head north and hang a hard left outside my comfort zone.

When I was 5 or 6 years old I asked my dad when I’d have to go to jail.  My older sister was dating a drug dealer at the time and he’d been sent off.  I figured that everyone went to jail sometime because that’s what happened to Ricky, “the pusher” my parents called him.  My dad assured me I didn’t have to go to jail, and that no one in our family had ever been there either.  Ricky was different, not like us.  Maybe so, I don’t’ know.  I never did go to jail as it turns out.  I didn’t even have to go to a public school.

I could lie and say the place looks like a high school.  Sure enough there were teenage boys playing basket ball out back, lanky and laughing.  But the court was in a big yard surrounded by a big fence with wire on top.  This was jail, jail for kids.  It has a nicer name than just that, and the good people who work here are focused on helping the kids make things right.  Still, the boys can’t just leave at the end of the day.  They’re locked in.  There’s some hard truth to that fact and it’s not easy to forget.

The doors buzz open, and lock, and echo hollow despair just like real jail doors.  I sign in and they run a magnetic wand over me just to be sure I’m not brining in anything metal, anything that could be a weapon.  I’m not.  It’s just a car key, and my driver’s license.  They walk me down a wide hall, government sparse and clean, to a room near the end on the left side, another left just a bit further than I’d ever gone before.

This is my dog training class for the next 8 weeks.  There are 6 boys whose names I’m not allowed to share.   They are 17 and younger, brown skinned every one, polite, engaging, relaxed.  We’re in a large space that could be the common room in any university dorm building.  On the left wall are three large dog crates.  I met the dogs a week before I met the boys and I can share their names: Oreo, Skipper, and Tara.  They are all under a year, black or brown coated, friendly, and fast asleep.

The dogs, every one, came from a part of town called The Corridor of Cruelty.  It’s the kind of place you don’t ever go to if you grew up in North Dallas and were afraid even of public school.  It’s like where my mom confronted the pusher’s parents, where the police came to get Ricky, to take him to jail.  Police come to these places a lot.  And guys who fight dogs on the weekends for fun, even if not for money, dump their old stock here, rejects and bait dogs.  The dogs wander and starve.   They have their puppies and whither in the heat or shiver in the cold.  The place has bones bleached white, carcasses of dogs gone dead before anyone cared or could even think of caring.  This is where my three students came from, the dogs.  I don’t know where the boys came from.  I couldn’t say even if I did know.

Women save the dogs.  That’s the way it is mostly.  It started with just one who gathered the others and formed a  group to help the dogs in the Corridor.  They named themselves after the place long after they started feeding dogs, luring them into cars and putting them in foster homes.  The dogs are just dogs mostly, mixes of this and that, genetics unknown.  Some look like pit bulls, but very few are fighters.  That’s probably why they ended up here.  Fighting dogs don’t get dumped.

There are two boys for every dog in the dorm on the left side of the long hall.  Adolescent dogs with adolescent boys, I don’t know if it’s love but they’re attached to each other already.  How does that happen so fast?

From Left: Skipper, Tara, and Oreo

Team Oreo are two black 16 year old kids.  One of them plays basketball.  When I was explaining how we make learning easy for the dogs and increase difficulty gradually, he told me he could play four quarters of a game straight through now but when he was first starting he could only play one or two.  That’s exactly the way it is, I said.  His training partner doesn’t talk much, if at all.  Oreo is a black and white pit mix, 7 or 8 months old.  He play bites.  Attention slips away from him quickly, but he’s sharp and fast.  He’s the first to nail a left finish with his own added style.  He comes when called but struggles with stay. He’s perfectly matched to his boys in those regards.

Team Tara is lead by a fiercely intelligent 17 year old African American boy with freckles and reddish hair.  He likes math, loves numbers he says.  He makes eye contact and shakes hands and asks more questions than the others.  Why are you here?  I want to ask, but I decided going into this that I wouldn’t ask, not any of them.  Like in team Oreo, the other boy is younger and quieter.  Tara herself is the only female, brown and blocky.  She’s the one who looks most like a pit bull, but not all the way.  She and Oreo have bonded and play with abandon.  Still, when she is working she’s intense and serious.  Just like her boys.

Team Skipper are two Latin boys who appear to be good friends, more so than the other teams.  They share responsibilities equally and sometimes laugh and joke.  But other times the shorter one wanders off without ever taking a step, staring down at the grass, leaving us while he stands there, traveling far beyond the fence and down the road and into the city.  Then, just as suddenly as that, he returns.  Skipper is the youngest dog.  He still has some of his juvenile teeth.  When it’s time to line up and take the dogs outside, he’s brought out of his crate last because he can’ t hold his bladder.  Skipper is a quiet cooperative dog.  He’s the only one to walk on a regular leash and collar (the others use Gentle Leader Head Collars).

In so many ways this class is like all the others.  The boys are learning the mechanical and timing skills of dog training.  They’re learning not to repeat cues, and how to be patient with their impulsive young dogs.  But, this class is different too.  The stakes are high, higher for these boys than it is even for the dogs in their care.  They are focused and responsive and engaged at a level much greater than any of my other clients.  Raising and training these dogs matters to them.   I won’t presume to know why.  It may be that everything matters here, every skill, every lesson, every bond.  If something goes wrong again they won’t come back here.  It won’t be jail for kids.  It will just be jail.  The stakes are high.

I saw a picture on facebook today.  It showed a big hand draw circle with the label “where the magic happens.”  Then there was a smaller separate circle off to the right:  “Your comfort zone.”  I wonder.  Am I where the magic happens?  More dogs die in the Corridor of cruelty every year than come out. Oreo, Tara and Skipper are the exceptions.  And what about these boys?  What about all these boys, in the other dorms, or on the outside in the city trapped in their own private prisons?  What about the ones who go quiet, who stare down at the grass and wander away in their minds to who-knows-where, escaping who-knows-what?

I always push on the door just before the buzzer unlocks it.   I’ve always been awkward like that, a bit too anxious to leave, a bit nervous about being locked in.  When do I go to jail, Dad?  When do I get out?  I settle into my car, tired from teaching and dirty from jumping dogs.  I stare up at the deep blue winter sky and then at the high school that’s really not.  This has to be where the magic happens.  I believe in magic, and it has to be here.

Posted in Human-Canine Bond, Site Original | 4 Comments

Adopt. (Haiku)

Posted on January 8, 2012 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KSA, CDBC

Mali Chi's Alex

 

Rescue Dog Proclaims:

I am not guilty as charged.

Can we go play now?

 

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in defense of the poet (Haiku)

Posted on January 7, 2012 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KSA, CDBC

-

 

For the love of dogs,

are my words too saccharine?

We’re on the same side.

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A Tad Improved

Posted on January 6, 2012 by admin

Micahel Baugh CPDT-KSA, CDBC

Change is sometimes subtle, even imperceptible.  There was a time when Tad was labeled “aggressive,” barking, and lunging at people he didn’t know.  Tad had bitten, for humans the worst offense a dog can commit.  Hope ran thin for Tad.  The idea that he’d ever be a “typical dog” seemed a far way off.  Change, it seemed, would have to be dramatic.

Tiffany had found Tad in an awful state.  He’d been dumped on the side of a country road to wither and die.  Tad had done the former and was well on his way to the latter when Tiffany scooped him up and took him home.   He gained weight and healed well.  Then the trouble started.

Tiffany called Tad’s behavior “going ape shit.”  She works at a vet clinic and Tad had been going with her every day.  Whenever Tad saw a new person (mostly clients) he would “go ape shit.”  I wondered exactly what Tiffany meant, so I asked.  She sent me video.  There was Tad, behind a baby gate barking and jumping and lunging toward someone just off camera.  I’m not one for labels; just tell me what the dog is doing.  Still, Tiffany’s label was apt.  She told me that Tad had bitten her father, and that she was worried Tad would bite again (he did).  So, we set an appointment and a week later I drove nearly an hour to meet Tad.

Tad

I never saw Tad behave poorly other than in that video.  If I do my job right with so-called aggression cases, I never see the behavior.  That was how it went with Tad.  We met at a friend’s training facility, then a few weeks later at the clinic, then a few more times after that.  Tad and I became fast friends, and that’s certainly the way I like it.  I like Tad.  In another life he’s the dog I’d live with.  That’s saying something.  I don’t fall for all my clients the way I fell for Tad.

All the while, Tiffany and I stayed in close contact.  It wasn’t always easy.  I worried.  I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about Tad.  I texted and emailed Tiffany to make sure she was on track.

She and I butted heads once (my fault).  I got frustrated and forgot my golden rule: the client is not my enemy.  Tad had bitten a delivery man and I feared we’d lost our way altogether.  On paper this was an easy case.  When it started to play out, it wasn’t easy at all.  That’s how it goes sometimes.  It’s the way it went with Tad.

Assess the risk to the dog and to other dogs and humans.  Lay out a good training plan.  Communicate the plan well.  Restate the plan often.  Provide a safe and caring relationship for the client.  Remember behavior is driven by the environment.  Change the environment even a little and the behavior will change in turn.  Those are the rules, except there’s one more.  Believe.  Follow the rules and believe.  The rest will follow.  That’s the way it went with Tad.

No one ever calls and says my dog is better.  It doesn’t happen very often, anyway.  Change is rarely dramatic.  What happens instead is that as the dog improves his guardian relaxes and stops calling.  That’s a tricky time for me as a teacher and a coach.  How is Tad?  Why isn’t she calling?  Some clients get lax and fall back into a bad pattern of behavior with their dog.  (Yes, that happened in this case).  But, once real change starts to settle in the pattern of training and monitoring the dog’s behavior just becomes part of everyday life.  Things get better and no one really pays any notice.  Typical is boring, right?  That’s what happened with Tad.

He goes to work with Tiffany still, but not with his housemate dogs.  That one little change helped a great deal.  Tad greets people well and shows just about everyone the real self he showed me.  Tiffany remains vigilant, knowing that teaching her dog is a life-long proposition.  Change came subtly.  It was almost imperceptible, but change came.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen Tad.  Tiffany and I have been talking for several weeks with nothing much to report.  Tad is doing fine, no more incidents, making progress on his rowdy play, otherwise pretty boring.  I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it didn’t.  I knew it was coming time to close the case, and tentatively put a check in the win column with Tad’s name on it.  Tiffany and I discussed this, and agreed.  My work is done for now.

I think of Tad and the road where Tiffany first found him.  They’ve come so far from the suffering and the tears.  Now, there are so many more roads yet to explorer.  That’s the way it goes with people and their dogs.  Another adventure into the unknown, except for the one thing they each know for sure.  They’re in this together.

Posted in Training Tad | Tagged , | 2 Comments

My Foster Buddy

Posted on December 28, 2011 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KSA, CDBC

The funny thing is, life never seems to turn out exactly as planned.  For example, I didn’t really plan on fostering a dog.  Tim and I haven’t had much success with it in the past, and frankly I didn’t think he’d go for the idea.  As it turns out, Buddy was available as a short-term “holiday foster” and Tim said yes.

My guess is that Buddy’s life isn’t going exactly as he’d planned either (if in fact dogs do any planning at all).  The folks from Corridor Rescue Inc. found him in a parking lot, homeless and without a human.  He had heartworms (light positive) and probably hadn’t had a good meal in a while.  He settled in nicely at a local kennel until the holidays rolled around.  The kennel needed his run for the holiday rush, so Buddy came to us.  Now, here he is by my side gnawing a bully stick (video) as I write.

Buddy

I really didn’t expect Buddy to be so amazingly and beautifully – average.  Certainly he has the magic and wonder that all average dogs have.  It’s not an insult.  It’s just that most of the dogs I see day in and day out have problems adjusting to and coping with life with humans.  Some have serious problems.  Buddy, despite his questionable beginnings, doesn’t.  Despite having no place beyond his modest run to call home, despite having nothing – not so much as a collar, Buddy is undamaged – average – just a typical dog – just Buddy.

He renews my faith in life and all its plans gone awry.  He hadn’t been in our home an hour before he was playing.  It was vigorous and joyful.  It wasn’t play for the weary; it was play for the living, for those filled with life.  He dodged and chased and hip-checked Stella like he’d known her forever.  She tired of it long before he did (and let him know it).  Given the chance, he’d have played on.  I’m sure of it.

I’d planned on training Buddy.  It was my plan to send him back better than I’d found him.  It’s clear that there isn’t a hand signal or a verbal cue that registers familiar in his happy little brain.  It’s also clear that he’s learned a whole lot about what it takes to survive in our crazy human world without any help from me.  Here’s what he’s shown me so far.

  • Car rides are for sleeping.  When the car stops, wake up and begin the next adventure.
  • Leashes are more comfortable when not pulling.  Sniff along the way but not for too long.  Avoid garbage bags.
  • Crying in the crate might work (not at our house).  If it fails, sleep in crate instead.
  • My name is Buddy.
  • People are safe.  Go to them when they call my name.
  • Chase the ball; bring it back.
  • Dogs equal play.   If a dog doesn’t want to play, keep trying.

Of course, that last one doesn’t always go as planned. A couple of dogs can be great fun.  Too many dogs at once can be scary.  Buddy didn’t do too well in his first try at dog daycare.  He was tense, and sometimes a bit too intense.  He didn’t make friends easily or quickly; he didn’t made friends at all really.  The stress built; he lashed out; then he got kicked out of the group.

Life is unpredictable, but you can count on one thing.  It usually leads us where we need to go.  Buddy needed a place to lay his head for the holidays.   As for me, I guess I needed a Buddy – a guy who is sometimes a bit rough around the edges with social scenes, a guy who’s learned a lot about life but never tires of learning more.

Buddy is available for adoption immediately.  He is appropriate for a household with other dogs who enjoy athletic play, and he is reportedly cat familiar.   He’s an excellent training candidate.  My dog training services come with him (Houston Metro Only). 

Posted in Site Original, Video! | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

The Truth About Humping

Posted on November 6, 2011 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KA CDBC

Lots of dogs hump.  For people who live with those dogs, it can be embarrassing and upsetting.  We humans aren’t comfortable talking about things related to sex, especially when our beloved dogs are being indiscreet in front of guests.  For many of us, dogs are cute innocent “babies.”  I guess now is a good time to remember they’re also animals, and animals routinely practice behavior related to their own survival.  That includes sexual behavior: humping.

From: Houston PetTalk Magazine (October 2011)

What baffles a lot of people is that dogs hump in situations that have nothing to do with reproduction.  I have a client whose 4 month old female puppy humped a stuffed animal.  We caught our dog Stewie humping his bed.  Dogs hump human legs.  Doggie daycare professionals deal with humping dogs all day, males and females, neutered and spayed.  There seems to be no rhyme or reason to it.  What’s going on here?

I asked trainer educator and author Jean Donaldson (The Culture Clash, Train Your Dog like a Pro).  She zeroed in on Modal Action Patterns.  Those are the behaviors all dogs share related to fighting, fleeing, feeding and reproducing.  She said, “All of the Modal Action Pattern categories are present in play.  That’s what play is.”  Social animals, including dogs, routinely play fight and play chase. They even pretend to stalk and hunt, so we shouldn’t ignore the idea that humping might be play sex.  However, that may not be the whole story of humping.

While humping is common in play groups and day care settings, it also occurs in other contexts.  Some dogs hump people and inanimate objects.  Sugarland Veterinary Behaviorist Dr. Lore Haug says most of the time humping is “merely a nonspecific sign of arousal.”  Trainers and day care counselors agree.  Dogs get wound up or nervous and they hump.  Pamela Johnson is a Certified Professional Dog Trainer in San Diego.  Her dog used to hump her leg during training sessions.  She videotaped the behavior and noted that the humping was caused by excitement over training and frustration when the lesson got difficult.  Still, identifying what sets off the behavior doesn’t fully answer the question: Why humping and why not some other behavior?

We should keep in mind that anything our dog does regularly is reinforced behavior.  The dog is getting something out of it.  For example, dogs who wrestle or chase during play are reinforced by other dogs who enjoy wrestling and chasing.  Similarly, dogs might enjoy the attention they get for humping.  Humping may also relieve a dog’s anxiety in an uncertain social situation.  It may just be pleasurable.  That pleasure, says Dr. Haug, “obviously would come under the sexual category.”  So, we’re back to that uncomfortable subject.  Regardless, all of this information leads us to some good ideas about stopping humping.

Make humping no fun and not a big deal.   This really means we need to control our own behavior and not react when we see our dog humping.  Don’t accidentally reinforce the behavior by freaking out.

Control the Dog’s environment.  In the case of the client’s dog who was humping the stuffed toy and in the case of our own dog humping his bed, we simply removed the objects of their affection.  People who work at doggie day care facilities calmly and gently remove a humping dog from its playmate.  In all cases, the dog can’t practice the unwanted behavior anymore.

Teach the dog a better behavior.  For the client’s dog and Stewie we replaced humping objects with more appropriate enrichment toys (Kong Toys and other treat puzzles).  In daycare, counselors might direct a humping dog to a less disturbing play behavior.  Trainer Pamela Johnson greatly decreased her dog’s humping by interrupting it and taking a short break from training.  She held and petted her dog until he calmed down, then she returned to training less-frustrating tasks.  In all cases, the handler is teaching the dog to do something other than hump.

That’s the bottom line really.  Stay calm.  Interrupt the humping.  Encourage the dog to do something else, anything else.  I might choose some of those other Modal Action Pattern behaviors, like a game of tug, or fetch, or even some nice quiet time with a chew toy.  The humping one – not many of us really want to see our innocent little dogs doing that.  Sure, it’s normal animal behavior.  But don’t forget, we’re only human.

Houston Dog Trainer Michael Baugh CPDT-KA, CDBC is the director of training and behavior at Rover Oaks Pet Resort. 

Originally published in Houston PetTalk Magazine, October 2011.

Watch Michael’s interview on Fox 26 Morning News on “Humping.”

 

Posted in Fox 26 News, Houston Pet Talk Magazine, How Dogs Learn, Problem Behavior, Video! | Tagged , , , | Comments Off

The Case of the Whining Greyhound

Posted on October 10, 2011 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KA, CDBC

(from all things dog blog):

I have a situation I’d like to submit for the Ask a Trainer posts. My dog, Desmond, whines nearly all night long.

He’s sleeps in our bedroom, in his own large dog bed, right next to our bed. He has a blanket and a pillow, too. When it’s bedtime, he starts out fine, sleeping away no problem, but a few hours later, he starts whining and doesn’t stop.

At first, we were getting up to see what was wrong. We tried taking him out to the yard to go to the bathroom, but that’s never it. We’ve also tried simply ignoring him to make him stop, but that works only some of the time–and only after quite a while of him whining 45+ minutes. The only thing that makes him stop is when we pet him for a little while and/or recover him with his blanket. Even then, he sleeps for only a few hours and then starts whining again. We’ve also tried a nightlight, but it didn’t change anything.

Sometimes on weekends we let him sleep in our bed withus, and then he almost never whines. We don’t want him in our bed on a regular basis.

What’s his problem? Is he cold? Does he miss us? Is he scared? Is he just not tired enough (He goes out for a 30-minute walk/run every morning and we try to take him out for another 30 minutes after work but sometimes it doesn’t happen. We also play with him in the yard/house.)?

He’s 18 months old. Greyhound mix. We’ve had him almost 6 months. He’s done this almost the entire 6 months! We’re exhausted. Please help us!

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Dear Greyhound owner:

You present an interesting case, and a perfect one for helping us all understand how behavior works.

First, rule out any medical causes. As it turns out, most of the cases I handle don’t have medical causation. Nevertheless, we always want to make sure the dog isn’t in any discomfort or pain.

Second, identify the behavior you want to change. This may seem like a no-brainer, but in some cases it takes a bit of thought. My guess is that in Desmond’s case you want to change the whining behavior. Keep in mind behavior is an action, something your dog is doing. Waking up and whining.

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Good Days and Tad Days

Posted on September 29, 2011 by admin

Michael Baugh CPDT-KA, CDBC

Seriously, most of my days are good days.  My best days are Tad days.

It takes me a little more than an hour to get to the clinic where Tiffany and Tad work. On the way I think about Tad, how much he’s improved, and the work we still need to do.  I also sing along (a bit too loudly) to some of my favorite music, but that’s off the subject.

The truth is Tad is improving – a lot.  I walked into the treatment area of the clinic unannounced and he didn’t make as much as a peep.  Tiffany says he’s not barking very much at all when he’s in that area looking out into the lobby.  He doesn’t bark at all anymore when the front door chime rings; and he greets people nicely in the lobby.

We focused this visit on teaching Tad some manners in the treatment area (go to your spot and stay).  We also addressed his habit of biting for attention during play.  Play biting isn’t the same as emotionally driven fear biting or so-called aggressive biting.  Still, it hurts just the same.  I was pleased when Tad and I played a bit and he didn’t bite me.  I was equally chagrined when he gave Tiffany a few good chomps.

For dogs, the function of bites that are rooted in fear or aggression are all about making something stop or go away.  The function of play bites is to get something going.  The motivation is totally different.  How do we stop it?  First, we teach Tad how to control his play.  Good dog play includes pauses, short breaks.  Watch dogs at play and you’ll see them stop and start often.  That’s the polite way to play.  So we’re teaching Tad how to start play with humans (when we prompt it) and how to “settle,” which means sit and take a short break.  The idea is to keep these training sessions short so Tad doesn’t get excited enough to bite.  If he bites and ignores the “settle” cue, he gets a “too bad” and a time out.  For a social animal like Tad, nothing could be worse than losing a round of play for a trip to the penalty box.  That’s how he’s going to learn to watch his mouth.

Tad uses his teeth a lot playing with dogs too.  That got me wondering about the great mystery of his past.  A lot of play biters were single puppies, or puppies removed from the litter too early (prior to 7 weeks of age).  Was Tad an only child?  Did he loose his siblings too early?  Puppies are good about teaching their littermates to mind their mouthy manners. I get the sense Tad missed out on this learning.

Dogs can’t tell their own stories.  We’re left to wonder, what was Tad’s life like before Tiffany found him, skinny and sick, lost and forgotten?  So much of his behavior tells us he lived with people.  Who were they?  Did they send him away or just let him wander off?  Was it because of the biting?  Do they think about him?  Do they miss him?

I think about that on my way home, south on I-45 toward Houston, almost 6 months to the day from when Tiffany found Tad.  I don’t know, but I believe dogs draw from a deep well of forgiveness.  I like to think Tad’s moved on and doesn’t dwell on the hurt of past offenses the way we humans do.  There’s lots to learn from all this.  The thing is it’s hard to tell sometimes who’s doing the learning and who’s doing the teaching.

It’s a hot Fall day in southeast Texas and there are plump promising rain clouds on the horizon.  Tad’s improving, and it’s already better than a good day.  Time to turn up the music and sing.

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