After nearly 7 years, it still makes me sad to see Lilly slink off to “hide” when she is upset or afraid or nervous. The other day, I found her wedged behind the toilet in the master bathroom. I joined her, and this is what I found.
Many thanks to Living Large in Our Little House for tagging Champion of My Heart in this Best of Blogging 7 Links thing that’s sweeping the web. It began with mostly travel bloggers, but it’s reached our shores. Here are links to our 7 Best blog posts:
If you have not yet discovered the wit and wisdom of Ruth Pennebaker, get thyself over to the Fabulous Geezersisters this second. The impeccable writing and larger life lessons astound me, post after post.
I share this recommendation today, of all days, because I just finished Pennebaker’s newest book — Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakthrough.
Pals Edie Jarolim from Will My Dog Hate Me and Amy Burkert from GoPetFriendly.com teamed up on this Pet Blogger Challenge, where they urge folks like me to ponder some of the bigger questions about why we blog.
While we’re revisiting our behavior modification and training plan for Lilly, it seems like a good time to revisit some of what got us here in terms of our long absence from formal agility training — group, private, or otherwise. I made many mistakes because I didn’t fully understand how fearful Lilly was and how many things contributed to her negative reaction to an agility course (and the monsters she thinks live there).
In response to Friday’s Training Update, Sam from over at MargeBlog asked:
BTW, I know Lilly is too scared still to even do private agilitylessons. Why is that? If there are no other dogs around, is she anxiousthat they might appear? Or is she stressed by having someone watch her?Does she exhibit any of the same signs at home if you were to have herplay around on the equipment if someone was watching? I have beenthinking about this and meant to ask you.
The simplest answer is that so much went so wrong in Lilly’s agility training that she immediately shuts down, and I mean full-on shuts down, any time she sees agility equipment anywhere other than at home. Our dog trainer, Gigi Moss, went with me to the agility field where we were took private and group lessons as well as did our own individual, drop-in training toward the end of our formal agility work. As soon as she saw the depth of Lilly’s fear reaction, she advised me to pull Lilly and keep her far from this setting for a while. That was about two years ago.
If you missed it way back, here is what Lilly “told” an animal communicator about agility and rally training.
For a while after we gave up classes of any kind, Lilly did OK for drop-in work, as long as we waited for all the dogs to leave. Once we were alone, she raced around like crazy. But, even that changed sometime in May 2007, when it got so bad that the place needed to be empty from the time we arrived to the time we left, otherwise it was a wash. And, it got really old driving an hour each way, only to have Lilly flip out and refuse to budge. I could afford drop-in fees, but not what it would cost to reserve the whole course just for us at a specific time each week.
And, if I’m being honest, it was a place where EVERYONE competes at a high level and few had much patience or sympathy for a newbie with a fearful dog (Elayne at Days of Speed excluded, of course). Many of those dogs had issues of their own, which I’m sure Lilly knew too.
Via the clarity of hindsight, I will say that it was more than worry about other dogs. It was more than the agility equipment itself, especially the much-feared teeter. It was such a complicated and mixed-up mess of experiences and associations, sites and sounds, that unraveling it felt impossible.
So, we quit going. Period.
Since home is the only place where Lilly has ever truly run agility without worry (most of the time) we experimented with various “audiences.” Lilly typically will run her home course, if people watch. Sometimes, she is a little slow, but she will run. Lilly can also do agility with mules, horses, goats, and cattle watching … at close range. Her home course backs up to a big ranch, and she indeed has done agility with very large animals mere feet away. So, I once mused that her animal fears were species specific.
As we began having Lilly’s few dog friends over to the house to help with our training, we learned that even here she will not do agility with other dogs (even ones she likes and trusts) watching or anywhere nearby. This includes our big boy Ginko, Lulu’s big brother Pitsch, and even Katie, Lilly’s former best, best friend the borzoi.
Now, we do have video of Lilly doing an agility-like task with Katie right there, so there is some hope. But, keep in mind that Lilly and Katie had a VERY special bond.
And, there was once last spring when I got Lilly, Katie, and even GINKO to do a series of jumps together out back, but we were mostly screwing around and not really training.
For a while, after we quit training in agility, I would still take Lilly to outdoor trials just to sit off to the side and watch, far from the equipment and dogs so that she could get cued into the trail environment, but we pretty much gave that up too because I realized that I was trying to do too much and needed to take about a million steps back.
If and when we return to private agility training , it will be at a new location, with a new trainer (a friend of Gigi’s), in an environment where competition isn’t as important or touted. I’m guessing that will be sometime in spring 2010, unless the weather is amazing this winter and we make faster progress on other work that our behaviorist wants me to complete before we re-introduce an agility training center.
Really, I just want to be able to run full courses with Lilly so that she can gain experience and confidence and so that I can learn to be a better handler so that I’m not a complete wreck when/if I have another agility dog in the future.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask, but we’ll see what Lilly decides.
In response to last week’s Training Update, my professional writer and dog-loving friend Kerri Fivecoat-Campbell (who blogs about living large in a little house) asked for some background on why exactly I would work so hard and continue to put so much effort into training Lilly. Here is my best attempt at answering that question, which is bigger than I suspect Kerri ever imagined.
Kerri asked: I wonder if you would explain a little of your motivation with Lilly? You seem to work very hard, and I’ve never seen anyone work as hard in training unless it is to eventually have some sort of service or therapy dog, or for dog shows.
If you too are new to our blog and wonder what on earth all this is about, I suggest catching up via a handful of early entries filed under Backstory. You can always find them under Category Archives in the sidebar to the left. In particular, see my second-ever post entitled Why Champion of My Heart? (A much-shortened version of that post lives permanently in the sidebar, under Lilly’s smiling photo.)
A couple years later, let’s revisit this question of WHY?
Essentially, living with Lilly, a dog with such generalized fears around the house, to noises and motion, with people, and particularly with other dogs, transformed me into a different kind of Dog Girl. To communicate with Lilly and to help her LEARN to handle the world, I had to move far beyond what most people consider dog training and well into the realm of behavior modification.
I’m not kidding when I say that I’m earning my PhD from the University of Dogs With Issues.
I’ve made mistakes and gotten terrible advice. I wasted a lot of time, especially trying many “holistic” options before turning to the medications that are now helping so much. I’ve cried. I’ve felt like the biggest failure in the history of dogs. I’ve quit. I’ve started again. I’ve cried some more.
Performance Dog, Not Pet
Lilly is my first-ever “performance” dog. And, yes, that is a kind of “show dog.” Leave it to me to have a a performance dog with performance anxiety.
While our ultimate GOAL is indeed to return to serious agility training (and, we hope, some competition before she gets too old), let’s be clear that the dog came first, the sport second.
I did NOT set out to adopt an “agility dog.” I adopted a dog who sorely needed a job, and agility was an early contender for Lilly’s “work” because it’s hilarious and a serious mental and physical challenge for person and dog. (I even took a human agility class for a while so that I could improve my sprinting skill and speed, as well as overall fitness.) Plus, agility is much more accessible than competitive herding and way more laid back than competitive obedience.
Initially, Lilly was downright amazing at agility, and I got hooked … on the puzzle of it all, on the great people I met, on the rock-star dogs. Dog training became a new hobby, or even avocation.
Then, The Trouble Started
Lilly had always been fearful or shy, but as she matured things shifted into something more. Her fears continued to worsen until we had to quit agility lessons entirely … and focus on fixing our increasing problems across all venues at home and in public.
And, that’s where we’ve been for a couple years now. We began a progressive medicine and methodology routine in summer 2008 with an eye toward returning to agility training. Our behaviorist STILL believes we could compete at some level. I think she is overly optimistic.
Our Current Work
In the meantime, we continue with behavior modification, tricks, and agility in controlled settings because Lilly needs to work and learn. We continue to take what I call advanced “pet dog” classes with our AMAZING dog trainer (Gigi Moss). We continue to have regular contact and consults with our certified applied animal behaviorist (Jennie Jamtgaard) from the veterinary school at Colorado State University.
The Bigger Why
Spending so much time and effort and mental bandwidth on helping Lilly be happy and productive (not fearful and shutdown) has become a major part of my life. Call it a habit, if you like.
Beyond the obvious activity, however, is the personal growth for both of us.
Everything that has happened in the last five years taught me that we can have a profound relationship with our dogs. Forget this “dogs as children” thing. I do refer to myself as Lilly’s Mom, but it’s more than that.
We have a kinship and communication that’s unlike anything I’ve ever had with a dog. (And, I’ve had a canine in my life since I was a toddler.) We have a partnership that’s meaningful in a way I cannot yet fully explain. We have a connection that I believe eclipses the day-to-day work we do together.
So, I guess the ultimate answer is that I continue to do all this with Lilly, for Lilly, and for me because it has become part of who I am as a Dog Girl. I think once you experience a bond like this, forged through training and teamwork, you can never go back.
Still, you should know that MANY agility people, including former trainers, told me to “retire” Lilly to life as an at-home pet years ago and simply start over with a new dog.
Because of my inherent loyalty and, for lack of a better word, monogamy, that isn’t an option. At least one of those former trainers now says it shows “character” that I haven’t given up on Lilly. Most times, I think that’s a euphemism for crazy or stubborn.
But, in my heart, I try to think of it as hope.
Seriously. I’m putting my foot down. Lilly and I have a
veterinary appointment this morning, and I’m asking for them to draw
blood according to exacting standards, and I’m shipping the blood to
Dr. Jean Dodds at Hemopet in California for detailed thyroid testing. She’s considered by many to be the ONE WHO KNOWS when it comes to canine hypothyroidism.
If
memory serves, I’ve asked 5 times (with 2 different veterinarians) about a possible thyroid cause for
Lilly’s extreme moods. But, because she’s not fat, because she’s not
losing hair, because she’s not lethargic with poor endurance, I’ve been
steered away from the idea.
I’ve felt pooh-poohed.
I
haven’t dramatized recent changes too much, but suffice it to say that
something is definitely up with Lilly. She’s had a serious behavioral
set-back. I’m seeing fear behaviors that I haven’t seen in a long, long
time. She often hides in the house, for hours. She’ll fling herself to the ground in fear, even at home, for no apparent reason. All you have to do is read the last 4-6 Weekly Training Updates to see that there’s been a shift.
Dr. Dodds collects and aggregates data at Hemopet. This allows her to research and comment upon what’s normal and what’s not based on a dog’s breed, sex, age, etc — rather than one narrow set of norms that’s supposed to apply to all dogs.
I’m a little nervous about all the instructions the vet staff and I need to follow to make sure the blood arrives in CA in a usable form, but I’ll do my best.
So, stay tuned for this medical mystery to unfold.
I realized recently that maybe I haven’t given you enough detail on what exactly I mean when I say that Lilly shuts down. So, here, in full glory — using the best literary devices I know — is a description of a true and total shut down.
I once took a comparative religion class, where we read primary texts to uncover what God is. I vividly remember one section of the Koran that essentially went on and on and on about what Allah isn’t. And, buried inside the pages of text was one sentence that said what Allah is.
To help you understand all that is Lilly, I’ll switch that strategy.
When Lilly shuts down, she is simply gone. Her eyes are empty. It’s as if her soul ran away. I cannot reach her with word, or deed, or toy, or food.
She does not get the zoomies. She does not get the sniffies. She might well run off course, but it’s a total panicked run. It’s a full-blown flee … not like “Hey, what’s over there?”
She looks for a place to hide and stays there, cowering, shaking, gums pale (like she’s in shock and all her blood has gone to her core).
Keep in mind that I’m a green handler, so when it first started happening about 6-9 months into our agility training, I had no idea what to do. I got all kinds of input from people, including that Lilly was being manipulative and that I was making things worse by trying to help her relax.
Clearly, my goal in life is to keep Lilly from getting to this point. She now offers (or maybe I now see) earlier and more subtle signs that trouble is brewing. She’ll move slower. She’ll pause, standing. She’ll lay down in a very specific way as if to say “no further.”
That lay down, in particular, is interesting. She folds one arm underneath her and lowers her head over it. I could swear I read something in one of Patricia McConnell’s books about this body position having a name, but for the life of me, I can’t find it.
So, I honor these signs (most of the time) and give Lilly a break before trying again. There have been many times that the ONLY solution is to leave class and go home. She recovers quickly once she’s removed.
This is where the mat training and relaxation training from “Control Unleashed” might be helpful. Lilly naturally wants a safe place. I just have to make it a happy, safe place … rather than the hiding place.
Sometimes, I do push her past a pause by coaxing her to run. I chant to her “The faster we move, the braver we are” as we run, and it’s true. Sometimes, she needs to just run through a threshold (real or from fear) and come out the other side.
Often, once she’s faced the “scary” thing or place, she’ll leap as high as my head, like she’s really excited. I call that “jumping her jitters out,” and there is a song for that too … like those Wiggles songs for kids. Then, after she’s jumped which I see as a confident action, I’ll ask her to work a little — usually something easy, like a trick.
If she’ll do tricks and take treats, then she’s working within her boundaries. If not, then I’d best pay attention because a total shut down may be coming.
Finding places in public (with other dogs and people) where Lilly can work (even if it’s not agility) is key. That’s why we take the Sunday drop-in pet obedience class so much. Lilly is a total ringer when it comes to doing that kind of work, but the fact that she will work AT ALL in front of other dogs is good.
Yes, we work hard to keep other dogs out of her face. Yes, she leaves the yard when it’s time for a play break.
But, at least she’s there and happy and working. Trust me, there have been many times early on when she wasn’t, and all I could do was come home.
In early
2007, we began having problems again with Lilly wandering the neighborhood. The
snow drifts were taller than our fences, so it was easy for her to get out.
This is also around the same time as the snarking began at our rally obedience
classes, which we were doing to try and build ring confidence for agility. Can you say backfire? So, I asked the communicator to find out what was up. Here are the
results.
Keep
in mind that the communicator is British, so when she says garden, she means
yard. Oh, and we don’t have a boat, but our neighbors do. (Hey, again, Katy …
Lilly loves your boat for some reason.) To my knowledge, Lilly has never been
on a boat.
Also,
the notes talk about Lilly “attacking” other dogs. But, that’s something she
doesn’t do. She’ll bark, growl and show her teeth, but she’s never truly went
after or hurt another dog. So, take that word as used below, with a bit of
context.
Oh,
and we were already using click-to-calm methods mentioned long before the
snarking started.
Lilly is
keen as ever to connect with me and she opens the session by barking at me
excitedly and spinning to the right, wanting me to follow closely. She takes me
outside and leads me to where a boat is (normally) parked. The scene does not
refer to today, as there is no snow on the ground. She is showing me around. When
I ask what it is about the boat, she shows me an outing in the vehicle to a
lake that she enjoyed and then moves quickly to what I think is your backyard. I
see a play frame of sorts, like part of a house and also a see-saw. (This is her home agility course.) She likes to be
outside, and she likes to play out here. She is full of energy and excitement,
she feels light and engaging.
I let her
know why I am here and explain that things have changed recently. She continues
to flit around with her thoughts, and so I ask her how she feels about the snow.
It’s pretty much been white and covered a lot of her activities. She shows me
that there is less to do and see in the garden, and so she feels she needs to
explore and find other exciting things to do.
You haven’t
been out together so much on your walks, and she has taken it upon herself to
walk. She sees others do that in the neighborhood and believes it’s quite
alright. She shows me the snow-drifts in
the garden and specifically points out the top right hand corner of the
property. As I start to say that you’re worried about her leaving. She
continues with how she’s alright and can take care of herself. She has always
been alright, and she always comes home. I point out that we know she can take
care of herself and appreciate her intelligence. It’s not so much her as the
road conditions for the vehicles, the deep snow drifts and the weather changes.
It would be preferable if she asked you to go with her and see if you couldn’t
go out together for a wee while.
I share
your message about the rally ring to her, so that she knows where the
conversation is leading. I am not personally familiar with the rally obedience
training and ask Lilly to show me some scenes. She shares an activity of
herself and other dogs standing one end and the people the other end – in
effect they are loose and not on leads or lines. The purposes is for there to
be distance training and obedience with them ultimately coming to their person.
Prior to
this & while she is still on a lead I see her shut-down. She is lying down
and solid as a rock, with intermittent shaking. As though she looses her mind
and is no longer present, in a way as though something has caused intense fear
(I see it a bit like if someone has seen a scary sight). “Its alright Lilly” –
you say to her as you massage, touch & stroke her.
“What makes
you so worried”, I ask? She is instant and clear with the answer. It’s the
stimulus, outside stimulus. She is highly sensitive and she hears all the
noises, the sounds, the distractions. She looses her focus, and she can no
longer decipher your words amongst the rest. There is much going on with the
other people, the dogs (although focused on their people), the movement around
her and you. She finds it really difficult to understand you.
She is so
keen to show me that she is good. She goes right back to your garden and her
ability to perform when it’s the 2 of you! She really is trying, but she
cannot seem to make it work.
She shows
me a golden retriever who does the class really well. This particular dog must
have been physically close to her at some point, because the perfection
aggravated her. I wonder if she can’t have her own time, where only she performs, then
she watches and maybe there are only 2 dogs going at the same time. She
shows me that she got pretty mad and literally ran across the area to attack
(so to speak) another. She shows me barking too, it appears to be
excitement, but it’s more of a stressful/overload situation. Her mind is
exceedingly active and while she begins to process one cue, she already has
moved onto the next one, while taking in her environment and processing her
natural needs and desires too, which ultimately builds up into tension and
confusion. It makes sense why the one-on-one works better for her.
I’ve
obviously missed a piece here, because we return to the attacking and although
from a scientific standpoint I don’t know how this would be received, but Lilly feels as
though the other dogs don’t understand her. She feels like they are mocking her
inability to do this. There are many wonderfully behaved and talented
dogs there. I believe this adds another perspective and dynamic to the picture.
It will have appeared like the other dog did nothing to the people watching on,
but Lilly felt slighted.
I take a
moment to explain to her that some dogs really enjoy their work, they find it
easy to focus on a person and can literally close out the stimulus, it’s not so
much mocking as a pure enjoyment. I cannot, of course, assure her that nobody
feels this way, as I am not there.
I continue
to explain to her that she cannot go around attacking other dogs in class or in
general. That she is so smart, agile and strong that she needs to stay watching
you. When she feels less than the others, come to you. Walk away from the situation
and come to you.
She tells
me that she has done this, that she has shown her concern prior to the class,
that she has laid down, you have reassured her through your means. This has
only given her enough to walk on through but when she looses it again, now she
takes it to the next level. The acu-pressure/massage is not the answer she
tells me. It only helps in the moment, it soothes, but it doesn’t look at the
root cause.
As I write
this, I remember conversations I have had with my girlfriend in CA about
clicker training and the expo I have been to. You may really find that clicker
training is a wonderful way forward for you both. The trainers can assist with teaching focus,
direction while creating a confident being.
Lilly lacks the focus and
the confidence right now to get her through this, but it doesn’t mean that she
is incapable of learning any of these classes. She may need to step back and begin by
learning to relax on cue, learning to focus on cue and then moving forward to
blocking out other stimulus – this will truly build her confidence to face
others.
I don’t get
the sense that any incident in particular has caused this behavior. I think
it’s a build up to this point and that Lilly learns differently, because of her
personality and make-up.
The help
can come in so many ways and I believe it’s a good start with the clicker
training – teaching her to relax etc. I ask her to explain her work and play
time……she shows me a ball. The situation she shares is that the work and play
has no pressure, it’s a matter of incorporating lessons within play. She
decides that she wants a ball and throws her weight around. She challenges
another with her energy and growling and takes it up to the next level.
This
appears to be another kind of possessiveness but also dominance. Part of her is proud when she achieves the
result, and she thinks she will be seen as a top dog. In other words she is gaining
something by this behavior now. Both scenarios are different, but she is
learning that she gains something. I begin to share with her that this is not
acceptable, it’s not kind behavior and will not serve her. This behavior will
isolate her from others, and she will not be able to play, be free or join the
class. The friendly way of playing, sharing and having fun will mean that there
is more play time, which she loves!
I consider
many aspects and let her know that her mind is so busy, she loves to explore
and see new things, here you are prepared to go that extra mile with her, but
she needs to co-operate. The only way you can do this together is if she plays
fair and has fun with others.
I believe that you made need to go back to
basics with her before you can proceed too much and the above suggestions will
help to make a resolution program. I ask her if she wants to create some kind of sign for you
to see that she is getting worried that you will be willing to notice this sign
and try to act on it before she gets too worried. She shows herself lying down and rather than
the acu-pressure alone, she shows me a picture of you leading her away. Taking
a bit of time out and then returning, this may actually build her up and help
her – knowing that she can leave and then return later and not be surrounded by
what is upsetting her. Taking her away for a bit, taking her mind of things,
walking around thereby dispersing the energy, re-evaluating the situation,
calming through voice, reassurance and then returning (This cue relates
more to training than the playtime as that is a different cause).
In July
2006, about 6 months into Lilly’s agility meltdown, I sought help from an
animal communicator. Essentially, I asked her to find out what’s causing Lilly
concern at agility classes and what she needed me to do to help. I did not give
the communicator any details on what the problems looked like. I simply gave
her a list of pretty vague questions and a photo of Lilly. She did not meet
Lilly, nor did she know much about agility as a sport. Here are the results of
their first communication session together.
Think of the process like Lilly
showing the communicator little video clips from her life. She jumps around
some from image to image. So, sometimes, it’s just a description of the images.
Other times, the communicator is explaining what she believes they mean. (I
copied and pasted this from an email, so I’m sorry if some of the punctuation
gets screwy in the blog translation.)
I begin
to settle in and quiet my mind for an open channel to communicate with Lilly. I
feel that she is full of energy, eager and keen. She likes interaction and is
very present to what you are looking for and wanting. She approaches with a
keen eye, with a sense of presence and a likeability factor. A girl that is
forward, friendly and has a heart as large as
upon my return! She puts a smile on my face just thinking about her. She
has an energy that one would feel needs to be channeled and if she spins it’s
to the right.
She is
on the go and she shows me a picture of her playing tug of war, pulling on an
old rope type thing. She puts her nose to the ground and likes to seek out
smells, as though to hunt or follow a track. She uses her nose to bury. She has
a good sense of smell. She wants to share that.
Your
energy is good for her. She feels as though she has found her place. Your
husband has a calmer energy, quieter, and the interaction is quite different for
her between the 2 of you. It appears that you have the sense to want to do
specific things, tasks with Lilly, whereas his is more of a presence. This
doesn’t make her feel as though she belongs to one and not the other, she
appreciates the role she has and how it changes. She respects both of you, just
in different ways. I would say that he is more serious and yet don’t get me
wrong, for she will bring out play in the both of you.
Lilly
brings light to people’s lives. She shows loyalty, friendship and the art of
play. She really knows her role and embraces it fully. She feels that it will
lead to greater messages for others along the way. Do not be surprised when she
brings new things your way.
I share
with her that you have some questions and that we would like to improve some
areas of her life. I let her explore what she would like to offer, and we begin
with the agility. This is her take on the agility course.
She
shows me a picture of the weaving. She seems to be okay with this (poles
weaving in and out). She is close to you here, your excitement is apparent. You
use your hands to cue, like a clapping or holding them together.
She
watches on … {I removed details
here, with a very accurate description of one of our early trainers.} She is
not sure about this woman. It’s her tone and the way she carries herself.
It
looks as though Lilly will stop sometimes during the course. She will stop and
look at you, as though to ask “What is this about?” Food will not always
motivate her either; it’s the point of the activity. She is very smart and
needs to understand why she is doing this. It occupies her mind for a while, and
then she gets distracted and wonders why you are so enthusiastic.
There
are other dogs looking on. Its not that she even wants to go over to them. She
is not worried or concerned with them. You may think it’s a blank stare, but in
fact, it’s more of a questioning.
When I
ask her if she is concerned, I get no response. She doesn’t appear worried at
all, even though she may hesitate at times.
I begin
to explain the point of the agility, the relationship building, trust,
obedience, friendship and of course the fun aspect. I see a tunnel and am not
sure if this is the exercise or a way for her to express that she hesitates.
She won’t always go through, but would if someone led the way – it’s a sign of
being unsure. If we can marry the point with some confidence, it will come.
I believe
that she likes time-out from the individual exercises. She loves being around
you. She shows me a couple of obstacles, not all together. Kind of one or 2 at
a time. I take it that she means to break up the session and then do something
else, that way you can build on each piece. It’s as though she likes to have
time-out and then begin once again.
Do you
have a favorite toy for her, could you take that with you? I can see a
soft toy, like a teddy or something. If you think she will chew the toy, don’t
worry, as it will be one for the agility course that she gets for a certain
period of time. She will appreciate the connection to the toy – you can
incorporate it into the exercise and also as a reward.
She
seems to really enjoy certain aspects of the agility and likes the idea to
learn, be connected. The focus will come over time. She likes variety and wants
the opportunity to do many other things – its possible that her enthusiasm will
either grow this way or diminish completely as she learns about new adventures
and opportunities. Her desires will clearly be displayed – she will show you
for sure.
When I
ask her what makes her happiest, she goes to your front door and sits down – I
do see a lead. However, it’s not so much the walk, it’s the inclusion, she
likes to go places, wherever they may be! She may wait underneath the
table, but she is alert and is ready to go. She likes the ride in the car.
Lilly
is pretty upbeat. Many dogs will take on their persons illnesses, or hold
images and feelings from the past. Lilly moves on through it. She shows me a
scene from the past, she’s friendly and is liked by the staff at the shelter.
She sees herself as being liked. People stop by and say Hi, they chat to her
and play with her. She gets to go out and play, and she stays happy through it
all. She had some aches in her left shoulder, it ran down her arm.
As I
try to delve deeper to show me the life before the shelter I see a little boy
cuddling her. I cannot help but wonder if she was in that home for a while, as
though she was a gift for someone. She has little to share in this area and
does not show hunger or fear. Maybe it’s a guarded response, or maybe she was
always safe and yet not wanted.
Either
way Lilly has found her home and rather than looking back, she looks to the
future. She holds no grudge, no bad feelings, and it appears that she was happy
in the shelter (to a point) and always knew that you would pick her up!
Here are some ideas to improve upon the agility:
It’s
been a pleasure to communicate with Lilly and share her feelings and emotions
as well as ideas and aspirations. I trust that these suggestions will give you
ideas to build upon for the agility course and if you need me to look at
specific areas not covered let me know.
Lilly
is a true gift and I know that she will bring you all much joy. Communicating
with animals is something that we can all do, we just need to quiet our minds
to be able to listen. Trust your own instincts too!
>>>>>>>>>>
Just a couple comments from me, post-script:
Many of the suggestions made were things I was already doing with Lilly. The tunnel image made me laugh because Lilly will go into tunnels and not come out when she’s shutting down at agility class.
Lilly had another session in early 2007 right after the snarking started. I’ll post that one tomorrow.
So, I’m in the shower this morning, and someone crashes into the bathroom door. I assume Tom is rough-housing with the pups and just laugh. But, when I open the door, I find Lilly cowering outside.
As soon as the door is wide enough, she bolts in, scrambles over the scale and wedges herself between the wall and the toilet. (I posted a photo of this spot in the Places She’ll Hide entry a few weeks ago.) So, it was fear, not play, that sent her crashing into the door.
I turned out the light, let her calm down and got dressed as usual. I didn’t know why she was afraid, but I often don’t. Then, just as I turned off the hair dryer, I heard a noise we’ve known for a while really freaks Lilly out.
Here’s a 4-second audio clip of it – Scary MAC noise.
It’s a BLING kind of noise that Tom’s Mac makes whenever he opens or saves an excel file. We don’t know why, but this noise scares the heck out of Lilly. We realized the problem a few months back when she came flying down the stairs and into my arms while he worked on his computer upstairs. She literally shook in fear. It took a few instances before we made the connection between that noise and her reaction.
But, here’s the weird thing … Tom is working on a new project that requires all manner of metal banging, sanding, grinding and such. We’re talking seriously screeching noises. Noises I would compare to fingernails on a chalk board, and those don’t bother her a bit. Thunder storms, fire truck sirens, rumbling engines are not a problem. But this particular computer sound does her in.
I’m pretty sure it’s not an associative fear. In other words, I don’t think it’s combined in her memory with something else that’s scary. I think it’s just the noise itself.
I don’t claim to understand it.
The research that first ranked dog breeds by intelligence essentially measured how many exposures it took for various dogs to learn something new. Border collies, as you’ve likely heard, were (and often are) touted as the “smartest” dogs. Now, I don’t know about smartest … as in smarter than every other dog in the world, but Lilly is very smart, and she is certainly smarter than any dog I’ve had.
I cruised through that old breed research a while back, and as I recall, border collies often learn new things in as few as 5 exposures. Based on my 2+ years with Lilly, I’d say that’s true for tasks. When it comes to “scary” things or me trying to outwit Lilly for toe nail trims or baths, then the learning curve (sadly for me) is much shorter … like 1-2 exposures.
Lately, for example, I’ve been using the Turkey-for-Toe nails method. For each nail Lilly lets me cut, she gets a piece of turkey. Simple. Sort of.
I’ve tried all manner of body positions to align my cutting hand with her feet — front, side, over the top, under the chin. Each one works once, maybe twice, before I have to come up with a new strategy. Last week, for example, I tried sitting behind Lilly and reaching around in a hug to get her back toe nails. It worked, but I bet next time I try to snuggle with her that way she’ll give me that suspicious face.
To combat that association, I’ve started sitting behind her to massage her back and shoulders and hips. She’s nearly all muscle, so I figure it probably feels pretty good to her. I’ve done the same with her front feet. She likes to have her front paws rubbed in a flat swirling motion, like a paw pancake with my hands above and below hers. She’ll keep offering me alternating paws for as long as 30 minutes. Plus, we get to practice her Shake and Other Hand cues.
It’s funny to see her do this to other people. They think she wants to shake, but she really wants her feet rubbed. I try to explain and show them the method, but it isn’t long before Lilly gives me that they-just-don’t-get-it face.
This summer, I thought I was super smart when I figured out the Pond-Play-Bath method. I throw Lilly’s ball into the pond. She gets soaked, swimming out to get it. I soap her up on the bank when she returnss, then I rinse her with a pitcher from either a bucket of house water or the pond. It worked beautifully …. twice. That’s it.
I tried it again this weekend with no luck. She got the ball once, but when I reached for her and the soap, she sprinted off.
With Tom’s help, I caught up with her near the baby pool we keep under a down spout to catch rain water. I soaped her and rinsed her there with some success. But, I finally had to get a couple really wet towels and wipe her down.
I try to be so clever to find ways of doing doggie maintenance tasks in a way that Lilly tolerates, but it’s getting harder and harder.
So, while I do enjoy how easy it is to teach Lilly new tricks, for example, I’m not so keen on how fast she gets my number when I try to fool her into something else.
I’m left with this question … would I rather have a dumb-clean dog or a smart-occassionally stinky one?
P.S. I make soap sometimes, including a pet-shampoo bar. It smells good and leaves the coat really shiny. Maybe I should have a contest or something and the winner can have some soap. Holler if you have any ideas for a funny contest.
Last week, we got back the results of Lilly’s blood work in preparation for trying antidepressants to help her cope. The good news is that it came back with no scary or weird results. I asked for the full thyroid panel, and her values (I’m told) are normal. If I can get the full report, I’ll post her numbers later.
Her blood count numbers do reflect that Lilly lives and trains at 8,000 feet above sea level. Like me, she has a very high red cell count … just call us Sherpa girls!
Because the dosing such medications is more nuance than formula based only on weight, our veterinarian took his time choosing Lilly’s starting dose of amitriptyline. He called yesterday morning with a decision — half of a 75 mg pill once a day. So, essentially we’ll start with 37 mg per day. Lilly weighs 34-35 pounds, so it’s just more than one mg per pound.
The nurse is calling the prescription into a local human pharmacy today since they don’t keep it on their hospital shelves. I guess I’ll go pick it up this afternoon and probably start giving it tomorrow.
If you are interested in reading a good overview of these meds for anxiety and such in dogs, I recommend a piece called “Anxiety Medications” by Mary Straus that ran in the July 2006 issue of Whole Dog Journal. Mary has the full text of the article on her website.
It includes details on her own saga with a phobic dog named Piglet, so the story doesn’t match our scenario, but the summary of what drugs can be used when is helpful as a baseline knowledge for those of us with sensitive, anxious dogs.
Our trainer said it’s quite common for docs to start with amitriptyline, rather than an SSRI like Prozac or Zoloft. Amitriptyline is an older drug that our doc has more experience with, so that’s where we’re starting.
Once upon a time, when Lilly was still an evasive pup, she got lost right here at home. We looked high and low but did not see her smiling face anywhere. We checked all over but saw no tiny black butt sticking up from an under-construction hole. We drove the neighborhood, calling her name, to no avail.
So, we came home and retraced our steps. We checked the house, the creekbed, the shed.
Tic-toc, time passed, and still no Lilly.
Through tear-filled eyes (let’s face it I was bawling at this point), I wandered our property, calling her name.
And, then I heard it — the grunts and squeaks of a pup that could see and hear me, but not get to me. So, I followed the noise, still calling her name.
As I rounded the west side of the house for the millionth time, I saw her head poking out from a gap between our back deck and the house. Clearly, that’s not how she got under there. Clearly, she couldn’t remember how to get out.
It’s no longer there. But, at the time, there was a trap door access to some hot tub piping, so we peeled that back, stuck our heads in the hole and called Lilly to us. She was pretty freaked out as she squirmed her way under the deck bracing and over the support poles, but once we got her close, we hoisted her out the trap door.
Our best guess is that she squeezed between the east stairs (where the rattle snake was recently) and the house. We immediately closed that gap, so that particular spot hasn’t been a problem since.
But, look what I found earlier this week … first the hall bathtub, now this:
The hall bathtub
Subtitle — what can happen when a border collie gets bored. As a youngster, Lilly did not get into typical puppy trouble. She did not chew anything up. She did not have potty accidents in the house. She did not fuss much at all. Instead, she went looking for adventure.
Until we replaced most of it in summer 2006, the fence around our property showed some 30 years of sag. Droopy and bent, low at the top and high at the bottom, it had issues.
Your average dog, like our big boy Ginko, stayed perfectly contained in the fence. So, please don’t think it was that bad. Just not perfect.
Lilly, however, found the fence puzzle far too enticing. She went under. She went over. She even went through, aiming her leaps between the cattle fencing and the barbed wire atop it. Once Ginko (who is part Lab) taught her the joys of water, she even learned to hold her breath, dive in the creek, and swim under the fence.
We stretched new wire. We closed even tiny gaps. We drove posts across the creekbed. But, nothing stopped her.
Then, we started training in agility, and all that ended.
Once Lilly had some regular work to do, she no longer needed to create her own adventures. As amusing as I’m sure they were, she decided that home (and all the places she now got to go) were more fun. Suddenly, mommy was far more interesting.
People often say odd things about what it must be like to live with a high-energy dog. But, the truth is that each day it takes just a few sessions of fetch, just a bit of time asking her to think, and she’s perfectly happy. Granted, it’s an intense, staring contest, move-every-time-Mommy-moves kind of happy, but still happy.
I’m not going to tell you that Lilly never wanders. Winter 06-07, for example, sent so much snow that we essentially had not fence thanks to very tall snow drifts. Or, just a couple months ago, the elk peeled back our fence. Surely, Lilly took advantage of that gaping hole.
But, for the most part, a thinking girl is a girl who stays home.
