Weekly Training Update (Aug 15)

Oh, how I want to shout from the rooftops about a big breakthrough in dog training. But, this week we had a couple rough days with fading fears at home flaring up. Alas, the progress Lilly is making measures in infinitesimal degrees. It’s no longer merely snark/no snark, work/no work … It’s pupil size. It’s breathing pattens. It’s even the shape of her black-and-white, border collie head.

As I’ve mentioned recently, that darling boy I’m married to has been uber busy this summer. So, we don’t often get the chance to just chat or to discuss in detail all things Lilly. BUT, while driving to see our friends Jess and Linda, who recently lost their handsome sheltie Onchu and were in CO visiting family, Tom started talking about the shape of Lilly’s head.

“Have you noticed that it changes shape depending on how she feels?”

My answer … yep. I’d absolutely noticed, but I was surprised he had. Indeed, Lilly’s intense face (even the smiling one to your left) is very angular, very pointy. But, when she’s sleepy or worried, her head gets very round.

When she’s giving the stink-eye or getting ready to snark (if I catch it), her mouth gets very tight. Her eyes change. Her face just seems “hard,” if that make sense.

The good news is that lately, she gets this funny, relaxed face. I’ve referred to it before as her Vinnie Barbarino face (yes, I’m totally dating myself with that reference). Remember, when he’d do that fake Ha-Ha-Ha and say “Don’t make me laugh,” or some such?

Well, that kind of mildly amused face is one we see a lot of these days. Tom teases me that Lilly is high from the medicine, but I think she’s just relaxed.

At just 4 weeks, I can’t say yet that the new meds are helping or not since I’m not allowed to use old measures (but she did snark at some dogs on our walk this week … long story), but I can say that she seems happy and relaxed at the same time. Before now, her happy face (even with a peanut butter stuffed kong) was also an intense one. The difference? In intensity, it’s as if she’ll just DIE if she doesn’t play with that toy now. In just plain happy, she still plays with fervor, but the look on her face is more like, “I’m so lucky. Look at this funny toy.”

A Tiny Window Victory
Here’s the interesting thing about Lilly being afraid of our new windows. The ones that go side to side scare her much more than the ones that go up and down. The sliding doors are OK apparently, even though they also go side to side, but the set of windows over the kitchen sink put her over the top. My best guess is that the weight distribution is different which must make them squeak just enough more (with their close margins) than the ones with vertical action.

So, vertical action is where we’re focusing for now. During the various longer sit-stay task for our baseline protocol, I sometimes walk over to one of the new windows and click the lock open. Then, return to reward her for staying put. The next time there’s another long stay, I might open the window just a touch and again reward her for staying put. Another time, I might open it more, or close it (without locking it). Then, later, I might push down enough to lock it, which clicks pretty loud.

I hope to work up to the side-to-side windows eventually, but for now, I’m only doing the vertical ones during our regular work. Sometimes, while we’re making meals or stuffing food toys, I do try to reach up and touch the scary windows as well.

What My Body Tells Her
I’m using a similar tiny movement approach to the ceiling fan too. I have to reach with one hand, and on my toes, to turn on the fan and open the sink window. Lilly responds with a touch of fear to that body motion alone (as silly as it sounds). So, now at odd times, I throw that quasi-Saturday-Night-Fever pose at her. (Hmmm … John Travolta theme here.)

Indeed, I’m that crazy lady who appears to be dancing disco in her kitchen, out in the pasture, on the side of the road. I strike the pose and feed her treats. Yes, I’ve resorted to breaking down even the tiniest cue or stimuli that’s part of her fear package … no matter how ridiculous it makes me look.

A Lifetime of 1,001 Fears
One of the things I struggle with is the idea that Lilly is potentially scared by thousands of things. My big issue early on (and even now) with such detailed counter-conditioning work is that there’s no way in @#$% I can do this kind of detailed work with every … blessed … thing.

The trick, I’m assured by our behaviorist, is that over time Lilly might begin to generalize more (in a good way). She’ll have better coping skills to handle any visual thing or any noise thing that might startle her. While I take these painfully SMALL steps, I try really hard to believe that.