Strictly speaking, the title of this post doesn’t make any sense. Reinforcement strengthens behavior and positive reinforcement is adding something as a consequence to strengthen a behavior. So what the heck am I talking about?

One of the best ways to eliminate an unwanted behavior is to train another behavior to replace it. The technical term for this is Differential Reinforcement of an Incompatible behavior (DRI). It’s a very simple idea: find something that your dog cannot do at the same time as the unwanted thing, and then make doing that more rewarding.

Like many simple ideas, this is usually a lot easier to talk about than to actually implement in real life. What is the best behavior to use as a replacement? How frequently and for how long will you need to reinforce it? Are you simply replacing one annoyance for another? These are all questions that need to be considered. DRI is a thinking trainer’s tool – oftentimes it requires careful planning.

But there are plenty of examples of DRI working quite well in action. One of my favorites is using “Say Hi” for polite greetings.

Training a dog to approach a person and sniff their hand rather than jumping up on them is about as clear an example of DRI as you can find. Others use a sit or down stay as a solution for jumping up — which are good examples of DRI also — but I have found that “Say Hi” frequently works faster for a dog that is prone to over-arousal when she meets new people. It’s easier to get that type of dog to “do” something rather than to stay still.

Of course, DRI has a few pitfalls. One of them is hidden in plain sight, right in the name: Differential Reinforcement of an Incompatible behavior. Differential means reinforcing the alternate behavior and implies not reinforcing the unwanted one. In the “Say Hi” example, if people still reward jumping up with attention, chances are “Say Hi” (or sit or down stay) will fail.

DRI requires some reinforcement of its own. The new behavior needs to be well-trained and consistenly reinforced and the old, unwanted activity needs to be helped on its way out with either extinction or, if required some punishment.

Next: Gasp! I said a bad word! Punishment? Is it always bad?

Core dump? Are those edible?

You’re probably reading this on a web browser written in C++. C++ (pronounced see-plus-plus) has 63 “keywords” and about 30 or so arithmetic and logical “operators.” Compare this to the roughly 600,000 words in the last edition of the Oxford English Dictionary! With less than 100 basic building blocks, C++ can produce Firefox (for better or worse), Chrome, Internet Explorer (definitely worse), and most of the software you use every day. You don’t need a large complicated system to get things done. You’re better off with a smaller and simpler one. (As a matter of fact many programmers, myself included, think that C++ could probably lose 20 or so keywords and be the better for it.)

The four basic building blocks of operant conditioning, and thus dog training, can take us a long way toward describing and changing behavior. There’s a lot more going on than they describe, and sometimes they tend to oversimplify, but they still tend to get the job done.

When we want to train a new behavior we use positive reinforcement (R+ for short.) We are adding something (a treat, a toy, praise….) that reinforces the behavior.

This means our dog found whatever we added as a consequence of the behavior reinforcing or, as we mortal humans without white lab coats might say, rewarding. This is the first area where some people get tripped up with positive reinforcement. Just because you think it’s reinforcing, that doesn’t mean your dog will.

For example, 45 minutes into a one hour class, that yummy dog treat might start getting boring. As one of my dog trainer friends is fond of saying, “I love cheesecake! But after an hour it gets a little old.” You have to be willing to reward honest work with appropriate pay.

But the biggest mistake people make with positive reinforcement has to do with a slightly more complicated concept: reinforcement schedules. How frequently someone is rewarded for a behavior is just as important, if not more, than the type of reward. These schedules can get very complicated, but for our purposes we can keep it pretty simple.

If you’ve ever had a job for pay, you have been on a fixed reinforcement schedule. If you were paid every week, two weeks, or once a month you were on a fixed interval schedule. After a set period of time, you were paid.

The pitfall with these fixed schedules is pretty simple. What would have happened (or did happen) when it came time to get paid and you were not? Chances are, you stop working. Immediately.

So, if you give your dog a treat every time she sits for a few weeks, and then stop because “she knows it now and should just do it.” What happens?

Now think about the slot machines at Las Vegas or Atlantic City. We all know that there is no way that those machines can give out more money than is put in. But people stand there for hours, emptying their pockets into them because the machines operate on a variable reinforcement schedule. The players never know when the next reward is going to come. This is very compelling — compelling enough that some people literally cannot stop.

Most trainers will tell you, in simpler terms, to work on a fixed reinforcement schedule when you introduce a new behavior, usually rewarding your dog every time she performs the behavior (technically a “continuous” schedule). When the behavior is “reliable” (the dog does it whenever we ask) move to variable reinforcement. Many trainers will tell you “Become a slot machine!”

Many owners never get out of the fixed reinforcement stage or wait too long, and end up with what I call a “Show me the money!” dog. The dog will not perform unless she can see the treat.

Next week: how to use positive reinforcement to stop a behavior. (Think that doesn’t make sense? Good! You’re paying attention.)

“It’s poetry in motion. She turned her tender eyes to me. As deep as any ocean. As sweet as any harmony.” – Thomas Dolby

As I mentioned earlier, a big attraction to dog training for me was the science. A desire to understand how things work led me to my job in the Army (radar repair), my first civilian career (industrial equipment repair) and ultimately my current day job (computer programming.) Discovering how dog training works — or more accurately how animals learn — set the hook for my new career.

As I stood in puppy class with Caffeine and the trainer showed us how to lure a sit, a new world literally opened up to me. No forcing, no pulling, no yelling. Show her what you want, get it, reward it.

You can spend a lot of time analyzing dog-dog relationships and dog-human relationships. You can spend hours more arguing over different tools, different techniques, and different models for describing how and why dogs do what they do and who they do it to. You could even create the field of “dog psychology” from whole cloth and get yourself a TV show. But at the end of the day:

1. If you want your dog to do something, make it work for them.
2. If you want your dog to stop doing something, make it not work for them any more.
3. There is no number three. It’s just that simple.

If this sounds oversimplified that’s because it is — but it’s an oversimplification you can do a lot with.

Operant conditioning describes how voluntary behavior is effected by its consequences. When we are teaching our dogs new behaviors or trying to eliminate others, we are employing operant conditioning. (When we are dealing with emotional responses and behaviors that are not entirely voluntary it’s a different story and a different blog post.)

1. When a behavior is reinforced the consequence is something that makes it happen more often.
2. When a behavior is punished the consequence is something that makes it happen less often.

The term "punished" in the second rule is the source of a lot of confusion. In operant terminology "punish" means reducing the frequency of a behavior. Punishment does not have to be painful or frightening. "Punish" was not the best choice of words, but B.F. Skinner wasn’t thinking about dog trainers and their clients when he picked it.

Alas, the poor word choice didn’t stop there. When describing how punishers and reinforcers are used, we refer to "positive" and "negative", further muddying the waters. Positive is adding something and negative is taking something away. This makes perfect sense right after fifth period algebra, but starts to get sticky later on when you have a leash, some treats in your pocket, and an unruly Border Collie mix to contend with.

• Positive Reinforcement – adding something to make a behavior happen more often.
• Negative Reinforcement – taking something away to make a behavior happen more often.
• Positive Punishment – adding something to make a behavior happen less often.
• Negative Punishment – taking something away to make a behavior happen less often.

Positive reinforcement makes intuitive sense: add something like a piece of chicken or a game of tug to make your dog come to you more often.

Positive punishment seems obvious too: add something like a leash pop or a well-timed reprimand to make a bad behavior happen less often.

Negative reinforcement…how do you take something away to make a behavior happen more frequently? Well, the thing you take away would have to be unpleasant, thereby improving things for the dog. Think about it. Generally not very nice since the unpleasant thing needs to be added first.

Negative punishment makes a lot of sense once you think it through. If the consequence of a behavior makes something good go away, that behavior should stop or at least happen less often. Think about a dog jumping up to take food from your hand and you moving your hand away.

I get confused too. These "four quadrants" are the source of a lot of pointless debate. Some of it is over which quadrants should be used, when, and why. Other debates are over which quadrant(s) are working in what situation. I find these debates maddening enough that I personally leaving the quadrants out of this post.

Before we move on, there’s one important thing I want you to look back at: "more often" and "less often". Reinforcers and punishers affect the frequency of a behavior. They do not necessarily "stop" a behavior or immediately make a behavior guaranteed.

Next week: how we actually use this science.

And since you asked:

Now go find that Gary Numan video. You know you want to.

Photo Credit: Extra Ketchup

Working for 25+ years in NYC, I’ve spent a fair amount of time in offices high up in skyscrapers. I don’t really think about it much except under two circumstances: when there’s a long wait for an elevator or when there are high winds.

Skyscrapers sway in the wind because as they get taller they loose rigidity. If they didn’t, the wind could eventually weaken the foundation and topple the building. Some of the older buildings, such as the Empire State, sway less because of the massive amounts of masonry that brace them from the wind, while newer bulldings, built with lighter, stronger, and cheaper materials, sway enough that people have complained of motion sickness.

At some point, depending on the foundation, the building materials, and the shape and size of the building there is the right amount of “give” for the specific circumstances. Too rigid, the building will fail. Too flexible and the building is unusable.

A Real Man recognizes that this “happy medium” needs to be found and maintained in his relationship with his dog.

(There’s that “R” word again. I think the post on that subject may be next week.)

Finding the right mixture of firm leadership and loving kindness (as the Dalai Lama puts it) really isn’t that hard. It’s really just a matter of deciding what you want and then finding the most effective way of communicating it to your dog, while creating an environment that makes it easy to succeed and hard to fail.

The key is deciding what you want, as opposed to what you do not want. As I explained when I discussed brains vs. brawn and stopping jumping up the shortest path to eliminating an unwanted behavior is often training what you want instead.

Let’s look at a practical application. Which list looks easier to implement?

1. Dogs are not allowed on the furniture.
2. Dogs will not jump on guests.
3. Dogs are not allowed to sleep in beds with people.
4. Dogs will not rush doors.

Or:

1. Dogs will rest or sleep on their beds during the day.
2. Dogs will sit politely for greetings or “Say Hi”
3. Dogs will sleep overnight in crates.
4. Dogs will wait nicely at doors.

Would you rather strictly enforce a list of “don’ts” or firmly insist on a list of “dos”? This is, of course, the essence of using positive reinforcement to get the results you desire. Rather than punishing away the things you don’t want, you figure out what you do want and reward them so they occur more frequently.

One of the most persistent dog training tropes I see and hear is the stereotype of the overly permissive “treat trainer” that never disciplines his dog and is constantly using food as a “bribe.” Nothing could be further from the truth. A trainer that understands how to use treats for training is using them judiciously to reward what he wants while manipulating the environment to reduce the frequency of what he does not want.

It’s not permissiveness. It’s benevolent dictatorship.

Photo Credit: Bamshad at Flickr.

Remember, You're my number one guy!

“A great leader’s courage to fulfill his vision comes from passion, not position.” – John Maxwell

I got off on a bit of rant last week and spent more time talking about what leadership isn’t than I really wanted to. I considered redoing the whole piece, but then decided to go ahead and post and see if it would spark any discussion. It did, and I think a quote from Dino Dogan fits here:

In one person’s mind the term “pack leader” is someone who is able to extract the best effort out of the individual (dogs are people too ) and motivate that dog (or human) into productive cooperation and peaceful equilibrium

That’s a great definition for leader. Dino’s point is sometimes we’re just arguing over the meanings of words, and it is a point worth considering.

Leadership is a very important concept for me. I left home a snot-nosed brat at 18 and learned about leadership in the Army. Most of the examples I saw were good ones, but there were enough bad ones that I got a pretty well-rounded education. It was easy to be a lousy leader when you could fall back on the role your uniform gave you.

Rather than give you a list of what makes a good leader or what I think leadership is, I’m going to two very important aspects of a leader.

Responsibility

A leader accepts responsibility. He doesn’t blame others. He doesn’t label the problem (and in so doing, tacitly accept it.) He doesn’t fall back on coercion and claim that the subject of his force “chose” to go that route.

A leader accepts and understands his (or her) responsibility for the situation. Labeling a dog “dominant” or even “hyperactive” is not accepting responsibility. The dog isn’t pulling on leash because he’s dominant. He pulling because you haven’t trained him yet. The dog isn’t chewing the wallpaper off your walls because she’s hyperactive. She’s doing it because you didn’t exercise her adequately.

To borrow from Edie Jarolim: suck it up.

Confidence

After accepting responsibility for your actions and your lack of action, proceed with the confidence of a leader.

“a feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s own abilities or qualities” – New Oxford American Dictionary

A leader has a reasonable amount of confidence in himself and his skills. He doesn’t need to constantly check on himself and he certainly doesn’t feel obligated to constantly remind those around him that he is in charge. He’s got a job to do and he feels confident just doing it.

This can be a tough line to walk when dealing with people. Just past confidence, right there on the same block, are arrogance and hubris. But when it comes to being a leader for your dogs, it’s really not that hard. You already control all the resources in the house: you’re the one with the thumbs. Stop worrying about who’s the “pack leader” and just lead.

If someone can just display these two qualities, he’s a leader. It’s really that simple.

Beloved Pack Leader

“People ask the difference between a leader and a boss. The leader leads, and the boss drives.” — Theodore Roosevelt

Let’s get this off the table right up front: all that “pack leader,” “alpha,” “dominant” stuff you keep hearing? It’s a load of crap that has been disputed in scientific circles for many years now. (I could provide many more links…but why bother? The people still pushing this silly idea don’t care about science, so the question is, do you?)

Some would have us believe there is some sort of undisputed “pack leader” that maintains control of all of the good stuff – food, beds, preferred seating, first out the door etc. The “pack leader” establishes this by consistently taking control of said things.

This just doesn’t exist in nature with wolves. Packs are family units and if you don’t like the status quo, you don’t try to commandeer the good stuff: you leave and start your own pack. (In captivity wolves do struggle for priority access to resources but this is, by its very nature, an unnatural situation.) This book, Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation, has discussions on true pack dynamics based on actual observations of how wolves act in nature. (Fancy that!) The book’s editor can be seen here in an oft-cited discussion talking about the “alpha wolf” and how he used the term when he knew a lot less about wolves than he does now.

That’s how science works: it changes as we learn more. Real men work the same way. They don’t go back and watch reruns of the Dog Whisperer or desperately cling to headlines and youtube videos to confirm their preconceived notions. They learn and grow.

But more important than any aspect of wolf behavior is a much more salient fact: Dogs are not wolves!

When it comes to behavior, this kind of comparison between a domesticated species and an undomesticated one, no matter how close they are genetically, is just not relevant. Dogs are domesticated: wolves are not. The most significant difference between domesticated and undomesticated species is behavioral, and using one species as a guide on how to relate to the other is just plain stupid.

A dog with anything even close to proper socialization will actively seek attention from humans. A carefully hand-raised wolf will tolerate a human’s presence, and is still considered dangerous. Why on earth would someone use wolf behavior (however inaccurately understood) as a guide to train dogs?

(As a matter of fact, maybe someone should pin a hand-raised wolf to the ground to show him who’s boss, and let us know how it works out. What’s good for the goose….)

Left to their own devices dogs tend to travel alone or in very loosely structured packs. Ray Coppinger wrote extensively about this in his book. Luigi Boitani (co-editor of the book on wolves above) et. al observed some free ranging dogs for a long period of time and observed that they tended toward being solitary with sporadic groups of 2 or 3. They also still gravitated toward humans when they could. (Because they are domesticated!) He also cites about a half dozen other papers when he makes these observations. In terms of territory and control of resources he describes the dogs as being very flexible and able to adapt to specific situations. There is no innate desire for a leader or anything resembling the rigid structure many describe – dogs do what works in their specific circumstances. (The Behavioural Biology of Dogs)

It’s anthropomorphism that keeps this myth going, plain and simple. People go in with a preconceived notion, fueled by a common myth and a very primate-driven idea of how they see the world, and then pick out the parts that validate their theory. It’s a very human thing to do.

Of course by establishing yourself as your own tinpot dictator, you will see better behavior than if you have no rules at all. Any sort of consistency, regardless of why you are doing it, is better than none.

So, other than being based on a bunch of poppycock, what’s wrong with pack theory?

For one thing, it makes you worry about and do dumb things. Spitting in food, correcting growling (and creating a biter), fretting over who eats first, obsessing over who goes through doors first…all distractions from the real problems at hand. “Pack theory” is what leads people to label problems rather than actually fixing them.

It’s also often associated with heavy amounts of punishment. Many proponents try to equivocate on this, but as the law of the instrument tells us, when the world looks like a pack to be dominated — one will try to dominate it.

Before I close for the week, one more point on dominance. There is a proper definition of dominance, but as Patricia McConnell laments in that link, the word has been alpha-rolled into near-uselessness. Pity.

Next week – what leadership really means.

(This was originally supposed to be the entry discussing “picking your battles” from the list I first put forth in Real Men #3 About halfway in it turned into a discussion on leadership, and I’m not done yet…)

I used to practice Aikido. It’s something I hope I can get back to, if I ever recover from my current knee issues. I first started at the venerable NY Aikikai in Chelsea, taking the early morning classes. Some of my fondest memories were formed there: the practice of Aikido (some call it play) is amazing – one leaves a good session feeling refreshed and centered.

I’ve been called many things by many people, but “small” has never been one of them. I was in much better shape than I am now, but I was still a pretty imposing figure. Still, I spent my early mornings get tossed around like a rag doll by housewives and college girls.

Aikido is the creation of Morihei Ueshiba, also known as “O Sensei” (great teacher.) Ueshiba spent a lifetime refining jujutsu and religious philosophy into a devastatingly effective martial art that any person — regardless of size or strength — can use to redirect an opponent’s attacks and safely — even gently — subdue or immobilize him. The goal is to find physical and ultimately emotional harmony with your opponent.

It’s brains over brawn.

Recent research places an adult dog’s cognitive ability somewhere in the neighborhood of a toddler’s. There’s been other research showing that dogs and toddlers often make the same cognitive mistakes (Mistakes that wolves do not make.) While we are slowly finding that animals are much more intelligent than many believed and have deeper emotional lives than we previously thought, we are still well ahead of dogs in terms of planning and problem solving.

Dogs are creatures of impulse and habit. Real Men are not, or at least we are not supposed to be. Why on earth would a Real Man want to get himself embroiled in some kind of a silly imbroglio over who walks through a doorway first or gets a hug?

A Real Man applies his brain to the problem of getting the behavior from his dog that he wants (and needs) for a harmonious home. A a result he gets what he wants quickly, with little resistance, and without the risk of damaging his relationship with his dog.

(Yes. I used the “R” word there, guys. More on that in a future post.)

What do you do with a dog that jumps up to greet people? Brawn says push the dog off, squeeze front paws, step on back paws, or knee the dog in the chest. Techniques that — if delivered with enough force — can certainly work. But a Real Man says that they all risk creating a negative association with people and prefers removing the reason for jumping when it happens (people move away as a response) and training an alternative greeting (politely sitting or sniffing a hand.)

How about a dog that pulls on leash? Brawn gets a collar that restricts the airway and/or pinches the neck while making walking on leash not just a struggle, but emblematic of “who’s in charge.” The Real Man removes the reward for pulling (forward progress stops) and rewards walking nicely.

The goal of many modern martial arts is personal growth. (Let’s face it — most people, especially those with the disposable income required to join a dojo, aren’t worried about getting into a fistfight any time soon.) Aikido is a Budō; a “way to enlightenment.”

Can communicating with another species be a path to enlightenment?

Rather than working on establishing dominance over another species, dog training can be about creating harmony. It requires more brains than brawn, but it’s worth it.

A Real Man is willing to make a deal and pay a decent wage.

Some people have a real problem about training with food.

When I say a real problem, I mean a real problem. To read some of the stuff I have seen online and hear what I have heard in person, I half expect “training dogs with treats” to show up on National Geographic Channel’s Taboo series. (Another fine example of the high-quality programming that disgraces the name of the once great National Geographic Society.)

Tradition has it that dogs should “want to please,” work for us out of “loyalty,” or magically find “good boy” and a pat on the head inherently rewarding. And this tradition can seem pretty reasonable and effective at times. Many dogs are remarkably biddable and will do a lot for a pat on the head, or more accurately, because they find many of the things we want them to do inherently reinforcing.

Let me oversimplify things for a moment:

Organisms do things because they are reinforcing — they are rewarding. (They do things for other reasons, but I am oversimplifying here.) Some things are inherently reinforcing: food, water, and sex, are examples of inherent or primary reinforcers. Other things are conditioned or secondary reinforcers: money, toys, and clickers.

One thing that frequently confuses people is the difference between a reinforcer and a bribe. A bi-weekly paycheck deposited to your bank is not a bribe, it’s a reinforcer. In return for you doing your job, you are paid. If your boss was waiting for you in the office every morning and waved 10% of your paycheck in front of you, it would cheapen your relationship. You would be insulted. It would feel like a bribe.

We use food to make a similar arrangement with our dogs. By using food we communicate with them about the behaviors we want them to learn and then do for us. If we are doing it right, it is a reinforcer — a reward — and never a bribe.

Does this diminish our relationship with our dogs? Not unless you look down on everyone that you interact with. Does paying your doctor make you respect him less? Does your boss look down on you because you work for money? (If so, are you looking for another job yet?) Are your transactions with your barber, landscaper, and mechanic, somehow diminished when money changes hands? Of course not. A real man is willing to pony up with honest pay for honest work.

Of course money isn’t the only reinforcer for us. Your friends are your friends because you find each other’s company reinforcing. You read the books you do because they are reinforcing. You watch the movies you watch because they are reinforcing. Naturally, what you find reinforcing may not be what I do. I might not like your friends, enjoy books, or want to go see Twilight with you. Real men understand the differences between what motivates one person or another.

Food isn’t the only reinforcer for dogs either. The main reason trainers use food is because it is a primary reinforcer. If you need a portable, easy to find, and easy to handle (for the most part) reinforcer that 8 new dogs in a new class will respond to, food is the first item on the list. Food is the “greatest common denominator” of reinforcers. A good trainer will show you how to use other reinforcers (play is a favorite of mine) early on in the training process and keep reminding you to slip it in when possible.

So what about that praise and pat on the head? Shouldn’t it be enough? Are they primary reinforcers? Not in any book I have read. A well-socialized and behaviorally sound dog generally enjoys being around people and will respond positively to attention, but that does not mean that a pat on the head is automatically reinforcing. As a matter of fact, some dogs don’t even want to be touched when they are working.

We use food to introduce a new behavior to a dog. We can’t explain to dogs why we want them to lie on their mats when the doorbell rings with human language. Later on we only reward them for doing so periodically because they don’t need to be paid every time, but expecting them to do it for free every time isn’t fair either. Honest pay for honest work.

We use food to get our dogs to climb the A-frame in agility. Later on they might do it because it is fun. It’s up to them to decide.

A real man is willing to make this kind of deal with his dog: do what I ask and you will be rewarded. He doesn’t expect a dog, or any other creature, to do anything for him out of blind devotion, nor is he willing to constantly bribe, cajole and entice. Somewhere there is a happy medium and he is willing to meet others halfway.

It's all her fault.

Trainers frequently talk about that dog. The dog that made them want to be a trainer. For me that dog is Caffeine.

It wasn’t just a matter of having a dog that was challenging or even uniquely difficult. (Even though I am often heard saying that John Grogan didn’t know how easy he had it, Caffeine was no Marley.) I had to have a dog that behaved badly and was very trainable at the same time.

A common mistake people make when training their dogs is raising their criteria too quickly. For example, they get their dog to lie down a few times by luring her to the floor with a treat, and then immediately expect her to do it again with no luring at all. The dog becomes frustrated and gives up. The “game” isn’t any fun if there’s no chance to get rewarded. A completely out of control dog would have been the same way for me – endless frustration instead of a challenge.

Caffeine kept me engaged. Very quickly, training her become reinforcing in and of itself. She was learning and I was learning.

Which is where St. Hubert’s comes in.

St. Hubert’s Dog Training School is a community or, as Seth Godin would say, a Tribe. The school is part of St. Hubert’s Animal Welfare Center a non-profit organization that’s an even greater community itself – involved in animal control, human education, pet adoptions, therapy animals and too much more to list.

From the moment we arrived there I had the feeling of joining a group of people that shared a common interest. Moreover these people were good. Taking classes there and seeing people perform the craft of dog training, combined with seeing immediate results with Caffeine, eventually made me want to become a trainer. The instructors knew what they doing and more important (in my opinion) they knew how to teach it to others.

I remember two “a-ha” moments in one of the first 8 week classes we took there.

The first was while working on a basic exercise – I can’t even say which one. The people and dogs were practicing while the instructor was coaching us one-on-one. While we were working I tried to pet Caffeine on the head. She pulled away and I looked shocked. The instructor, who I later learned is noted for her rather direct communication style, came over to me.

“Why did you try to pet her?”

“Uh. Because she’s doing a good job.”

“She doesn’t want to be pet! She wants to work. Work with her!”

As obvious as it seems, someone had to tell me that what Caffeine wanted or found reinforcing wasn’t always what I expected. Although I had already grasped the ideas behind lure/reward training and positive reinforcement, this quick glimpse into what the dog was thinking had a huge impact.

The second moment was while practicing the recall. During a practice run Caffeine started to veer off toward another dog. I instinctively said “eh!” to try to bring her focus back to me, and it worked. The instructor cited my good timing. Here again, a small lesson opened up the art of training to me.

After this class I became more mindful and starting to truly experience and enjoy the feeling when you and your dog really “connect.” There’s a moment when you are working with a dog when you feel that connection. I really can’t describe it. You’ll know it when it happens.

I still love that feeling — and I love that part of my job is creating it with a different dog almost every day.

It wasn’t all strawberries and cream though. I was a pretty crappy handler for a long time and Caffeine could still be a right pain in the ass. My wife and I had to make the 45+ minute drive to the school early so we could walk her for an hour or so before class to take the edge off. If we fed her before class she was too easily distracted and if we didn’t she was too obsessed with the food to focus. I could be very impatient with no concept of how to carefully raise criteria. (I’m still a bit impatient and need to constantly check myself.)

The title of this series is “The Real Man’s Guide to Dog Training.” Time to start fulfilling what that title promises. Here are some of the things I learned in my time working with Caffeine.

A Real Man knows how to pick his battles, and is aware that more often than not he’s not at war in the first place. A relationship characterized by a struggle for superiority is a crappy relationship.

A Real Man knows that brains solve more problems than brawn. Dogs are largely creatures of action and habit. Humans, (at least the successful ones) are not. A Real Man is able to take advantage of his ability to think like a man, rather than trying to act like a dog (or a mythical wolf.)

A Real Man knows how to be firm without being rigid and how to be forgiving without being permissive. Rewarding good behavior is not the same as appeasement or “spoiling.”

A Real Man is willing to make a deal and pay a decent wage.

Next time I’ll start to go over these rules.

Puppy Caffeine is so innocent. Not.

We got to the grooming salon (where the rescue was going to introduce us to their two remaining puppies) a little early. I had rushed home from work, picked up Dagmar and Christian, and driven us down Route 17 to Lyndhurst without any dinner or even a cup of coffee. So when we saw the salon was closed I drove over to a nearby Dunkin’ Donuts for coffee for the adults, a hot chocolate for Chris, and a few donuts.

When we returned they were unloading the puppies from their car. We rushed to follow them into the building. (Puppies!!!) I absentmindedly left our empty Dunkin’ bag on a low windowsill right inside the door when I couldn’t find a trash can. We spoke to the rescue people while we watched the as-yet-unnamed puppies play. We had adopted Sally some eight or nine years earlier, so we needed some help with ins and outs of the adoption process.

At some point I heard a strange sound, turned, and looked: the Dunkin’ Donuts bag had been completely shredded, and a triumphant female puppy was scanning the debris for anything edible.

“You should name her Caffeine” I quipped.

We went home without a puppy, but within a few days we decided we wanted to bring the female home. I called the rescue.

“Hi, my name is Eric? We looked at two puppies earlier in the week and are interested in the fe—”

“Caffeine? Sure, she’s still here. When do you want to pick her up?”

The name had already stuck. (And they knew we’d be back.)

Just about any trainer will tell you that the most difficult combination you can have in a puppy is high intelligence and high energy. Well, as much as I hate an overused metaphor, Caffeine was a perfect storm of nuclear fission and rapid data acquisition.

Very soon after she survived the parvovirus scare we signed up for puppy kindergarten at the nearby PetsMart. At this point PetsMart was still using lure-reward training, and this style of training was completely new to me.

My exposure to dog training had been very long ago as a kid, and more recently the aforementioned (now rather cranky) guy on PBS. I had not encountered using treats before, but from the moment I saw a puppy being lured into a sit with a treat over his head I thought “Oh! Duh.” It seemed so effortless and the use of a positive reward marker struck my technological/science fancy.

Rather than being the “crutch” that so many condescending “old school” trainers called them, the treats, combined with the marker, became a way to truly communicate with another species! Over a decade earlier, while still in the Army, I had been drawn to computers by the challenge of translating problems in computer language. Now here was the ultimate hacking – translating what we want into something a non-human can understand!

I soon found myself buying books like The Culture Clash by Jean Donaldson, The Other End of the Leash by Patricia McConnell and Don’t Shoot the Dog! by Karen Pryor. (There wasn’t a lot of information on the Internet back then.)

Caffeine did very well in kindergarten, but the class was, as puppy kindergarten should be, focused on getting her socialized and giving us a clue. It was obvious that this little hellion needed more training. The instructor had mentioned St. Hubert’s Dog Training School to us a few times.

The adventure was really about to begin.