I lost the love of my life on my birthday. I chose the day to sit by her side and say farewell. Although it felt like I had no choice. Zuri, my Rhodesian Ridgeback and keeper of my heart, was dying of cancer which had spread mercilessly to her lungs and abdomen. Every decision I had made up to this point was meant to prevent this. I was shocked to view the x-ray which looked like a patchwork of leopard spots over every part of her lungs. There was silence in the consult room as I stared at the results with my hand over my mouth. How was she not gasping for breath? The oncologist finally stepped forward and turned off the monitor light. I remember her voice coming from a distance saying, “That’s enough. It’s a depressing picture. She’s a very sick dog.” There was an urgency in choosing the time of her departure. An over-riding imperative to prevent the suffering that was imminent; A suffering that may be sudden. I did not want the final days and hours of her journey to be tainted by distress. So the fact that it was my birthday was immaterial to the decision. Yet it was also poignant.

Zuri left peacefully in her favourite place, surrounded by her favourite people, head cradled in my hands. And by some miracle, my heart kept beating. It wasn’t the same heart any more. There was a huge Zuri-shaped hole which had once been an overflowing of joy, love, companionship, contentment and endless gratitude. At times I was angry at this heart for continuing on as if everything was the same, for beating around a gaping chasm. How could it carry on when it was bleeding out from a mortal wound?

The task to continue some semblance of living with this defiant heart began. Living in a Zuri-less house was excruciating. For a quiet, easy-to-live with dog, she was conspicuous in her absence. There was no cure for the lack of rhythmic breathing by my side at night. Nor for the loss of enthusiastic greetings upon my return to an empty house. I was solo where once there had been a constant companion quietly by my side.

My grieving was purposeful and deliberate. It had to be. If I was not choreographing rituals and routines to remember my best friend, the grief was overwhelming. If I stopped and looked into the abyss that was my loss, it threatened to suck me into a dark vortex with scant chance of return.

Part of my grieving process included the strict proviso that such an amazing friend could not, would not, should not, must not be replaced until a suitable amount of time had elapsed. Out of respect to her memory.  And because she was irreplaceable.  I had no idea what the right amount of time was, but never didn’t seem too long to wait.

However, I wasn’t prepared for the inconsolable nature of the sadness. I compromised and visited puppies. They crawled on me, and licked me and suffocated me with puppy breath and unbridled exploratory joy. I heard myself vocalizing in their presence and realized I was laughing. There was no laughter in the empty house. Time stood still and heartache was held at bay during puppy therapy. So I took one home.

I was careful not to break the pact I’d made by fostering a puppy who needed some recuperation time after surgery. This was temporary and was not a replacement.  For seven weeks I welcomed Gidget, this amazingly resilient puppy, into the home. Despite two surgeries, her crazy joy filled the house and she recovered well. She disregarded the wall I had built to prevent emotional attachment and managed to creep in and create a little niche inside a part of my heart that wasn’t broken. There were times through tears that I looked at her charming face and apologized for my melancholy state, explaining that it wasn’t her that was making me sad. That she was precious but my heart was struggling with guilt over feeling happy when my soul mate was gone.

On Zuri’s birthday, eyes red and brimming, heart conflicted, I made the decision to return her for a week, hoping the absence would help with making a decision whether it was right to keep her permanently.

I wasn’t prepared for the new grief that ensued. I suspected that it was just the return of a silent, dogless house that precipitated a renewal of sadness. After a few days I realized my plan to wait a suitably respectful time before welcoming a dog into my life was not a good one. The hole Zuri left was too big. I realized that Gidget was not replacing  Zuri; she  had been helping me cope with the loss of my friend by easing the whirlwind of destructive emotions with an eddy of joyful puppyness. She was not taking away the grief or dishonouring Zuri’s memory but making her loss a little more bearable.  This little nutty little puppy that I wouldn’t have chosen had started a healing balm and I didn’t want her to leave. I realized all this too late and through an unexpected turn of events, she was gone and nothing could bring her back.

With a new urgency I needed to fill the painful void. That’s when I found more puppies. This time I resolved to welcome a permanent family member. I picked her while she was sleeping, not knowing if she was already promised to a home or not. She wasn’t.​

​I moved the bed to another position and within a day Willow was lying on it.

Scout, the six month old black Labrador puppy, came to stay for a while. Her integration into the household relied heavily on Zuri’s reaction to having a new housemate. I wrote about how Zuri’s behaviour changed when Turbo the foster greyhound came to stay. Turbo and Zuri just didn’t hit it off. No fights. No major stand offs. Zuri never relaxed during his stay. After nine weeks, they still had not played.

The minute Scout arrived, I set about choreographing daily life to give Zuri and Scout the best possible chance of getting along. Scout is a wiggly, in-yah-face, barky, playful ball of exuberance. At all hours. In all places. Zuri is calm, respectful of space and prefers to observe before making an acquaintance. Good Lordie, what was I thinking trying to bring these two together? I was counting on past experiences and knowing that Zuri does enjoy the company of other dogs – given the right circumstances. Once she feels confident (safe?), she plays with joyful gusto.

So our dance began:

* Baby gates.

* Closed doors.

* Separate feeding.

* Tethering Scout (whilst I was present) to prevent unwanted advances on Zuri.

* Occupying Scout with alternatives to accosting Zuri (treat dispensers, Treat and Train, carrots to chew, training sessions, car rides, shopping trips, one-on-one time).

* Routines, routines, routines. For example, when coming home with Scout, leaving her in the car while I greet Zuri first minus a bouncing puppy, then bringing Scout inside on lead.

* Avoiding situations where Scout-the-Ninja would come out of nowhere to an unsuspecting, sleepy Ridgeback (especially in hallways, doorways and any transition areas).

* Reinforcing for any pro-social behaviours Zuri showed around Scout e.g. looking at Scout, simply entering the room if Scout was already in there, coming outside if Scout was there, standing still if Scout began sniffing her. It was a most vigorous schedule of Differential Reinforcement of Other (DRO) behaviours, instead of avoidance and escape. It had no other outcome but to make hanging out with Scout a cool idea. Zuri even started coming out the back on Scout’s toilet stops.

* Reinforcing any ‘polite’ behaviours Scout showed towards Zuri e.g. looking at her briefly (instead of staring or nose bopping), coming away immediately when called, waiting patiently while Zuri was fed a treat before getting hers. Again, a really high rate of reinforcement for a wide variety of desired behaviours. This was also done on lead at first to prevent Scout practising unwanted behaviours and to protect Zuri, giving her no need to seek escape or take other action. The lead was removed when Scout became more reliable.

We had some accidents. Zuri was dive bombed by a Kamikaze puppy in the narrow, dark hallway when a door was opened. Zuri's sleep-in was rudely interrupted by a whirlwind of puppy playfulness bombarding the bed. I learnt from these incidents to be more careful with the ‘zones’ and to prevent incidents rather than go into damage control after the fact.

After eight days, no signs of reciprocal play were in sight. The longest it had taken Zuri to play with a new house guest in the past had been four days. I tried to think of all the things in the environment that may have been different with these other dogs compared to Scout (and Turbo). One difference was that the other houseguests, except for Turbo, had slept in their crate in our bedroom. Maybe a simple change in the environment, bringing Scout from the laundry into the bedroom to sleep, might have an effect. So I tried it. 

Did all this have any effect? On the 12th day, after four nights sleeping in the bedroom, Scout and Zuri broke into spontaneous play out in the front yard. Maybe it was just the extra time. Or maybe it was actually precipitated by the sleeping arrangement: Zuri being able to see, hear and smell Scout in a relaxed environment for a prolonged period with no chance of ambush. Was a positive association being made in a safe environment? Maybe it was the ample space out the front. Maybe it was a combination of any or all of these, or some I haven't even thought of.

I hadn’t planned the play and was simply teaching Scout on a long lead while Zuri was wandering around getting her random treats for being in the presence of the crazy black dog. I was ecstatic! Mutual play is an excellent sign that two dogs are going to get along. It must be mutual. Many dogs look like they are playing when in fact one is trying to escape or avoid the contact of an insistent partner. What was even more impressive was how beautifully Scout modified her play style to suit Zuri’s preference. It meant she was listening to Zuri’s signals and adjusting. Scout is a barker and a head banger: every time she barked or banged her nose into Zuri, Zuri turned away, looked away or paused. Scout soon realized that play was more continuous if she didn’t bark into Zuri’s face or bulldoze her. They both loved to chase and run, to play bitey-face with well controlled bite inhibition and to wrestle. They both took breaks and mirrored each other with a shake off. Scout was actually better at being recalled from play than Zuri. I must work on that!  Email subscribers can watch here.

The interesting thing was that Zuri would still not engage in play out the back or inside. There could be any number of reasons for this. I focused on continuing to create positive associations (especially in these areas), reinforcing for desired behaviours, keeping Scout sleeping in the bedroom and providing deliberate opportunities for play out the front once or twice a day. The next video shows that it was pretty tense in the lounge room initially.

On day 19 they broke out into play in the back yard. Only for a few seconds, yet my heart leapt. The breakthrough came later that day inside, when Scout’s play stares were answered with a play bow from Zuri and it was on. It was cautious at first, with Zuri looking at me often when Scout was getting too rough – which melted my heart because it seemed as if she was seeking my assistance. I helped settle things in a light-hearted way rather than by yelling or saying “no” – I wanted them to enjoy play, not superimpose the threat of anything aversive from me when they were playing. So I would pause the play with a recall or by distracting Scout with a butt scratch or by throwing a toy, or simply letting Zuri hide behind me until she was ready to resume. The whole experience needed to be as enjoyable and stress-free as possible. Email subscribers can watch here.

I set up opportunities for inside and outside play every day at times I knew would be most conducive. Not first thing in the morning. Scout is a morning puppy. Zuri likes a sleep-in. Each play session became less cautious and lasted longer. I still felt the need to supervise. Any play between dogs can be very arousing with the risk of tipping over into aggression. Scout gets very excited and sometimes doesn’t stop when Zuri tries to disengage. Since it was early days, I wanted to referee until they had more practice self-regulating. They even let me join in sometimes. How cool is that? Scout was back in the laundry after ten days of bedroom privileges. There was an added advantage to the time in the bedroom that transferred to the laundry. I’ll save that for the next blog.

All in all, I was overjoyed to witness them playing – even if the lounge looked like a pillow cannon had gone off! Compatible play bodes well for a more relaxed cohabitation in a two-dog household. Scout seemed calmer. She even chewed less. Zuri seemed less tense and was around more. It also meant that if I couldn't be bothered taking them for a walk, I could palm them off with, "Go play with your sister!"

It's funny ‘coz it’s true. Training (or conditioning) is something that occurs 24/7, whether one is aware of it or not. For this reason I incorporate training aims into the mundane, everyday tasks of life. I really enjoy doing this. Things like asking Zuri to wait at doorways, all doorways, before going out. Also waiting before jumping out of the car, eating food, or removing the lead to allow play. The reinforcement for waiting at all these times is gaining access to something she wants: the great outdoors, food, and play. When I could see this becoming problematic at times – it increased her arousal so that she didn’t pay any attention to me once released – I worked on teaching her to ‘check-in’ with me after being released, instead of just running off. You can see the ‘check-in' here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J24ycE8AFtU

I love applying the principles of behavioural science to training other species as well. Just for fun. Just because I enjoy interacting with animals. Take the resident Willie Wagtails. Over a few months I have taught them to come on cue: the signal being my outstretched finger or hand. Then I taught them to stay longer on my hand. They took me by surprise and even flew in to pose for a New Year’s Eve photo. However, I noticed that when I had dogs come to stay, the Willies were hesitant to come and land. This prompted me to teach them not to be so fearful of various dogs that came to visit whilst I was present. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that all this time spent playing with birds would have a most practical application. 

Scout, the assistance dog puppy, has come to stay. Wouldn’t you know it, she loves to chase moving objects. Birds definitely fit that category. Here’s the wonderful part. All the times the Willies and I have played together safely around strange dogs has culminated in them gaining a confidence to approach and land on my finger with dogs present. When I took Scout outside to do some training and the Willies flew in to visit, Scout was enthralled. She lunged after them with gusto. The Willies were unperturbed and still flew near and tried to land on my hand. I immediately changed my training plan and decided to teach Scout a new task: not to chase the birds. To do this I needed to give her something else to do which paid off big time. Scout practised her new behaviour of sitting watching instead of chasing them no matter what they did. Since the Willies came and stayed on cue, I could use them as distractions in a very controlled and  safe way. It worked beautifully within seconds. I had the presence of mind to run inside and grab the video camera. Who  knows when an opportunity like this may come again? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iVE9k2f83T4

The moral of the story? The meme about wasting time training has so many more applications than we first imagine. I use it with Zuri in everyday life because it makes our life together more harmonious. I extended it to spending immensely enjoyable time with my backyard friends and enhancing my training skills on wild animals who could leave at any time. The fact that I was then able to use this history of conditioning to help teach Scout impulse control was an added and unexpected bonus. Definitely none of it time wasted.

A common complaint that comes up with puppies who are first learning to walk on lead is that they bite, chew and tug the lead as soon as it is put on. It’s not a problem limited to puppies either. Many full grown dogs have the same habit. Some people get around the problem by using a metal chain that’s not pleasant to chew. Or by spraying something nasty tasting onto the lead. Or by punishing the behaviour with a leash jerk, a choke with a choker collar or a raised voice. I like to approach the problem by first assessing when and why this behaviour might occur.

Reasons may include that:

* it’s reinforcing. Puppies explore with their mouths and many leads seems to feel good to chew. The attention a dog gets when they start chewing may also be reinforcing: the dog gets looked at, spoken too, touched to the point that trying to retrieve the lead from his mouth becomes a super-fun game of tug. If it wasn’t reinforcing, a dog wouldn’t continue to do it.

* it’s due to frustration. It may be a displacement or replacement behaviour. If a dog cannot access something they want, they may turn on the lead which is restricting them and chew in response.

* it’s a response to something a dog wishes to escape or avoid. They may desperately chew on the lead that is preventing escape.

I choose to introduce a behaviour that replaces the biting and pays off more. If the reason is due to frustration, I provide an alternative behaviour in conjunction with teaching the dog some impulse control in an environment in which he can succeed. It is not effective or efficient to attempt teaching a dog who is already frustrated. For fearful dogs I avoid putting them in the situations that trigger the escape/avoidance response whilst working on helping them overcome the fears in a controlled and safe environment.

My ethos is that training should enhance the relationship between the dog and guardian. For this reason, I avoid punishment-based techniques to stop the behaviour after it has already occurred. Punishment has side effects. The type and intensity of the fallout becomes evident only after the damage has been done. Further, it is generally much harder to reverse than it is to cause. I value the human-dog relationship too much to risk gambling with such consequences.
 
I label many training tasks as games. I do this deliberately because games should be;

a) mutually enjoyable,
b) a vehicle for building positive relationships, and
c) a fun way to learn practical skills.

When has playing games been boring or time wasted with friends? Of course, each individual must enjoy the actual game chosen. It's not truly relationship building if only one party is enjoying it. So it should be with our dogs. I add another proviso; games with our dogs should be win-win. There is no loser when teaching your dog in this way. You will choose to teach your dog skills which will be beneficial and your dog will be reinforced with something he values and enjoys. A relationship of trust is another wonderful outcome.

The “Don’t Chew The Lead Game” and “Drop The Slack Lead Game” are two of my favourite ways to prevent lead chewing and tugging. The emphasis is on prevention by setting the dog up for successfully choosing an alternative behaviour before he bites. If he gets distracted and starts chewing, the “Drop The Lead Game” then gives an alternative behaviour rather than continuing to chew or tug. No force is required and no raised voice.

Here’s some handy extra hints:

* If your dog starts chewing as soon as the lead is clipped on (or before), start the game earlier. Simply show your dog the lead and reinforce for the behaviour of staying still, sitting or just looking at the lead rather than jumping up to bite it. Only clip the lead on when you know your dog won’t bite it. If your dog won't give you an alternative behaviour when you are showing the lead, problem solve why this might be. 
Is he looking for one second before jumping? Anticipate this and work on your timing. Click that look and get the treat to his mouth before he can leave the ground. 
Is the lead too close to him? Hold it higher. 
Does movement make him jump? Hold the lead still. 
Is he grabbing the end of a dangling lead? Fold the lead up and show him, so there are no dangly bits.

* Deliver food directly into your dog’s mouth or onto the ground as this will prevent your dog jumping up. This helps prevent jumping to get the lead as well.

* Avoid letting your dog chew the lead at other times. Avoid putting him in situations where he does chew to get quicker and more robust results.

Here’s a video showing how I approached teaching Yoda the kelpie and Abby the labrador not to chew and tug the lead.

Yoda and Abby simply found chewing and tugging reinforcing. The principles are the same for every dog, but the process itself may need to be modified slightly for each individual. This may include how quickly you progress through the stages or how small you have to break down each increase when raising difficulty.

I hope this helps you in devising a plan for preventing this behaviour. Most of all, I hope this increases the fun-factor for you and your dog.

My heart hurts. I just read the advice given to the guardian of an 8 week old puppy in order to stop the puppy biting them.  It goes a lot like this, {with what I thought in italic brackets}:

If your puppy snaps after being tapped on the nose or told off another way;

1.  grab the puppy firmly by the throat {I'm over the advice already}
2.  roll the puppy onto his/her back back and hold down
3.  don't choke be firm {restrain without strangling or causing death - glad this was clarified}
4.  growl "NO!" and keep holding down {puppy is now noting, "when I am 40kg, you're gunna remember this day and regret it"}
5.  do this until the pup urinates - a submissive sign {this brings a tear to my eye, I can't be sarcastic, it's just too darn sad}

You must do this before they become strong enough to break your hold or you will never be the alpha dog/bitch in your household. {Or join the wrestling club and perfect your holds}

There is so much detrimental and dangerous information in this well meaning advice from a veteran of the dog world. The person giving the advice loves and cares about dogs. It's given with the best of intentions. However, simply loving dogs and having good intentions does not replace research and keeping up-to-date with the most recent discoveries about dog behaviour. As the saying goes, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." Anecdotal advice about something "working with my dog" or even "working with all 20 dogs I've had" does not make it gospel.  Certainly doesn't make it scientific. Definitely doesn't qualify it as being ethical.

For a start, if your puppy bites after being tapped on the nose, STOP TAPPING YOUR PUPPY ON THE NOSE.  It's called provocation.  What has just happened is, a small amplitude punishment has been given for some misdemeanour.  This tap is simply annoying to the puppy and redirects the puppy to the source of annoyance - your hands. It causes the bigger problem behaviour of biting in response to the tap. So now, the amplitude of the punishment needs to be increased to get an effect and stop the biting. A vicious and dangerous cycle is developing. One of the side effects of punishment is that it can easily and almost seamlessly morph into abuse. As the advisor points out, don't try this on a big dog - you simply won't have the physical strength and may risk severe injury to you or the dog.

If the puppy can't get away, urination in appeasement and out of downright fear may occur. Ever heard the term, "you scared the piss out of me"? It comes from what actually happens in real life when one is faced with a fearful situation: If someone points a gun at you, for example, it's not uncommon to urinate as a reaction to the fear. This is essentially caused by an overloaded nervous system. Your body goes into fight or flight mode, and it needs to prepare so many different things at once that it can't handle them all, and the area of your brain that controls urination essentially fails.

This happens in scared dogs as well. It's involuntary, not deliberate. It's a melt down. It's often described as an appeasement signal, meaning the dog is anxious or feeling threatened and urinates as a signal to say "please don't hurt me." This urination generally occurs in dogs who are shy or timid; the opposite of what many would label dominant.

My advice when seeking training advice; if you have even one second of cringing, wondering if something is the right thing to do, or might be over the top or harmful, if your gut says "I don't like this" - follow your gut. 

Oh, and don't put your puppy in a full nelson for biting. Fullstop.