The Unexpected Benefits of Advocating for Riley

The Unexpected Benefits of Advocating for Riley

Learning to advocate for Riley has been one of the most challenging and rewarding parts of our relationship.

I’ve learned to say, “No,” firmly, unapologetically, and not back down.

I’ve learned to step away and create space even when it is awkward or uncomfortable.

I’ve learned to step in front of her and be a physical barrier to potential threats to her safety – physical, mental, and emotional.

I have learned to set boundaries for her, for myself, and for other people.

And all of this practice advocating for and protecting her while giving her space and time to grow and increase her threshold for different stressors has taught me to do the same for myself.

Learning to recognize and honor her needs – not as a vague or generic thing, but as a fluid, situational reality; paying attention to what she is telling me with her body, her eyes, her voice; has taught me to be aware of and honor my needs, to recognize when I need space and when I need engagement.

Tonight, Riley and I were walking around the apartment complex. It was a hot day and it was almost 10pm before it cooled off enough to safely walk her.

On the walk we encountered a couple young mothers walking with their children. One child was on a scooter with interesting reflective lights and the other was a toddler who was pounding on car bumpers and running up to everything.

Riley was on high alert, first from the scooter and then the squealing toddler pounding on things. She has not had much exposure to children and they make her nervous, as do loud sounds and unexpected movements. All of which were coming at us as the mothers approached us.

I saw her body language. Hackles rising, body tensing, chest puffing out, but scared eyes. So I actively led her in a different direction and allowed her to move quickly. Showing her it was okay to create space and also providing an outlet for the adrenaline she was feeling.

Even with that the toddler saw her and started running, unbalanced and wild, right for us. I had one choice because of where we were. I put her in a sit, and stepped in front of her. I said, very clearly, firmly, and kindly, “No. She is afraid of children.”

The mother came to get her child and apologized for letting him run up to us.

I told her it was fine, and Riley and I did a short little jog to burn off that energy that had built up.

I’ve learned that in situations like that even if stillness is briefly required, movement and speed help change her mindset and get her back to a state of calm curiosity and engagement.

I was proud of her. She stayed focused on me, even with the tension. She sat and didn’t budge, lunge, growl, or react. She did well.

But, I didn’t like it.

And I want you to hear this.

I did not like telling a mother that my dog doesn’t like children. It doesn’t make me happy that kids scare her and that she’s not the kind of dog a toddler could randomly run up to.

I would love it if she were that happy-go-lucky dog that didn’t see an off-balance, unpredictable, high-energy, tiny human as a threat; but that’s not my reality. And it’s my responsibility, and my honor, to advocate for the dog I have not the dog I wish I had.

That’s not saying I wish I had any dog other than Riley, but there are things I wish were different, easier. And there’s nothing wrong with that – so long as my wishing doesn’t make me put her in situations where she feels threatened or unsafe. As long as my wishing, doesn’t make me push her too far, too fast when we’re working on something new; or blind me to what she’s clearly trying to communicate to me.

When I adopted Riley, I was incapable of really advocating for her and I definitely didn’t know how to establish my own boundaries and advocate for myself. But because she is the dog she is, I have learned this valuable lesson that has impacted every area of my life and I am grateful that I had to learn it. Grateful that I get to practice it regularly. Grateful that today, because I’ve learned to stand up for my dog, I can say “No,” without guilt or shame, and without rehearsing it for days, weeks, or months afterward.

Yes, I used to be that person.

The person who felt so bad about saying, “No,” that I would tremble and shake, and think about it even after I had done it. Before Riley, advocating for myself was something I could only do from a place of anger, blowing up after not establishing boundaries for myself that I desperately needed.

Here’s an example:

I used to hate making noise. It terrified me. This included making noise for safety purposes, such as honking the horn on my car.

One day I was driving down the road, getting ready to get on the freeway. It was rush hour and the road I was on was very busy.

Suddenly, the driver of the pick-up truck beside me decided to pull into my lane. He almost ran me off the road and I, for maybe the 2^nd time in my driving life, honked my horn.

Every time I drove past that onramp for the next three or four YEARS, I thought about it, and felt anxious and nervous. I wondered if it had startled them, if it had made them uncomfortable. I wondered if they thought about me honking at them whenever they went by the onramp like I did.

I didn’t get over that feeling; that sense of dread and shame and guilt for honking my horn, even though it was a serious situation, until I adopted Riley and started advocating for her.

She is the reason I understand that sometimes you have to make noise to protect yourself, your loved ones, and others. Sometimes you have to do uncomfortable and unpleasant things to establish boundaries and ensure safety. Whether that’s honking a horn or saying, “My dog’s afraid of kids.” It’s good and okay and appropriate to advocate, to set boundaries, to be aware of your limits and your dog’s limits, and navigate through them together.

I’m grateful Riley hasn’t been an easy dog. I’m grateful for the challenges and the things I’ve had to learn to make our life together work. I’m grateful for all the things I’ve learned and continue to learn every day – and for the freedom we both gain because I actively put that learning into practice.

Let me give you another example:

I was doing some training work outside my local Trader Joe’s with Riley. It was early in the morning, but the store was open. We were working on calmly navigating a busy parking lot while maintaining a heel and not getting freaked out by cars, carts, or people.

As we got close to the entrance to the story a lady came out with her little dog in her arms.

Riley’s a hunting dog. Particularly, a dog that trees prey. So a little squirmy dog held up in the arms of its owner can really wind her up.

I felt her body tense. I saw her face go from relaxed to prey drive. I could see that she was losing focus on me. I couldn’t move forward because the lady was coming toward us. I couldn’t go backward because there was a car backing out.

The woman was in a huff and she assumed that I was there to take Riley into the store, so she starts saying, very loudly, “They just told me I had to take my dog to my car. She’s not welcome in the store.”

I hoped that would be the end of it and she would just go on her way. I wanted to just move forward, and this was before I’d discovered the power of movement and speed in helping Riley work through tense situations.

Instead, she came right towards us.

Riley was barking at this point, and it was work getting her to calm down. All she could see was this woman walking towards us quickly with a whining dog wrapped in a blanket, squirming around. The woman was indignant about what had happened in the store and I think she wanted me to commiserate with her but I had one concern, and only one, Riley.

The woman was oblivious to the work it was taking to keep her behind me.

I said, “Please stop approaching.”

She kept talking and coming closer.

So, I squared my shoulders, got Riley in a sit, stepped in front of her, looked the woman in the eyes, and very loudly and firmly said, “Ma’am, please stop approaching us with your dog.”

She was taken aback and turned around and went to her car in a huff.

Here was what blew my mind, Riley and I just continued on our way. I didn’t feel bad or guilty. It was almost an hour later when I realized what I had done and that I hadn’t even thought about it once since it happened. And, when I did think about it, it was in a positive way. There was no guilt, no shame, no worrying about hurt feelings.

I had not been rude. I was kind but firm. I did the right thing, and I knew it. This was the moment I knew all my practice had paid off. The moment I knew that something fundamental in my heart and identity had changed.

Yes, I said practice. Lots and lots of practice.

I practiced saying, “No” out loud. I practiced stopping and stepping in front of Riley, having her sit, and saying, “No, you can’t pet my dog.” I practiced in the apartment and on walks – with no one anywhere around. I even practiced without Riley so I could get used to the pattern.

I don’t think we talk enough about the importance of advocating for our dogs; of learning what they need and how we can best be that buffer for them in a world that is sometimes overwhelming and full of unrealistic expectations.

Do you advocate for your dog?

How do you advocate for them?

Are there places or situations in which your dog needs you to be their advocate and protector but you’re not comfortable doing that yet?

Thinking about those situations, what would advocating for your dog look like?

Are you willing to practice when no one’s looking so you can be the leader and friend they need you to be when those situations do arise?

How do you think actively advocating for your dog might impact other areas of your life?

If you don’t know where to begin, consider talking to a trainer who can help you decipher your dog’s unique needs and body language so you can be all they need you to be.

Encouragement

Your Dog Feels How You Feel

When I adopted Riley, I was in a bad place mentally. I had PTSD, depression, and anxiety. I had a plan to end my life that day. Physically I was dealing with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, and Sensory Processing Disorder. I had a house I was struggling to maintain, and I had just started powerlifting to see if that would help.

My counselor had mentioned that a dog might be a good idea and suggested I consider it, but I had disregarded the idea almost immediately. I didn’t have the energy or capacity to care for a dog.

But then I saw this adorable puppy on the Humane Society website, and I had to meet her. It wasn’t a want; it was an inexplicable need.

Even though I didn’t plan to adopt her or any dog, I left the Humane Society with this beautiful, confident, spunky, wild, 8-pound puppy with the hope of training her to be my service dog.

As I studied and researched how to train her, I read something that really struck me – “Your dog will feel about something the way you feel about it.”

It was this shocking jolt of reality. In my mind, it meant that if I wanted to take her anywhere that caused me anxiety or distress or panic, I had to learn how to manage that response so I could train her to be calm where I needed her to be.

It was interesting.

Suddenly I had a responsibility that didn’t center on me and my pain and my perspective. I had a responsibility to help her see and experience the world differently than the way I did, so she would not be crippled and limited by the things that were crippling and limiting me.

Riley needed me to be brave, confident, and strong so she could learn to be. She needed me to show her the world was interesting, exciting, approachable, and safe to explore and engage with – the exact opposite of how I saw it at the time.

It was an unexpected turn of events and, because I loved her so much from the moment I said, “Yes” to her, I had to choose to put the things I was learning in counseling and books and in my times of prayer into practice for her. To give her the fullest, best, most fulfilling life I possibly could.

Saying it like that makes it sound easy. Like suddenly I was okay. Suddenly I was confident and fearless. Suddenly I saw the world differently. But it was WORK.

I can’t tell you how many times I shook and cried and prayed before taking her somewhere that scared me; how many times I had to allow myself to be aware of what was going on inside – my emotions, my thoughts, and the stories I was telling myself. I had to stop giving place to worst-case scenarios and the belief that every person was a threat.

Gradually I went from being paralyzed with fear, to looking at things through her eyes.

There were things I couldn’t change. I couldn’t fix how I felt, the actual emotions, but I could explore the thoughts and stories I believed that led to them. Not every emotion is based on a belief or story, but many are. And this, I discovered, was the place I had power. The power to change my emotions by changing my story and beliefs.

It was finding this power that began to change things for me.

I went through a process that looked something like this:

What am I feeling?
What story am I telling?
What parts of this story are true, if any?
What parts of this story are untrue, if any?
For those parts that are untrue, what is the truth?
How does this truth change the story?
Now, what am I feeling?

I engaged God in that process, prayerfully asking Him to help me see the truth, searching scripture to find truth when I didn’t know it.

Did I mention this was work? Hard, emotional, challenging, and rewarding work.

I found myself constantly questioning, “Is this emotion or feeling based on the truth? Is the emotion telling me the truth?“

I discovered that very often emotions lie, and I saw it profoundly in Riley.

Something would startle her, and she’d run and hide.

She wasn’t in danger. The thing that startled her wasn’t going to hurt her. But her nervous system didn’t know that and generated a fear response, which she acted on because that’s what animals do, they let their nervous systems lead. I’ll talk more about this in another post because it’s important.

She didn’t have the benefit of a mother to show her how to engage with the things she might encounter in the world, so it was my job and, at first, I didn’t know how to help. in truth, I’m still learning.

But, as I learned how to work through my stuff, I began trying to figure out how to help her work through hers too.

Here’s an example:

Riley was terrified of the toaster. If I put it on the counter in the kitchen, she would go to her crate and hide. It didn’t matter if I put bread in it and pushed the button or not. The simple act of me putting it on the counter sent her running.

To the best of my knowledge, she had never been harmed by a toaster, certainly not while she was with me. I couldn’t figure out what it was that scared her.

I talked to a trainer about it and they asked me to try remembering the first time she was around when I used the toaster. Did it startle me when it popped up? Did I jump? Maybe she saw that and decided based on my reaction that the toaster was to be feared.

Remember, she feels about things how I feel about them.

I couldn’t specifically recall ever actively jumping or being startled by the toaster. But, at that time, I really hated making noise. It was a significant trigger for me. Even alone in my own home with no one around to bother, I had an internal fear response anytime I made noise, and that included the toaster.

That’s when I realized that Riley wasn’t only responding to my outward actions, but to the emotions I thought I was doing really well at masking. And she was taking those emotions on herself. My emotions were her narrative for anything she didn’t already have context for.

In the case of the toaster, she did what everything inside me wanted to do every time I made noise – she ran and hid and waited to make sure there was no aftermath. It was irrational to me, and I’d had years of practicing not responding to that engrained nervous system response to run and hid, but she didn’t. Riley became a barometer for me, mirroring back to me my own needs, fears, and stories.

Owning Riley and working with her through all these different things continues to bring me healing and freedom. She raises my awareness of things I used to try to bury and avoid and reminds me it’s okay to acknowledge my emotions while not allowing them to narrate my story.

If someone had told me that understanding that Riley feels about situations how I feel about them would be one of the keys to breaking free from many of the PTSD triggers that imprisoned me, I wouldn’t have believed them. But God has used her again and again to get me to look closer, move slower, and do regular truth-checking on my narrative.

Here’s the thing, it’s not just Riley who feels how I feel about situations, people, and things – but your dog does too.

Have you seen it demonstrated?

Where?

How can knowing this empower you to not only make their life experience better but maybe even transform your own?

You may find that in some areas your dog doesn’t need training, instead, you need to recognize and upgrade the stories you tell and your beliefs. Sure, training can help, but co-regulation is a real thing (we’ll talk about that in another post, too) and you learning to work through and regulate your emotional responses can go a long way in building confidence and resilience in your dog.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I wanted to train Riley myself, in part for financial reasons. However, because a dog feels how we feel about the situations we find ourselves in, especially when you’re dealing with mental and/or emotional health, it is ideal to have someone else train your service dog. Having someone with a neutral take on the world rather than one heightened by anxiety, depression, fear, PTSD, etc gives your dog the foundation they need to be able to better serve you without putting you in the position to have to do what I did. As it is, Riley has plenty of her own anxieties and some of that probably could have been resolved by having someone else train her for the public access part of her work. So, this is just something to consider as you read this. My recommendation would always be to let someone else train your service dog, if possible, to maximize their ability to help you with the things you need help with.

Education

The Three D’s of Off-Leash Time with Your Dog

Dogs love and need off-leash time. Time to run, play, explore, climb, and satisfy their innate drives. They need time to just be dogs.

As much as most dog owners want to give their dogs a fulfilling life, many are unprepared for the effort required to allow a dog this amount of freedom. It can be exhausting!

I say it a lot, the more freedom Riley has, the more responsibility I have. If I’m allowing her time to go into prey drive and hunt squirrels, then I’m also accepting responsibility for all the things that she can’t and won’t see because her focus is set on whatever she is tracking or treeing.

Let me talk a little more about this.

Riley’s breed was created to hunt and to herd, so she has a very strong prey drive and to a lesser extent a herding drive. In fairness, I have seen the herding drive in action and it’s there but it’s not something I’m in a situation to facilitate for her as readily as the hunting drive, so it’s not nearly as developed.

When Riley is focused on prey, what I call being in “hunt mode”, she develops tunnel vision I have seen her run at top speed past a person with less than an inch between them and it’s evident that at no point did she see or register that a human being was there. She only saw the prey. It can be difficult for her to hear and to switch gears (we do a lot of work to help with this, and I’ll talk about that in another post).

With all that said, if she can only hear and see certain things and blocks out everything else then it is my job to be aware and vigilant for her. For me, it means I’m looking for what I call “the three D’s” – Danger, Distraction, and Diversion. This is also why I don’t have as much video footage of her as I would like to have because taking video and even photos when we’re out like that takes too much attention away from what I need to do to keep her safe.

Let’s look at each of these things

DANGER

Danger is going to look different depending on your dog, their drives, their training, and your environment. What is a danger for Riley and me when we’re hunting squirrels in a treelined business complex is different than what I would look for in an off-leash park or on an off-leash hike.

If we’re in a business area, I’m watching for cars, people, and dogs (both on and off-leash). Essentially anything that might be a threat to her and her safety. I’m watching the ground for unexpected things that could cause injury – broken glass, garbage, holes in the ground.

If we’re in an off-leash area, the danger is different. The odds of there being a moving vehicle in an open field are pretty low but there are natural/physical pitfalls – treats or food left on the ground (Riley is very sensitive to chicken), holes she might not see, garbage, broken glass and other things that might harm her. I watch how people engage with their dogs to decide if I’ll allow Riley to approach or not. Depending on where we are I may also watch for animals that could be a danger to her.

Anything that she might miss that could cause her harm falls in this category and I watch for as much of it as I possibly can, especially when I’m allowing her to hunt and burn off some energy.

DISTRACTIONS

People and dogs fall under danger and distractions I’m watching for distractions to determine if they are dangerous or not.

What does that mean?

If she is tracking a squirrel and we’re close to the street and I see another squirrel across the street, that is a dangerous distraction. If she sees it and I don’t get her attention in time, she is likely to bolt after it and not pay attention to cars or anything else that might be between her and the squirrel. I need to see it before she does, so I can redirect if necessary.

If the squirrel or rabbit or whatever she’s tracking is being “squirrely” meaning it looks likely that it’s going to bolt across the street instead of staying in whatever area it’s currently in – I will call her out.

If crows are messing with her or trying to get her attention, I’m watching to see where they are circling. They tend to follow a pattern so I can tell if they are going to stay where I want her or they are going to lead her somewhere I don’t want her to go.

Distractions could also be things like maintenance and landscape crews working in the area or construction crews whose equipment might make a lot of noise. These distractions could create a situation where she gets fearful and has an anxiety response. Not only might that distract her from what she’s doing, but it may also shut her down or send her into an avoidance response where she struggles to hear me or remember that I’m there at all. Survival mode can kick in.

There’s a lot of overlap between dangers and distractions.

DIVERSIONS

Diversions are places and things I identify in the environment that would allow me to help her switch gears from hunter-brain to paying attention to me. Something that is still stimulating and offers engagement but helps transition her from that single-focused, high-alert, adrenaline-pumping mindset to something more relational and engaged with me.

Riley loves to climb trees, go upstairs, jump on and off rocks and walls, and hop up on tables. Knowing this, I look for places where I can take her to do these kinds of things.

To help manage her energy and focus and keep her from getting overstimulated, I alternate between opportunities to run amok and chase squirrels and exercise that prey drives and other more relational activities that allow her to calm down and focus on me even as she continues to exert mental, emotional, and physical energy.

These kinds of activities also often double as confidence-building exercises; things that challenge her and make her think. So there is a lot of benefit in incorporating them in our outings.

Finding and using these diversion opportunities has made a huge difference in our walks because I walk her through some things before I put her back on leash which puts her more into a pack mentality, which helps her pay attention to me and walk with me nicely when I put her leash on to head home.

Here’s an example: A Saturday outing might include 10 minutes chasing squirrels, followed by running up and down a flight of stairs or playing hide and seek; back to hunting and chasing squirrels; then climbing over rocks or up in a tree; more hunting; then some obedience and impulse control work before leashing up and walking to a local coffee shop where we do obedience and desensitization work on the patio; then walking home.

PAWS AND CONSIDER

What drives does your dog have that you either want to fulfill or already have ways you fulfill?
What frame of mind is your dog in when they are engaged in that drive?
What dangers does this frame of mind present that might not be dangers when they are not actively engaged in that drive?
What people and things in the environment might your dog be a danger to?
What distractions might you encounter when you’re spending time off-leash with your dog?
What might the result be if your dog were to be distracted?
How could you get their attention if they are faced with a danger or a distraction?
How certain are you they would respond, particularly if they are off leash?
What backups do you have if they don’t respond to your voice and are off-leash?
What does your dog enjoy that provides the opportunity for them to engage with and focus on you?
How might you blend some of these diversions in when you’re allowing them to exercise other drives?
How can you be aware of the Dangers, Distractions, and Diversion opportunities in the environment in which you usually work with your dog?

Education

TRAINING CLARITY: Factor Yourself into the Equation

Introduction

Getting training for your dog can be a lot of work, even confusing. Finding the right trainer, knowing what to look for, ask for, and expect; understanding your role and theirs, even knowing what success looks like for you.

In this series of posts, I’m going to talk about Training Clarity.

Keep in mind, as with all the other posts I write, that I am not a trainer. I train one dog, mine. With that said, I have worked with multiple trainers – not just in training Riley, but as an office assistant and training developer. I’ve had an inside peek and been the person who needed help with their dog.

I’ve had the experience of using Riley as a distraction dog in training sessions and helping with puppies on puppy play dates.

That’s the place I will write these posts from.

Factoring Yourself into the Equation

One of the things I learned working in the office of a dog trainer is that many clients don’t factor themselves into the equation when considering working with a trainer.

What does that mean?

You should know yourself and what you need. Here are some things you should know about yourself:

How do you learn best?
- Verbally
- Visual
- Written
- Hands-on
- A combination (and what combination)
How do you prefer to communicate?
- Email
- Phone
- Text
- Videos
- Writing
- Audio
Do you prefer someone who gets straight to the point or someone who explains in detail?
How much communication do you like or want between sessions?
How much access do you want to a trainer and what kind of access?
Are you open to using “tools” such as an e-collar, prong collar, slip lead, etc.?
- If so, which ones are you open to?
- If not, which ones do you prefer not to use and why?
- Are you open to being educated about any of the tools you prefer not to use, if a trainer deems it appropriate for your dog?
Do you know what you want out of training? E.G., what are your goals with your dog?
- Basic obedience
- Behavior modification
- Advanced obedience
- Sport training
- “Work” training (therapy dog, service dog, ESA, protection)

It doesn’t just matter if the trainer is a good fit for your dog. It matters if they are a good fit for you. So, knowing these kinds of things are important.

As you’re talking to trainers, pay attention to these things in addition to what they have to say about their general training philosophy and approach:

Do you like their personality?
Do they communicate in a way you understand? Using words that make sense to you and explaining things that don’t?
Is their training style aligned with how you learn?
Do they listen to you, your needs, and your goals?
In training sessions are they going to be doing most of the handling or are they going to coach you through the handling?
How are they going to be communicating the training plan and progress with you?
Will their approach work for you?

You are an essential element in the training of your dog and your ability to communicate with and understand the trainer is very important, but it’s something many owners don’t even consider.

Yes, you want your dog to like them and respond to them. You want them to be experienced and knowledgeable. You want them to have the availability you need so you can make training work. But don’t forget to factor yourself into the equation and consider your needs, too.

Education

TRAINING CLARITY: Recognizing Patterns in Your Dogs Behavior

Introduction

In this series of posts, I’m going to talk about Training Clarity.

I’ve had the experience of using Riley as a distraction dog in training sessions and help with puppies on puppy play dates.

That’s the place I will write these posts from.

Identifying Patterns of Behavior

A dog lies on the couch, looking out the patio door.
A person walks by.
The dog barks like crazy.
The person keeps going.
The dog stops barking.

The part of this series that creates a problem for most of us is the dog barking. We don’t have a problem with the dog lying on the couch watching out the door, in fact, a lot of the time we feel good about it because we feel like we’re letting them do something we think they like – watching for squirrels, or whatever.

We try to correct step 3. It’s step 3 that bothers us. But it’s step 1 that sets our dog up to fail.

By allowing them to lie on the couch and watch out the door, we are giving them a job to do – protect the house. It seems harmless. It’s not a “job” to us. We just want them to be happy and we think looking out the window or door makes them happy. But what if, what makes them happy is the “job” that comes with it?

Every person, dog, or squirrel that goes by is a threat and the dog is doing what they think we want them to do by barking, alerting us to the presence of danger.

They are rewarded whether you are there or not – because the threat goes away and that’s their job, making the threat go away. It doesn’t matter that the person was passing by anyway, they don’t know that. They saw that the threat was present, they barked, and the threat left. Success. That is their reward.

If you correct them, at any point once they’ve started barking, it matters very little. They were already rewarded. The threat went away and that’s what they wanted. Cause and effect. I bark. The threat leaves.

Dog jumps on person.
Person waits until dog puts all four paws on the floor
Dog puts all four paws on the floor
Dog gets attention.

Sometimes dogs jump to control the greeting. So, the reward is controlling the greeting by jumping.

Sometimes the dog just wants the attention. Jumping equals attention. It doesn’t matter about the adjustments between step 1 and 4. Cause and effect. I jump. I get attention.

Just like “I bark and the threat leaves”.

Understanding this can help you understand where you need training and guidance, where your dog needs clarity, what needs to change in the pattern. It can also help you understand why a trainer may not work on the behavior you think needs attention but at something upstream of it.

I want to take this example a little further but will apply it to Riley because her pattern doesn’t start with jumping up on someone, it starts when I say, “Riley, look your grandma is here.” or “Is that your auntie?” or “That’s your friend.”

That’s one place I have an opportunity to break the pattern.

What if I don’t say that when someone comes over? What if I do something different, create a different starting point to create a new pattern?

What works for me may not work for you. I get to figure it out because I know me and I know Riley, and what I want. It’s a great discussion to have with a trainer. Exploring the pattern and the opportunities for interruption and change.

Here’s another example.

There are times I take Riley out intending to let her chase squirrels and get into her hunter brain and just let her be a dog. This produces a lot of adrenaline but I know that. It’s a choice. When that time is over, it can take a lot of time for her to burn off the adrenaline.

If I immediately leash her and expect her to heel and walk nicely with me, the rest of the trip home is going to be a nightmare. She’ll be pulling, reactive, and still be in hunting mode.

If, on the other hand, I give her some freedom, some time to calm down, and do some obedience work, it helps her get out of prey drive and into a calmer, more attentive state of mind. We have a great walk home. She is not reactive or at least only mildly reactive. She heels well and pays attention.

It’s a pattern and I get to decide what to do with it. I get to explore the pattern and everything surrounding it to see where the pattern can be interrupted and decide how I can do it.

Your Turn

Thinking about behaviors from the perspective of patterns, are there any patterns you see that have been established with your dog, even unintentionally? What are they? Can you see anywhere in the pattern that you can interrupt it and maybe get a different outcome?

I encourage you to write them down. Then, even if you can’t figure out how to interrupt the pattern or change it you’ll have something to discuss with a trainer or other professional who can help you.

Education

TRAINING CLARITY: Behavior that is Allowed is Repeated

Introduction

In this series of posts, I’m going to talk about Training Clarity.

I’ve had the experience of using Riley as a distraction dog in training sessions and help with puppies on puppy play dates.

That’s the place I will write these posts from.

Behavior that is Allowed is Repeated

One of the most impactful things I heard a trainer say is, “Every behavior that is allowed is repeated.”

That was the moment I really understood that training is not an event or a task, it’s not an isolated weekly session with you, your dog, and a trainer. It is every moment of every day, every interaction, even what happens when you’re not there. All of it is training.

My first thought was, “What do I allow with Riley that I don’t want to repeat?”

It began to give me clarity. Finally, a question I could answer.

I didn’t want her to pull the leash after we calmly got out the door.
I didn’t want her trying to take off after squirrels, birds, or anything that looked like prey, without my permission.
I didn’t want her jumping on people when they come to visit.
I didn’t want her lunging and barking at dogs we pass on walks.

Those were my top four.

Not only did this give me clarity about what I wanted from training, it also gave me clarity as far as what I was allowing that I didn’t want to allow.

“Allow” was a keyword for me.

What am I allowing?

It was empowering.

If I could allow one thing, then I could change what I was allowing and how I was allowing it. It didn’t mean I knew HOW to change it, but I was aware now that I was allowing things and what I allowed would be repeated.

Every time I allowed something I didn’t want; I was training her. Every time I allowed something I did want; I was training her. It was ALL training.

If you’re considering training, even if you’re not, one thing to look at is the behaviors you are allowing; the ones you need someone to guide you through changing. Those will be a great starting point.

Education

Re-imagining the Walk

I used to hate on-leash walks with Riley.

Off leash she was great. She would stay by my side, ask permission to run after squirrels, ignore people and dogs. On leash, she was a nightmare. Pulling, lunging, reacting to every dog or person, and completely ignoring me. And it didn’t matter if she was on a short leash or a long line.

So, I avoided on leash walks whenever possible. It was simple when I lived in a house with a fenced yard and could play with her back there. I lived close to several locations where I could take her on long walks off leash with plenty of freedom and opportunities to play.

I will admit it, I took the easy way out. I didn’t think about it at the time. Walking was miserable and I had ways around it, so why do something that neither of us enjoyed when I didn’t have to? And we had other priorities in training, so I didn’t prioritize it.

Then, one day we were living in an apartment, and I didn’t have a car and we had to figure it out.

It was a lot of work.

I started out by recognizing she had no idea what “heel” meant and that I had unfair and unrealistic expectations. So, we started from scratch.

I took the time to decide what I wanted a heel to look like. I had a good picture of it in my head. And then, we practiced several times a day, every day. It was tedious and often frustrating, but we persisted and in the process I began to realize that I might be telling the wrong story about walks.

What if they could be adventures? What if they didn’t have to look a certain way? Was it possible that she and I could do something that worked for us? What if it didn’t matter what trainers on social media said a walk should look like?

These questions allowed me to set everything else aside and gave me the freedom to ask what Riley and I needed; what would bring us joy and fulfillment. And, if I could say this to every dog owner I would – it’s okay to define what you want and need in the context of your life and who you and your dog are together and do that.

Today things are different.

I don’t dread going outside with Riley. I look forward to it, and the times I don’t look forward to it, we make it short and easy.

Riley has days she’s great on leash, and days she’s reactive. She can have a good morning and then a rough afternoon, or the other way around. But now, we take it one moment, one outing at a time. I stopped expecting perfection – from both of us. I stopped expecting every walk to look the same and started letting each one be whatever we needed it to be.

This change allowed me to breathe, relax, and start to focus on our relationship instead of what I thought a walk, or anything else we did, should look like – and that changed everything.

Here’s the thing, and I’ll likely drive it home again and again on this site: You are unique. Your dog is unique. Your life is unique. And it is okay for your relationship with your dog to fit your needs and your life. Your walks don’t have to look like everyone else’s. Your playtime doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. What matters is the health and well-being of you and your dog. Sure, there are basic foundational things that are valuable but how you use those skills and apply them in your life is completely individual and there is a lot of freedom in that.

Don’t let the “influencers” on social media rob you of the joy of enjoying your dog in the context of your own life. Breathe and discover what works for you. Sometimes that takes time and a lot of trial and error but it’s worth it.