Occum's Razor

A well established principle in the study of animal behavior is that of parsimony.  Also known as Occum’s Razor, it mandates choosing the simplest explanation for a behavior that accounts for the facts, even if more complicated options are available. 

I need to put this in my memory bank or possibly tattoo it to my forehead.  The more you understand about dogs or people for that matter the more you need to remember this simple principle.  How often I have seen myself and others jump to a complicated explanation for the simplest thing.  So worried about what was the dogs motivation, what were the precipitating facts, etc.  While context is important,of course, it can sometimes muddy the waters.  Sometimes dogs do stuff just because they are dogs.  The same reason men do things we never understand, they are men.

This stuck me as especially poignant, given my struggles with Phalen.  Sometimes, he is just a dog, doing what dog's do.  I may not like it, it may not be what my mommy brain wants to process, but it is what it is.  He is a dog and will do dog stuff.  I tell my clients that all of the time, somehow I forgot to learn the lesson myself.  Do as I say, not as I do.  

I had gone off the deep end this week trying to figure out why Phalen had attacked the sheep.  I thought that he didn't respect me, that God forbid that jackass at the training seminar was right, that all of my hopes and dreams for Phalen and I were gone.  Yes, I have a flair for the dramatic.  But even with my dramatic tendencies, I was devastated.  My confidence had been shaken and I even considered no longer training.  I was sure I was far to unqualified to be teaching anything to anyone about dogs, when I couldn't even help my own.  I was actually considering giving up, something I don't do lightly.  My Commodore 64 brain was on major overload.

Occum's Razor would force me to know that Phalen was being a predator in a pen with prey.  Hmm, wonder what happens in that scenario.....Do I still need to take my part of the responsibility, of course.  Better management and better skills could have made for a very different scenario.  I can take care of those things and have already begun the process.  I can help Phalen with other skills by taking it slow, but always being aware that he is a predator and the sheep are prey.  

I will look at behavior differently, and stop apologizing when my behavior friends come up with a complicated explanation and I "dumb it down".  Turns out, it's not so dumb afterall.

My Brain Is A Commodore 64

I have a high IQ and yet when it comes to processing information, I swear my brain is a Commodore 64.  It is amazing to me that my brain actually sends the signals to my feet to make them move in a timely fashion most of the time.  The lack of processing speed would however explain my life long clumsiness.  I am quick with an inappropriate remark and I can remember the name of Al Pacino's dog in the movie Serpico, but I can't figure out what I see in my own dog.

I have been fretting since Sunday about Phalen.  I had all but convinced myself that he had no respect for me and that our relationship and our dreams were just that, dreams.  I am usually pretty upbeat, but a mind is a tricky thing and especially one that needs a serious upgrade.  All of my fears of inadequacy came rushing to the main chip in my brain and it was stuck in a loop.  It was almost the blue screen of death!

Thankfully, I have friends that love me and have newer processors that I do.  Pam and Susan helped me to sort out what I saw and what really happened.  Phalen is not a monster, he is a dog.  A high drive, fabulous, smart boy who quite willingly takes control of a situation if given the opportunity.  That's what happened Sunday, opportunity.  I gave him the opportunity to engage in those behaviors by poor management, and naivete.  So with that information on a floppy drive, I can insert it into my very old drive and create a workable program.

Whew, crisis averted.  Ron has offered to buy me the necessary upgrades to help my processing speed.  I fear it is a lost cause, I am destined to be a Commodore 64.  My brain must slowly process information to glean all the necessary lessons.  It has it's own algorithm and as long as it's working, I think I will just keep plugging along.  Speed may not be all it's cracked up to be!

I Don't Know How To Love Him

There is always music in my head.  Mostly show tunes, but always some music to go along with every part of my day.  Today, it is the soundtrack to Jesus Christ Superstar.  I ran home this morning to check on the dogs and while making biscuits, don't ask, the soundtrack was playing in my head.  I looked over at Phalen to see if he was rolling his eyes at my singing and the song, I Don't Know How To Love Him just gushed out.  I replaced the word "man" with dog and it seemed so perfect for how I feel these last couple of days.

I don't know how to love him.
What to do, how to move him.
I've been changed, yes really changed.
In these past few days, when I've seen myself,
I seem like someone else.
I don't know how to take this.
I don't see why he moves me.
He's a dog. He's just a dog.
And I've had so many dogs before,
In very many ways,
He's just one more.
Should I bring him down?
Should I scream and shout?
Should I speak of love,
Let my feelings out?
I never thought I'd come to this.
What's it all about?
Don't you think it's rather funny,
I should be in this position.
I'm the one who's always been
So calm, so cool, no lover's fool,
Running every show.
He scares me so.
I never thought I'd come to this.
What's it all about?
Yet, if he said he loved me,
I'd be lost. I'd be frightened.
I couldn't cope, just couldn't cope.
I'd turn my head. I'd back away.
I wouldn't want to know.
He scares me so.
I want him so.
I love him so.

Let me explain....Phalen and I had that surreal experience with Cappy on Saturday.  Phalen was awesome and I was so proud of him.  Sunday, I took him out to practice what we had learned.  I thought that he and I were both in a good place and we should try.  I thought I had a good plan for protecting my sheep and I had Janet there as extra support.  I was feeling confident after what I had seen on Saturday.  We entered the pen calmly, we approached the sheep which I had place in a corner to be able to protect.  I let him wear off some energy just flanking the sheep while I protected them.  Everything was going great!  Downed when asked, focused and working well I thought.  We started to move the sheep out of the corner and then a little one made a break for it. Phalen was on him like white on rice!

He ran the little baby down, grabbing it by the neck and I couldn't get him off of it.  He would not listen and was in total predator mode.  He injured the little lamb, but he will be OK.  When we got the little lamb secured, he turned his attention to the other sheep and went after them.  Good God Almighty, this is painful to write!  Ron finally was able to get his hands on him after what seemed an eternity.  I had taken a couple of very hard falls and I couldn't get to him right away, it is probably a blessing.  I have never seen Ron so angry at a dog.  I was angry too, but mostly, my heart was broken.  I had failed at protecting my sheep and I had allowed Phalen to be a mad man.

I love him, I work so hard at helping him to be successful and I feel like most of the time I fall short.  I will of course keep trying.  I will shed more tears, and we will have victories and epic failures.  Epic failures always teach me the most.  I learned a lot from my experience on Sunday, and I am still processing all of it. I can't give up, I just can't.  I have to find the magic formula that works with him.  Pam told me last night that I am where I am supposed to be and reminded me to be open to what I am supposed to learn.  Not what I wanted to hear, but what I needed to hear!  So yes, I don't know how to love him, but I am going to keep trying to learn.

I love him so.......

I'm Positive I'll Kick Your Ass

I am a positive trainer I would never even consider hitting a dog unless it was life or death.  Yet yesterday I found myself saying the words; " If you try to hurt my dog again, I will hit you with this stock stick and we'll see how much it hurts".  I was never more serious in my life, and the person understood that it was not an empty threat.  Thankfully, I did not have to hit him. He did confess however at one point he thought I might.  See, positive training does work!  I was positive I would follow through and so was he!

I took Phalen to a herding camp with a fairly famous trainer that totally misrepresents himself.  He claims that he works from a relationship model with your dog and does "quiet herding".  He clearly comes from some pretty dysfunctional relationships if what I saw yesterday is what he believes is healthy.  He herds by intimidation and fear.  I understand completely that if a dog is going to kill a sheep you have to protect the sheep at all costs, I agree with that.  The rest is just horse crap!  I saw so many appalling things yesterday that it would take pages to describe.  Shock collars for getting downs, scaring a young Belgian Shepherd until he actually shut down and was cowering in the corner and everyone intimidating their dogs.  I asked Cappy about the dog's body language showing fear and he said "just ignore it". I can't believe he gets money for this and I'm more shocked that people go along with it! 

I go to many seminars and I am always amazed to see people agree with anything the presenter says.  They are sheep being led to the slaughter and go willingly.  Are you freaking kidding me?  I swear, unless Christ himself is presenting, I am going to question.  I felt like I was wearing a scarlet letter yesterday, but I didn't care.  It is my job to protect my dogs at all costs and I don't take that lightly.  I set very clear boundaries, challenged his belief system, and for the most part, he respected my wishes.  We had a couple of tense moments, but I was so clear with my boundaries, that they never got crossed except once when I physically stepped between he and my dog.  I was polite, which he was not always, but he is responsible for his behavior and I mine.  I found myself saying over and over yesterday; "He is my dog and I will do what I know is right, you have to make the same decision for your own dog".  They all looked at me like I was from mars.

Phalen did a beautiful job yesterday.  He was in fact more controlled than dogs that have been herding much longer.  He didn't bark at any dogs while on lead, and was even able to lay calmly next to me and watch other dogs herd the sheep.  I will not be taking Cappy's advice and 'beating my dog in the head with a rubber mallet every morning", yes, you read it correctly, that was actually what he said.  I will instead continuing our work on fundamentals, and helping him to be the great dog that I know he is.  We will take all of the time he needs, it is a joy to work with him and we have nothing but time.  He is MY dog and no one will ever hurt him.

Yesterday had all the earmarks of a complete disaster, but I feel pretty damn good about it.  I protected Phalen at all costs, did not cave to the enormous peer pressure, and hopefully made some people think. Even if they think I am crazy, when I see them at a herding trial and Phalen and I kick their ass, they will know exactly why.  I came away empowered, more committed to what I know in my heart to be right, and flush with the knowledge that my dog is awesome and works with me because he wants to, not because he is scared I will hurt him if he doesn't. Cappy actually told me that herding can't be taught positively, oh nothing like a challenge.  I informed him that not only will I do it, but I will send video of it to him.  Never tell me I can't do something, it only assures that I will. VIVA LA POSITIVE TRAINING!

The Mother Curse

I realized yesterday that I have the mother's curse.  My dog is jut like me!  Oh heaven help me!  I rail against my crazy adolescent that seems to struggle with self control.  I used to cry when I had to take Sheena to class, because she was "so crazy".  The whole time, unaware that I was actually railing against the knowledge that they are just like me.  Ron has pointed this fact out several times over the years, however I ignored any implications that we were similar.  He is a man and of course he could not have an insight to anything so deep.  I hate the taste of crow......

The whole time I was in school I got great grades, but always had that little box on my report card checked that said "Does not practice self control" - translation...I talk too much.  I never really got in trouble, notes were occasionally sent home but I managed to never once take a trip to the principals office.  I'm pretty sure Sheena and Phalen would have similar experiences, well except that Phalen would get in trouble for fighting.  My actions drove my parents, especially my dad insane!  If he were here, he would be laughing in my face and enjoying every minute of this!  I do miss him so much!

My Sheena, the sweetest dog that God ever created is a total wild child.  I see in her my wanderlust and the need for life to be a party.  She is a good worker, but is sure that she knows a better way to do things and will always add her own special twist to whatever you ask her to do.  As she has aged she has calmed a bit, but is ready at the drop of a hat to be her former party girl self.  Hmm, sounds vaguely familiar.

This realization has given me a whole new appreciation for Phalen.  I have deeper empathy for how he feels, and what is going on in that head of his.  So smart, able to do anything I ask, but struggles with the self control.  I think my struggle with Phalen has been harder in many ways than with Sheena because of the violence.  I still don't claim to understand that part, but I do understand the impulse control and how hard he tries to please me.  I understand the look in his eyes that says, "Mom I am trying so hard but I just gotta do it".  And I understand the look when he disappoints me and feels remorse.  I know that feeling first hand, and how you would give anything to make it right, that is until the next time you can't stop yourself.

I'll going to take the mom curse and celebrate it.  I am going to be thankful that my dogs love life enough to view it as a party.  I am for once going to be the anchor that helps keep them grounded, but not an anchor around their necks.  I want them to party, to celebrate life, to explore,heck most of the time I join in!   However,  I will be there to help direct them and to pick them up when they 'don't exercise self control".  And Ron will be there for all of us, holding on for dear life so that we don't float away and rolling his eyes. I just realized that I need to thank him, for unlike my parents, he has 3 of us in the house.  Maybe the curse is not on me but on Ron...... 

Husbands Are Harder to Train Than Dogs

Give me a crazy, or frightened dog any day!  I would much rather work with them than try to train a husband.  There is something about the opposable  thumbs on the husbands that makes them think they know everything.  I have them too, but I don't know everything!  Maybe I am blaming the wrong body part!  Whatever it is, they are very difficult to train. I have tried modeling behavior, explaining behavior, reinforcing for the behavior that I like and yet the retention of the skills seems to be lacking.  Let me rephrase that, he knows what to do, he chooses not to do it.

My hubby is great with the dogs most  of the time, but recently, he has begun  slipping into laziness.  Yelling seems to be his first instinct.  Really yelling?  We are not a yelling family!  He would never even think about yelling at me, of course, he has learned that it really does not achieve the desired results.  I come from a family of yellers, which is why I don't.  If I feel the need to raise my voice, everyone better run for cover.  It's what makes it so effective.  I can count on one hand the number of times per year that I have to raise my voice on a school bus full of middle school students. I prefer to ask nicely, reward the behavior that I like and have very clear boundaries  I train and live my life the same way.

Ron comes from a very passionate Polish family.  They all yell all the time and they don't even know it.  I'm sure he doesn't realize he is doing it, because he looks so confused when I confront him.  He looks at me like I am from mars and that I am deranged.  I calmly explain that he is indeed screeching at the dogs and that none of us appreciate it.  He is baffled.  I again explain our way of training and remind him of our principles as intelligent,evolved, sane, human beings.  If he still doesn't get it, I am sometimes forced to use the ultimate weapon.  Tears.  There I said it, I am not ashamed.  The tears get his attention and he again returns to the sane loving man that I married.

He may need a behavior plan, or medication, or maybe he just needs a time out.  Maybe I should send him to a workshop, a little Suzanne to straighten him out.  Or maybe, I will remember that dog training is not his chosen profession, cut him a little slack and be thankful that he loves me and the dogs.  I think I like the last plan best but maybe I will lace it with a few chocolate chip cookies or kisses to as a reward for behavior I like.

Consequences

I am the queen of making bad decisions.  I generally have to learn things the hard way and I have had many regrets over the years.  Why then am I surprised that Phalen is so much like me?  He rushes in head first, not thinking it through and then has to live with the consequences.

He decided that Abby 2 was too much and attacked her.  I broke up the fight and now they are separated  This morning he is next to me whining and looking out the window at the Abbys playing in the back yard.  I see the regret and confusion on his face,  The desire to go and play with the girls and the knowledge that I will not let him.  He pleads with me, looks at me imploringly, but none of it works.  I just sit and cry and try to explain to him that I can't trust him.  I can't risk that he will hurt this beautiful puppy both emotionally and physically.  My heart breaks a little more with each whine, and when I speak the words "I can't trust you" it almost crushes me.

This is my sweet boy who gives kisses and snuggles all of his 96 lbs.on my lap.  My baby who actually has beautiful play skills, and I raised to love other dogs.  This is the boy who spent so much time yesterday licking my bandage where he bit my leg while I was pulling him off the puppy.  Such soft sweet licks, and with each lick I felt the regret and sorrow.  The boy who follows me with love in his eyes and who will do anything I ask...except like other dogs.

This is a strange journey that we are on.  I know that there is much to learn and the lessons are important, but today I just want it to be easy.  That's not going to happen, things are ever seldom easy for me.  Instead, I am going to concentrate on whatever positives I can pull from this, look at what I can learn and cry a few well deserved tears.

Puppy's Are Good For The Soul

We have a beautiful new 5 month old foster, Abby.  She is feminine, smart, active and all puppy!  To see her explore her world is like manna to my hungry soul.  There is something about a puppy that reminds me of why I do what I do and why I love dogs so much.  The promise of a better life for them, the experiences that you will share and the look on their face when they have a light bulb moment is priceless.  This little angel is no exception.  Exceptionally smart, eager to please and a total maniac!  Ripping through the house mach 2 with her hair on fire, jumping on me, and biting at my hands and the whole time smiling, and reminding me how good life can be.

Phalen of course hates her and I have a new bite on my leg from breaking up a fight.  Even that can't dim the glow that emanates from having a puppy in the house.  The constant reinforcement of what I want her to do and what she has done right, feeds me and excites me.  She reminds me of how far my own dogs have come, even Phalen.  She is my promise of a better tomorrow and I cling to her energy and her light.

My favorite class to teach is puppy class,  I have become a puppy addict, I can never get enough of them. We will only have this little darling for a week and it is probably a good thing given the situation with Phalen, but I am going to enjoy every second with her.  Thanks for joining us even briefly Abby, our lives will be better for having you in it!

Quiet time

I love that part of the evening when all the dogs of their own volition go and lay down.  Not because I am lazy or that I don't want to spend time with them, but because it means that they are content.  They understand that there is a time to rest their bodies and just "be".  Phalen is curled up at my feet with his ball between his feet, Abby is crashed on my bed, Sheena is lying on my other side, taking deep peaceful breaths.  Riley is laying next to his dad, Wolf and Foxy are on their beds and everything is quiet.  I can hear and distinguish each dogs breathing, and with each breath I relax more. 

I know it is tentative at best, I live with 6 Shepherds.  They will be ready to go if I ask or if I move.  It is hard wired into their DNA, the need to follow and be a part of everything I do.  I love that about them, and wouldn't change it for anything in the world.  Well that last statement is not exactly true, sometimes, I have to pee, but know that the second I get up 6 Shepherds will jump to attention.  Sometimes, it's better just to wait!

They are aware my every move and the slightest shift in weight will open their eyes.   They look up to see what I am up to, and assessing that no food or activity is involved they close their eyes once more and return to rest.  It often reminds me of Jonestown, bodies sprawled and strewn over our little house and I giggle at the sight.  Never did I imagine that it would be filled with so many dogs or so much love.

Waiting for Results

I am a rescue person, even as a child, I dragged home every animal that came across my path and tried to convince my mom that it did not have a family and we had a responsibility to care for it.  The number of legs never mattered and back when I was brave, the lack of legs didn't matter either.  Getting a show dog has been a very different experience for me.  Lately, it seems as if having a show dog just means waiting around for test results.

Phalen is finally 2 and that means he is eligible for breeding,  He is just a baby, he can't be breeding!  I have been very strong in protecting him form anyone even thinking about an early breeding.  I have insisted on every test I could find and/or afford.  It is such a huge responsibility and I have to be sure that I am doing everything in my power to only improve the breed.  No iffy breedings will ever happen with my boy.  Everyone will probably hate me, but I really don't care.  If they think I am a pain in the ass now, just wait until I breed him for MY puppy!

We have the results for his OFA heart, CERF, DNA, MDR-1 and DM.  We are have been witing for OFA results.  Just looking at the alphabet soup listed makes my eyes cross.  Ron called this morning and the results from OFA are here....NORMAL ELBOWS AND GOOD HIPS!!!!  Whew, what a relief.  To know that my baby has good hips and elbows and will indeed better the breed is what I wanted to hear.  Good for Phalen and even better for the breed.

I think we are done waiting for results for awhile.  I still want to do his food sensitivity test and a EPI profile, but then I think we are done.  We now move on to screening potential mates and then waiting for puppies.  This will be the worst, I won't be satisfied with just cute little puppies, I want to track them and see how they grow into adulthood.  Forget what I said about the waiting being done.....it is just beginning.

Did I mention I am really bad at waiting?