Never Been Kissed

Dog Blog Post #196: Remember how I reserved the right to change my mind about what trick we were going to be working on?

Good thing, as I gave “Kisses” a try this week.

This should be an easy trick - at least it was with Beau. I pointed to my cheek, he gave me a sniff to check out what I was pointing to, I clicked, he got a cookie….

He was sold on this trick right from the start. It was embarrassing to even it call it a trick, as it was such a natural thing for him to do, and he did it so easily.

For anyone.

At anytime.

(Have I ever mentioned that the ladies at the pet store called him a hussy? No, probably not. Moving on…)

Along comes Zachary. I figured, “Hey, let’s do an easy trick – that old ‘Kisses’ thing.” Yeah, right. Zachary not only did not care to check out my finger (nor my cheek) he actually backed up, and looked away!

Ok, so much for that one.

Time passes, and here comes Henry. Sweet little Henry. Friendly little Henry. Loves to lick my cheek and chew on my ear Henry. I figured, “Hey, let’s do an easy trick – that old ‘Kisses’ thing.” Yeah. Right. Henry not only did not care to check out my finger (nor my cheek) he actually backed up, sat down, and then decided to play sit-n-stare.

And stare.

And stare.

(Gee, what a surprise.)

So I pointed, and he sat, and I pointed, and he stared, and I dipped my finger into cream cheese to sweeten(?) the pot, and he tried to lick the spoon instead of my finger (stupid me, should have put the spoon on the table) and I gave up.

Next!

Treats

Dog Blog Post #195: My original plan was a brief post, showing what I've been doing for treats now that Zachary is hard-core dieting. And so here's a picture I took over the holidays to illustrate that very point. (Usual disclaimer: These are the treats I actually use, and I'm not getting anything from anyone for showing them.)

The problem is, the treats are fairly large - see square on upper left of napkin.

Ok... fine. Click on image to make it big enough to see, and then see square in upper left of napkin. I'm not sure how many calories are in it, but I'm sure it's way to many to use for clicker training, even if Zachary were skinny. Which he most definitely is not!

And so I cut the square into thirds, and those thirds in half, and those halves in half, until I get 12 little bitty treats. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to notice the miniscule size at all!

And that's it. That's all I was going to say.

Except tonight, as I was cutting up treats yet again, I happen to see the "cookie jar" sitting on the counter (behind the kitchen table) and I started to wonder just how many cookie containers I had.

And so I started counting:

1. The "Come Inside" cookies, on the kitchen counter

2. The "We're Leaving" cookies, by the front door.

3. The "Sofa Cookies", where I take many of those "dark background" shots

4. The "Night-night Cookies", by the bed

5. Training Treats + Puppy Cookies, back in the kitchen

6. Mother Hubbard's Cupboard...

7. Vanilla Yogurt KONG, in the freezer

8. Kibble Containers, in the garage

... and my son said, "And you wonder why Zachary is fat?!"

(Obligatory Dog Photo, and a hint at what else needs teaching...)

Teaching Release/Drop

Dog Blog Post #158: This is in reponse to a question posted by lessonsfrom4legs...

Important Note: I've only done this with non-aggressive young puppies who simply want to play for fun. I you are dealing with aggression and/or resource-guarding issues, you should talk to a professional!

I've taught releasing a tug toy two different ways.

The first was to offer something in trade to get the puppy to release what it has. So it's tug-tug-tug, have a cookie! tug-tug, here's a different toy! tug-tug-tug.

You need to make the original thing go "dead" and be boring (but don't let go) as you show off your new offering until the puppy releases what it has. Then you either give them the treat -and- immediately start tugging again, or immediately beginning tugging with the new toy if that's what you offered.

The puppy the learns that releasing not only gets them the new thing (treat/toy) but it also makes the game start up again. Keeping ahold of the old toy is boring and gets them neither play nor the new thing.

While that method worked, what I found was that Beau remained in an excited state the whole time, simply shifting his energy from one rewarding item to another. While that's not necessarily bad, it wasn't quite what I was after - especially with Beau!

My favorite approach, which I switched to with Beau and used with all three puppies after I found I didn't like the one above, is to tug-tug-tug, and then stop dead. Keep ahold of the tug toy with your primary hand, preferably right up near the puppy's muzzle. With your other hand, gently cup the puppy under the chin, gently wrapping your fingers toward their mouth for stability but don't press!


You are not trying to pry the mouth open!

Picture yourself holding a raw egg in one hand on a roller-coaster ride.

And then you simply wait.

Eventually, the puppy will (at least mine did!) decide this is boring, and start to release. Be patient, sometimes it takes a while for them to decide this. Sometimes it takes even longer for them to get their teeth loose!

Once they start to open their mouths, I might shift the toy a little to help get it free, especially if their teeth seem to be stuck. I want to work with my puppy, "Here, let me help you!" and often they really do seem to want to let go and can't quite do it!

As soon as the tug toy is free, return to a wild and fun tug-tug-tug session for a minute or two. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

The purpose of the hand under the chin is three-fold. One, it helps steady the puppy so they are less likely to flop around/flip over to try to keep the game going. Two, it seems to help the release part, although I can't exactly say why. Perhaps a calming influence? And three, it turns into the physical cue to open their mouths.

It's important to be totally calm, quiet, and very boring. The instant you feel them start to open (yet another advantage to the hand under the chin) you can quietly praise/give encouragement to let them know they on on the right track!

The first few times took the longest, but after that they quickly caught on.

Very soon (a day or two) I find just putting my hand under their chin is enough to prompt them to release. At that point I add my "Drop" verbal cue.

I like this method better because of the "pause" this inserts into playing. I think it's important for a puppy to learn to calm down when excited, and you can visibly see them doing so as they are releasing the toy.

This is different than the drop and snatch that occurs with the first method, where they are focusing and getting rev-ed up for the new item before they even release the old. With the second method, there is nothing exciting for them to focus on, so their intensity level naturally drops.

Releasing/dropping a tug toy is a critical skill for me, and one of the first taught to my puppies, because of my long hair. It is usually braided and reaches my waist, creating a natural and quite irresistible tug toy.

This makes me highly motivated to teach this skill, and gives me plenty of opportunities to do so!

This also brings me very close to the puppy (ie: his face is usually inches from mine as he's clutching my braid) which is another reason why having one hand near the muzzle holding my braid (between his jaws and my face) and the other under his chin (to discourage flopping/rolling) are important to me. It's also why calming things down is so important!

As always, your mileage may vary, every puppy is different, different breeds behave in different ways, don't try it if it seems like a bad idea in your situation, etc. etc. etc...

Why Puppy Class

Zachary as a puppy

Dog Blog Post #144: This post is in response to Magnus’ mom’s Puppy Class question in her blog post The Issue of Puppy Class. Tenses of her questions have been converted to present tense to apply to Henry’s current class.

Do you do a puppy class? Yes! Beau did puppy class in a large group setting with a positive but more traditional approach (owners marching around the building in circles while the instructor called out sit, heel, sit, heel, about turn!…) while Zachary had the same class/instructor Henry has now with much smaller sizes, clicker-training, individual attention, and no marching (for which I am forever grateful, Wendy!)

What benefits do you feel it provides for your 4legged puppy?

• Socialization with “trainable” people and puppies under an instructors watchful eye. I can’t overstate that one!!!
• Opportunities to show holes in training – it’s easy to either focus too heavily on the disaster areas and miss out on things that should be taught, or focus too heavily on the successful areas and sweep problem spots under the rug.
• Opportunities to try out shiny new behavior in a hopefully supportive but definitely more challenging environment.

What benefit do you find for yourself as handler? A chance to get fresh ideas and fresh perspectives. It’s also useful to listen to the other owners and take a few moments to assess their puppies. For example, hearing others bemoan their puppies housebreaking skills (or lack thereof) made me feel all warm and glowy about Henry, while seeing how calmly the 10 week old lab lay by his owners made me realize I still have a long way to go on that front.

What would you recommend in looking for a new puppy class? If possible, I’d try to attend a class to see if I agree with the instructor and their approach. At best, this would be one of the previous sessions classes, before the session my puppy would be enrolled in. If not, then I would like to talk to the instructor and see if their philosophy is not incompatible with mine. Possible questions include:

• Is this a positive (non-punitive) class? Food is required, clicker-training a plus but not mandatory, so long as the instructor doesn’t mind if I discretely use one.
• Is there play time? That’s a large part of why I go, so the answer had better be yes. A puppy needs to meet a variety of its own kind, and at that age it’s hard to do that outside a class setting.
• How is play time handled? A free-for-all, where all puppies are released to mug-and-be-mugged at will can’t possibly be good. Wendy has 8 puppies and made three groups of them, mostly by temperament and boldness, it seemed. I image that as the weeks progress, there is a good chance we will get down to two groups. Last time, with Zachary, she cycled the bolder (but not mugging) puppies into the area with the less bold puppies. Zachary fell into the bolder-not-mugging category, and he (on leash, to level the playing field) learned he had to be calmer and quieter if he was going to find a play companion. The shyer, smaller dogs saw that not all bigger dogs are bullies.
• How many puppies in the class? I don’t actually know what a good number would be. Like kids in a classroom, the more you get relative to the number of instructors, the greater the potential for chaos and result in a lack of learning. But you also have more puppies to mix-and-match playmates with, should the instructor choose to.
• What do you cover? In addition to the usual sit/down/come, a puppy instructor should go over, or at least encourage questions about, home-life (house-training, mouthing, jumping, … etc.)

Are you pro puppy class or do you feel you can provide similar lessons at home? I am pro puppy class, and think it is virtually impossible to provide similar lessons at home. However, if you have raised a puppy before and are familiar/comfortable with puppy growth stages, have trainable friends willing to help work on greeting skills, know some puppy-tolerant adult dogs to remind puppy that manners are important, and feel you will be able to face those teenage years without a shoulder to cry on, then you can probably do quite a bit yourself, with the glaring except of puppy play time.

If you do, how? The hardest part (other than finding appropriate doggie friends) is probably finding people who will help your efforts to socialize instead of hindering them. At least in puppy class the instructor tells everyone what to do, and everyone has a vested interest in being a good socializer. The General Public just wants to pet the puppy, play with the puppy, get the puppy wound up!

So, in summary, a Good Puppy Class is a Very Good Thing, but good luck finding one!

I Am Trainer...

Dog Blog #119: I Am Trainer, Hear Me.. Complain?

Problem: I want to read my book (The Focused Puppy) but I don't want to turn on the light as it is hot outside, nice inside, and I really really want to stay that way.

Solution: Read near a non-sunny therefore open-blinded window.

Problem: I have no chairs near the open-blinded window.

Solution: Stretch out on the floor and read my book.

Problem: Zachary finds this to be a Very Interesting behavior on my part, and stands next to me panting (as his appraisal of the house temperature seems to vary from mine) and dripping the occasional drip of drool off the tip of his tongue, which Murphy's Law decrees must land on my new book.

Every time.

Solution: Push the dog away.

Failed.

Solution: Cue the dog away (Out!)

Failed.

Solution: Explain (in English, of course) how I don't want to read a drippy-wet book.

Failed.

... but wait! I'm a dog trainer, right?

Solution: Whip out mat, place next to my spot, grab a bowl of cookies, and go back to reading my book.

Dog stands over me, next me, next to the bowl, drips on the bowl, sniffs at my hand, noses the clicker (not actually used in the exercise but along for the ride) and finally lays (un-cued) on mat.

Good dog! Here, have a cookie.

Dog sees arrangement as mutually beneficial, and stays on mat.

Good dog! Here, have another cookie.

... and so, every time I turned the page, the dog got a cookie.

Results: Me happy, dog happy!

I am trainer, hear me say "Good Dog!"

Posing for Pictures

My Clik-Stik

Dog Blog Post #98: I had a Flash of Brilliance a week or so ago. I know, that sounds like bragging - and it is. But as I only have such flashes every decade or two, I'm hoping you'll let it slide.

What was my moment?

I bought a Clik-Stik.

Ok, I know what you are thinking. Consumerism is hardly brilliance, and you would be right...

EXCEPT...

Look down at the little green ball... down at the ball...

I didn't really buy it for the reason it was being sold.

You see, I love taking pictures of my boys (and no, I don't think any of them are particularly brilliant... the pictures, that is. I think the boys are quite brilliant, but they came that way and there is little for me to take credit for on that front.)

Back to the Clik-Stik.

The topic of clickers and clicking came in the Training Levels Group a few weeks back (yeah, I know, a real shocker) and someone mentioned that it actually worked and held up well. I had seen it in our local pet store, was mighty suspicious of its durability, was really happy with my I-Click (and I still am), so up until then I had passed it by.

But then I had my Flash of Brilliance.

Look over Mom's head at the little green ball...

It was about the time I was trying to take Yet Another Posed Picture of my boys, and I was doing the usual juggling act with treats in one hand, a clicker in another, a squeaker in the third...

Excuse me?

... and therein lay the problem, the solution for which constitutes my Flash of Brilliance.

You see, as I was idling thinking about the Clik-Stik it dawned on me that I might be able to teach the boys to stare at the little green ball on the end.

Look right at the little green ball... right at the ball...

(Aside to makers of the Clik-Stik: I don't think dogs can actually see green very well. Next time, try yellow or blue - or perhaps even a checkerboard of both.)

And so I bought it, and sure enough, with practically no effort, I was able to teach the dogs to not touch the ball on the end (the intended purpose) but rather stay put and just look at it.

It was amazing.

I tried it out for the first time (non-training) on the Artist photo for the Training Challenge post (notice the boys looking off in the distance) then played around with it some more tonight.

Look left at the the little green ball... left at the ball...

See them looking away from me... away from the camera. Yup, just out of sight is the little green ball at the end of my Clik-Stik.

Amazing.

Don't you just love when a Flash of Brilliance actually works?

(Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with the Clik-Stik, other than being a very customer.)

Cheating

I have a confession to make: I think I might have cheated on one of my dogs' tests.

I don’t think it’s because I’m a dishonest person… at least I hope that’s not the problem. There is certainly nothing to be gained by cheating, nor is there anything lost by failing to cheat. My dogs are “just” family members, will never be certified to be or do anything, will never enroll in anything demanding references, and will never have to produce a transcript. I have no deadlines to meet and no clients waiting.

And yet the nagging feeling that I did something not quite right remains.

When I’m ready to test my dogs, the usual routine is to pull out the video camera, set it up, and then look over my notes one last time to make sure I know what I’m testing. The night in question it was “Distance”. I like to test first and then teach new things, as I figure that way my students are showing they know the test item(s) “cold”.

So far, so good.

That night I turned on the camera, grabbed some treats, and walked to the test site with the plastic cone I was going to use for that test. My selected student (Beau in this case - Beau always goes first) followed me with rapt attention. I took a nice deep breath, looked meaningful at my dog (who appeared ready as he was looking back up at me) and then I pointed one arm at the cone. Beau trotted right over and touched it with his nose.

Hmmm… I guess he wasn’t ready after all. I went back and turned off the camera and then turned it on again. (Movie making Tip of the Day: HD cameras are great, but it takes forever on my older computer to load the large files they make into iMovie. To save time, I try to keep those files as small as possible, and thus the restart of the camera.)

Take Two.

Back to the test site I went, another deep breath, dog seated, and I suddenly had a light bulb moment. I held my arms still, looked meaningfully at my student (once again looking up at me) and I said “Around!” Beau dutifully got up, trotted around the cone, and returned.

Success!!!

Or was it? At the time, I rationalized that it was. I told myself I had simply not realized which part of the command (signal or voice) Beau actually knew. That particular test required just one cue, and I had just guessed poorly which one to give. It had been a while since we last worked on it, and it’s not like I gave any additional hints or tuition. I played with it a bit, mixing up sits and downs and arounds - just to be sure he wasn’t guessing - and he was perfect.

Fine. Life is too short; time is too fleeting, time to move on…

It was now Zachary’s turn. I started right off with the word “Around!” - not going to catch me making the same mistake twice. Zachary immediately ran over, touched the cone with his nose, and hurried back.

Ever have one of those days?

It turns out Take Two was perfect. I pointed toward the cone and Zachary zipped around it. It was one cue, and one cue only; it just so happened that he preferred a signal to Beau’s verbal cue. That’s when I remembered that Zachary had made that very same “mistake” a few months back when I was first teaching this (and I even showed it in my 10 Reasons video. D’oh!) I again played with it a bit, mixing things up with sits and downs, and after that initial hiccup he was perfect.

So chalking it up to me being a horrible instructor, I crossed Distance off my list. Woo Hoo!

Which brings us at last to the topic of this post: As I looked through my footage awaiting compilation into a movie, I began to wonder if what I did was, in fact, cheating? I found myself wondering how many other times I have dismissed initial failure as “dog wasn’t ready” or “I didn’t do the test right.” I’m really not sure. I can’t think of any off-hand, but with as many videos as I’ve taken and the ease with which I justified the above, I have to concede to the possibility that there might be more. I rarely keep the original clips once the movies are finished so there is no way to know for sure.

In the grand scheme of things, of course, none of this really matters. The Zachary Canine Curriculum Certification Committee (uh, that would be me) isn’t going to take my license away, my dogs aren’t going to have their names splashed across newspapers or be brought up for disciplinary action.

But it does sort of defeat the purpose of tracking progress if you aren’t going to bother to do so accurately.

So, I decided it was time to take a stand. I am now instigating the One Take rule for all tests. Barring the camera falling over or my pants falling down, I am going with whatever the first take is. If success, Woo Hoo! If failure, then I shall have to try again another day.

For the curious, this week’s Weekly Worksheet is now posted, offering many opportunities to test my resolve.

Let’s hope I pass.

One Size Fits All

I made a rookie teaching error this last week. Well, I’d like to think it was a rookie error, although truth be told I’ve been in (bad) dog classes where the instructor has made the same mistake.

It began innocently enough. The task was to get Zachary to stand right in front me with his nose pointing straight toward me and his tail pointing straight away (Sue Ailsby’s Training Levels Three - Front) Simplicity itself, right?

Right.

We began in the usual way. I stood in the kitchen with a clicker in one hand and bunch of treats in the other. I then visualized the final product (Zachary as a compass needle) and tossed a treat behind me to get things started.

While Zachary dug around under the cabinets for his morsel, I refined my mental picture a bit. I was now standing on an imaginary line running left to right. As soon as Zachary crossed that line while heading back to my front I would click and treat. Sure enough, after Hoovering up the first cookie and find no others, Zachary came trotting around to see what was up. As soon as his feet crossed my imaginary line I clicked and tossed another tidbit behind me.

We repeated this for a while with excellent results. Once I could see he was really hooked on the game, I bent my mental line at my feet, reducing his 180 degrees of success to about 120 degrees. No problems. When he didn’t come around far enough and I didn’t click, he just took another step – “Hey Mom… Hellooooooo… anybody up there?” Click. Treat… we were doing great so I called it night. Might as well end on an up note.

The next day I decided to changes things up a bit. Same goal, of course, Zachary as a compass needle, but now I was tossing the treat behind him instead of behind me. I was hoping this would keep his body straight vs. wrapping around my leg like some furry, carnivorous vine.

Worked like a charm, he came in straight as an arrow. I figured I’d be videoing this one in no time.

On day three I got fancy and turned a bit so I could toss the treats off to the side. Yes, I did try it the first time without turning and ended up on my hands and knees digging a pea-sized dog treat out of the fridge grill. Ewww.

So canted slightly sideways with respect to my kitchen, I tossed the treat to the side and waited for Zachary to return. I kept my 120-degree requirement from before (60 degrees either side of front, dead center) and held off clicks until he was within my imaginary angle. He was now shifting around a bit to the find the “sweet spot”  (see Ten Seconds and the cosmic trap door.) When his location was within my imaginary lines I would click, treat, and toss the cookie off to the side. From there I gradually started reducing my 120 degress to “move” him right in front of me. Sue’s instructions were quite clear on this point. I was–to click while the dog is in motion. In fact, here’s what she says:

“and it will be MUCH better if you click while [he’s] still in motion than if you wait until [he] stops”

And thus I made my rookie mistake. I neglected to consider my student when applying the instructions. Now had I been working with Beau, those instructions would have been dead on accurate. Clicking while Beau was stationary (or heaven forbid seated) would have created a nearly impossible to budge statue in short order.

But as my good instructor is forever reminding me, Zachary is not Beau. And so, while I thought I was teaching Zachary to move increasingly closer to front, what I was actually taught him was that shifting a little bit this way and a little bit that was what Mom wanted.

Before I knew it, I had dog that would NOT stand still. He tiptoed to the left, sashayed to the right, one step forward and two steps back.

Sue summed it best when she labeled him “Dancing Zachary”. Arg!!! I just wanted to Velcro his paws to floor. So it was back to the drawing board.

The new improved (Zachary specific) criterion is now standing STILL. Perfectly STILL. Like a rock STILL. So long as he is within about 30 degrees of center either way, and STILL, I click. A straight on front gives him a jackpot.

Just the other night I was standing in front of the TV, awaiting the pasta to boil, having just cut up some Jarlsberg cheese. Zachary loves Jarlsberg cheese.

When what to my wondering eyes did I see

But my Zachary, standing STILL as a tree.

He had come from the side - swung his rump right around

‘Till perfectly fronted, not a fault to be found!

And he heard me exclaim as I ran for the cheese,

“Stay right there, don’t you move, let me film this now – please!”

Merry Christmas!

Getting off the Sofa

I find the hardest part about Homeschooling my dogs is getting off the sofa.

I don’t mean getting my dogs off the sofa. That’s easy. Even if they didn’t know the word “off” (which they do) or understand what it means when I point (which they do) the telltale rattling of the treat jar would bring them running. The telltale rattle of their leashes also brings them running. In fact, the telltale rattling of just about anything brings them running.

( Well, anything but the glass jar I keep the almonds in. Having decided almonds are not a food item, the almond container – and any sounds that emanate from it – is of no interest to them whatsoever. )

Where was I?  Oh yes, lounging on the sofa.

The sofa isn’t a problem when you have to go to a class. For one thing, there’s the embarrassment factor. If you don’t practice during the week then the following week everybody is going to know. Oh sure, they’re going to pretend they don’t see. They’re going to act like they are too busy keeping Spike from peeing on somthing or Killer from attacking other dogs to notice, but you know they know and of course the instructor is certainly going to know. 

Then there is the financial aspect. Having spent $100+ on a six week class (compare to $26/unit at the local JC or $78 for a typical 3 unit class) I feel some at least some sense of obligation to do my homework.

There is also a lot less responsibility when you are in a class. There is nothing to plan for or schedule, no notes or thoughts to organize. In fact, as far as I can tell, a sofa is of no use whatsoever when you are enrolled in someone else’s class.

That isn’t true when you are in charge of your own dog’s education. In fact, not that long ago I was snuggled on the sofa moving my Middle School curriculum into PowerPoint (it looks so much prettier there.) And just before that, I was tweaking my strategy (again) for preparing for the Canine Good Citizen Test. I spent one whole evening constructing that beauty. I bet you can't guess where.

You see, the wonderful thing about being on the sofa is that everything I create there holds such promise. It’s like springtime when you buy those little potted plants and stuff them in the ground. The future may contain drought, or snails, or puppy dog tails, but for one, brief shining moment, that portion of the yard is beautiful.

The same is true for plans made on the sofa. In fact, as long as I stay on the sofa, I can imagine a world where fronts are always straight, stays are never broken, and I am finally more interesting than dirt.

Once I get off the sofa and put my plans into action, I know things will invariably begin to crumble. Skills I had counted on will have somehow evaporated, bad habits (usually mine) will make things harder than they should be, and unrealistic expectations will become apparent.

Meanwhile, as I contemplate whether it’s better to have taught and failed then to never have taught at all, my dogs lie about awaiting education, no doubt wondering what it takes to get me off the sofa.

Ten Seconds

Happy days! Zachary stared at me for ten whole seconds on Friday! Woo Hoo!!!

I’m sensing a lack of enthusiasm on your part. I know, ten seconds doesn’t sound very long, so what’s the big deal, right? Would it help if I said it was the last item left in Sue Ailsby’s Training Levels Two? How about if I added that it took us three weeks of training, ten video sessions, and over 900 seconds of video of him NOT looking at me for ten seconds in a row before I finally got those ten seconds? That despite a weeklong self-imposed moratorium I put on videoing part way through. It was just too depressing.

It’s not that nothing was done during those minutes. Oh on… in fact, “doing” was sort of the problem. During that time he must have done a hundred sits and downs. He did a fair bit of spinning (both left and right) and even tried bowing. He is darn cute when he bows, but that was not what I wanted.

All I wanted him to do was look at me – for ten seconds.

We started out easy – with an eye flick toward me. Click. Treat. How hard could this be? I think we got to two seconds within a day or so, but that was it. As soon as we hit the two-second mark he was off doing something. He brought me toys, touched imaginary things on the ground, and tried to get me to play tug.

After all, this was training time. The whole point was to DO something, right?

So we started over with an eye flick, then one second, then two, and then he would start doing something again – maybe walk around a chair, bob his head, or nudge my hand with nose.

At some point he gave up on me altogether and nudged the clicker in my hand. I’m convinced he was trying to make it click on his own. Perhaps he thought the click itself summoned the treats, or caused some cosmic trap door to open and release its bounty. He’s very into the magic of training.

Back to an eye flick, then one second, then two, and then he decided that the problem must be where he was standing. He tried inching forward, tried walking backward, and even tried moving from side to side. Sometimes he moved a lot, sometimes just a paw. It was like he was searching for some hidden trigger in the floor (back to that cosmic trap door theory.)

Never has so much been done when so little was required.

In contrast, it took Beau about ten seconds to learn the task. Beau’s default behavior – what he does when he doesn’t know what else to do – is first to freeze, and then bark. Since he freezes for more than 10 seconds (just in case I change my mind and give him the cookies anyway) this was as easy skill to teach. I’d stand there and look at him. He’d freeze and look up at me (probably praying for cookies from heaven) and after ten seconds a click would occur, his prayers would be answered, and the cookies would fall.

Beau could do this all day.

Zachary’s default behavior is to lie down (so far so good) then sit up (not ideal, but not a problem so long as he is still looking at me) then lie down (we are now at the two second mark)… and then try everything else he can think of. He could have crammed every trick he knows into those ten seconds, and he knows a fair number of tricks. It was just beyond his comprehension that all I wanted him to do was nothing.

We got there eventually; one second at a time, one day at a time, one week at a time, and I really think he has it down. I sure hope so. The next level requires him to look at me for triple that time. Thirty seconds - just think of all the things he could do.