|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
||
Read more of Karen Fishler's dog diary columns  |
 |
 April
1, 1998 |dog, do
I've been thinking a lot lately about how we will work with our dog once he or she arrives. It stands to reason there will be things to teach him/her. For one thing, I'd like to do what Gail, the trainer who's helping us look for a dog, has done with her own dog. He has learned to ring a little bell when he needs to go outside for a toilet break. How civilized for all concerned! Also, we have a boat, and Gail assures us we can teach our dog to pee and poop into a pot, rather than having to laboriously row ashore, or walk to the landward end of the dock, every time nature calls. There was a time when I pictured using what is called "correction" in order to teach a dog. I was in the early-to-middle portion of my research phase where dogs are concerned and was reading books, and watching videotapes, by famous trainers who all seemed to use the leash-correction method. To alert the dog that he or she wasn't doing what the trainer wants, the human would administer a quick yank on the dog's leash, and thus on its collar. These were all terrific dog people. They were very effective with dogs — in some cases, almost miraculously so — and clearly loved the animals they worked with. I honestly didn't know there was another view where training was concerned, and maybe they didn't either. But it turns out there's been a quiet revolution in dog training. I first became aware of it during our first conversation with Gail. She referred to the correction training method with a graphic gesture: she put her hand up beside her neck and yanked on an imaginary leash, making a pained face as she did so. I immediately remembered reading about a dog trainer/writer named Vickie Hearne, who had presented the idea that, during a training session (indeed, in almost every situation), a dog is making choices about what to do. Gail agreed that that's the idea she works with, and referred also to research she's seen on dolphin training that has greatly influenced her. This all matches what I subsequently read in a fascinating book called Dog's Best Friend, by Mark Derr (more about this book in next month's column). Derr writes: A different way of thinking about dog training that emphasized positive reinforcement and behavior modification began to emerge from marine mammal training and human psychological research in the 1960s, picking up speed in the 1970s and 1980s as its graduates began winning competitions and excelling in detection work.
The positive-reinforcement method often uses food as a reward for behavior the trainer is seeking. I saw the value of this approach over the weekend, when my husband and I went to a shelter to see if we could find a dog to adopt. We saw one we found remarkable, and spent some time with him in the visiting area that every shelter has for people and their potential adoptees to use for "get-to-know" sessions. Brewster, an Australian Cattle Dog-German Shepherd Dog mix, turned out to be far more energetic than two quiet writers could really handle at home. But to find that out, we had to work with him some. At one point I sat in a chair off to the side and watched my husband try to teach Brewster to "down" on command. My husband has absolutely no experience training dogs. But it took no time for him to follow the example of the shelter staff person helping us, who had used food treats, stored safely out of reach above a lamp for just such occasions, to demonstrate how to reward a dog for learning a new behavior. Within minutes my husband had Brewster sitting reliably on command (well, all right, on a second or third command), and on one occasion, Brewster actually lay down. I wanted to applaud both of them.
Next time: The read dog |
