Talking With Dogs

As I am moving back into my role as teacher, not only through the upcoming Tricks class at Borderhauss Kennels but as a certified CATCH trainer mentor, I'm realizing how much nonverbal actions and consequences go into my daily routines.  My thoughts are constantly on reinforcing behaviors that I like, eliminating ones I don't like.  There are very few random treats I give my dogs.  I am in the mode of thinking that no cookie goes wasted.  I am, in essence, a training machine.

Til and Ms. Rip hanging out at Cindy's house.

 
While this might seem kind of sad, it puts communication on a whole new level.  I have had to reassess this, too, because now that I have my first border collie, I realize that I haven't made full use of the wonderful cognitive skills in dogs.  I no longer use the grunts and broken English reminiscent of an old Tarzan movie.  I use full sentences.  "Til, Nikita stole your toy and hid it in her cage.  You can find it in there.  Go get it out and bring it to me."

And he does.

I am talking to the border collie much more than I have to others, and the overflow extends to other dogs around him.

A few weeks ago, in house sitting for my friend Cindy while she was away, and caring for her two dogs, I was back to Square One.  The dogs, a Labrador named Nikita and a spaniel mix named Maggie, are both "amateurs" when it comes to the ever evolving "Bailey Method".  Nikita especially is completely clueless.  She is a big, tan, smiling, good-natured oaf, awkward and pushy in her affections.

I hold up a cookie.  "Sit," I tell her.  I KNOW she knows this cue.  She just stands there grinning, ears flattened, whipping her tail back and forth.

At this point, I have another revelation that with rescue dogs, and dogs who have been randomly reinforced, it is better not to talk.  Their lives are filled with meaningless noise.  They tune it out.  So I revert back to my old nonverbal ways and simply hold the cookie back over her head.  She sits. I toss the cookie and she clumsily snaps at it.

With Nikita I would be back to Tarzan Talk for a little while, using the barest of verbiage, while she begins to grasp all over again that language really does have meaning, and to listen intently for more complex instructions.  As she got to know me, she would eventually start to pay more attention.

Perhaps even more importantly, I would have to learn how to listen to her.

Dogs have a more difficult time, I think, when they are trying to tell us what's going on.  They are usually limited to body language and it comes out in something akin to a game of charades.  "Timmy fell down the well?" is a joke -- sort of.

I just finished a stint at the Reading Pet Expo in Pennsylvania, where Til and I performed our freestyle frisbee routine.  Luckily for me, Til is very adept at catching, which compensates for my lame throwing abilities. Add to this the fact that our routine is usually performed amidst the agility course, with the equipment providing a number of obstacles. During one of our shows yesterday, the frisbee fell down inside one of the hollow jump columns, which is about waist high and barrel shaped.  The audience erupted into laughter, but because I had pitched it from behind the high jump, I couldn't see where it had landed.  When I looked around the high jump, I saw Til running tight circles around the column -- clearly indicating where it was.

I don't think I could do that again if I tried!

Yesterday morning, while I was sitting on the hotel bed putting my shoes on, little Estephar the Chihuahua decided to attack me.  We were running late for the show, but I started wrestling with her anyway.  Til came over, picked up one of my shoes, and plopped it into my lap.

That time, again, the message was unmistakable.

As my friend Susan said, "At least there is one mature and responsible member in this family."

The Thinking Horse - Part 2

Ironically, I was investigating the subject already when something happened in the barn. Clifford, who often lets himself out of the stall if I leave the door unlatched, did so that day. I was busy with the water bucket, and didn't really mind. He often wanders loose around the backyard. There was a blizzard outside, though, and the snow was really piling up. Since I was down at the end of the aisle, I couldn't do much about it when I heard Trudy's hoofbeats clopping across the rubber mat on Clifford's floor. She had walked in through his open Dutch door, and then let herself out into the barn aisle. She took off out the door after him.

I had two loose horses in a blizzard, snorting in the cold and geeking each other up. I had been wondering just what goes through their little noggins anyway. In my online searching, I found out that there hadn't been much research done on the cognitive skills of horses -- but what I did find was no surprise.

I wrote this article about it for my hub.

Bird Toys

Thanks to Etsy.com, I found something for the bird who has everything. Goober the African Grey lives with my friend Debbie Hendrickson in Ohio. I had recently discovered Etsy, the site with things handmade, and took a chance. Sure enough, my search revealed bird toys -- and what a great deal I got! There are all kinds of wood and plastic chewies on rope with a bell on the bottom. I purchased this from XnO Bird Toys on Etsy.

It can't always be easy living with a parrot. I have always liked birds but have never taken on the responsibility of a large one. (I did have a parakeet once; a delightful little guy named Joshua.) I imagine it will happen someday.

I was saddened to hear of the death of Alex, the famous African grey who shattered all science's ideas about the limitations of the avian mind. Alex died in September of this year at the age of 31. He was emotionally equivalent to a two-year-old child (yikes!) and intellectually a five-year-old. He could identify 50 different objects, 7 colors, 5 shapes, quantities up to 6, and most astonishingly, knew the concept of zero.

Alex did math better than I can!

Dr. Irene Pepperberg spent 30 years working with Alex, and I can only imagine what it was like to lose him. Reportedly his last words to her were something like, "Goodbye. You be good. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

*gulp.* Sure makes me look at KFC a whole different way....