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I enjoy earning titles with my dogs – that should not be a surprise to anyone who knows me. One of the trick dog organizations I’ve been working with is Do More With Your Dog. Trick training can be extremely beneficial in a number of different ways, which I write about in other posts. I often suggest trick training as an enriching activity to clients. 

But I’ve had a bit of a mental block about one aspect of DMWYD. They also offer “specialty titles” some of which are available for a limited time and require very little to earn the title. Now some of the entry level titles that I’ve earned are pretty easy, too. I justify that by saying this is just the foundation for more advanced titles. Seems like these specialty titles are a bit of a money grab, so I don’t pay much attention to them. I’ve got more important things to train.

The other week I came face to face with my prejudice. I’ve been working with a client for many months now. When we started, her dog could barely walk to the end of the block because of his severe anxiety and reactivity. It’s been slow, but they’ve been able to get around the block and occasionally even a second block. At our most recent lesson, she shared that not only did they earn a trick dog title, they also earned a title for walking a total of five kilometers – by walking OVER A MILE at a time! It’s the farthest her dog has ever been able to go, and they did it three days in a row. They worked hard and deserve that title. For them, this was the culmination of almost a year of work, and they’re not stopping.

I am more proud of them for earning a title I used to think was pointless than I am of my own dogs’ titles. They did something she never thought they’d be able to do. It’s not about the number of titles, or about what the title is. It’s about the mountains you climbed. 

Pippin officially has two titles now: Novice Trick Dog through Do More With Your Dog, and Trick Dog Novice through the AKC. 

I’m a title hound and enjoy both training the tricks and checking off the boxes towards a goal. So I want to earn titles with Pippin as well. Certain titles aren’t going to be possible – he won’t be a good choice for an agility dog with his disabilities. And I’ve accepted that he won’t be a disc dog. But deaf dogs can compete in plenty of sports.

Obviously, nose work is a logical choice. Even deaf and fully blind dogs are allowed to compete in AKC nose work trials. We’re working on that. I’d love to get back into tracking, and that will depend on how well he handles the uneven terrain and working at a further distance from me. Trick training is another favorite of mine. I love the variety of tricks that are available to choose from through both the above listed organizations, so there’s no problem finding tricks that he’s able to learn and perform. The virtual options for earning titles means we can do these while still working through his anxiety and reactivity when away from home.  We’ll be finishing up his Virtual Home Manners titles, and are working on the Fit Dog ones as well. 

There will be adaptations needed, and there are ways of cueing that don’t require him to hear or see well – tactile cues, my body position and movement near him, making sure any hand signals are given close to his face, vibration, air movement. I already use a foot stomp to call him inside when he’s under the porch. And I’m experimenting with using a “look-stick” when I need to lure him from a distance. It’s a long target stick with a tasty bit of food on the end, usually used to direct a dog’s attention during photo shoots. 

I’ve also been attending the International Seminar: Deaf, Blind, and Amazing series of webinars over the last month. The experience of so many other talented trainers has blown my mind! They’ve dealt with everything from problem behaviors arising from their dogs’ disabilities to competing at a high level in multiple sports. 

Pippin doesn’t consider his deafness or vision impairment to be a disability. And it doesn’t impede his rambunctious play, or his ability to learn, or accomplish tasks and activities. It’s my job to figure out how to communicate in a richer and more nuanced way. 

The titles, those are for me.    

Sept 25, 2023

Before Pippin joined me, I seriously considered whether or not to use a vibration collar, and some of my clients with deaf dogs do use them. I’m glad I decided not to go that route. 

I mean, it seems like a logical solution, and works well for a great number of deaf dog owners. A deaf dog won’t hear you calling, and who knows just how intriguing that scent is that’s pulling him further into the woods, off the trail, or just around the corner of the yard. And dog parks are ubiquitous even in small towns, so off-leash play in a secure environment is possible. There can be good reasons to choose a vibration collar.

Pippin is a three-year-old double merle Australian shepherd. Double merles aren’t always deaf, or blind, but the chances are a lot higher. Pippin was born completely deaf, and has limited sight. He can see very close up, but I have no idea how acute his vision really is. He can’t see much at all when coming in from outside, or when the lighting changes. He can’t see the treats I drop on the floor. He is good about the stairs in the house but can’t see the doorframe of an unfamiliar entrance or when to step off the curb on a walk. And more than once, he’s run into the open dishwasher door. 

But because a dog is deaf doesn’t mean a vibration collar is necessary. Let me take you through my reasons. 

Number one is aesthetics. And the explanations. I don’t want a large box on his neck. It looks like a shock collar, and I don’t want to have to answer anyone, “No, it’s not a shock collar, it’s only a vibration collar because he can’t hear.” I don’t use or recommend shock collars, and don’t want to look like I’m using one just because he’s differently abled. 

Number two is because quite honestly I don’t want to worry about where the remote is. Obviously, if I used it regularly, the remote would be in a dedicated spot where I could easily grab it. That’s not the point. I don’t want another thing on my counter. Besides, even though I use my phone daily, nay hourly, I still misplace it occasionally.

Number three is that I don’t want to rely on a device which may be out of battery or not be working. There are other ways to call Pippin in or back to me. I feel that if I had such an easy device, I would not spend the time to develop our communication on a more personal level. 

Number four is my environment. I don’t need it where we live. The yard is fenced and there’s only one spot where he could be out of my sight. His favorite place to chill out, especially in the summer, is under the back porch landing, and he responds very reliably to me stomping on the floorboards above his head. I admit, he has slipped out of the yard twice in the past 14 months. Both times, I noticed within 3 or 4 minutes, and found him very close to the house – along the fence line or between the garage and the back porch, sniffing intensely. I don’t deny that with more time, he might wander further, but he’s not shown that inclination, even on walks. He can’t see the bunny running across his path, or hear the neighbor’s dog barking. If he got too far away, a vibration collar wouldn’t lead him home, nor could he see me to come from a distance.

My fifth reason is when we are off property, he is leashed. All my dogs are. Loose leash walking is a skill I insist on, and I make sure that leash walks do not restrict a dog’s exploration. We stop to sniff often and explore interesting routes to make walks a special adventure for the dogs. Pippin is reactive in unfamiliar situations, and it’s a continuing training focus for us, so leasing is mandatory. I can’t rely on a frightened Pippin to sniff me out and stay close. 

The next reason, number six, is Pippin himself. Over the months, he’s become comfortable hanging out in other parts of the house, and he’s content when I’m not at home. But when we’re in the same room, he’s keenly aware of where I am, usually touching me or lying on my feet. Unless he’s deep asleep, he wakes and follows me to the next room. When I’m in the back yard with him, he’s either right beside me or snoozing under the steps. His bond is very physical. Perhaps it’s an individual personality trait and perhaps it’s because that physical contact is how he communicates and knows where I am. He also keeps tabs on the other dogs when outside, and follows them in when I call. 

Number seven is training. Checking in often with me is a core behavior. Yes, training a deaf dog takes some modifications – I’ll write about that later this week – and this is our version of a hearing dog responding to their name. I don’t demand that he stay in physical contact, that’s his choice, but I pay well when he checks in with me. I get his attention with a foot stomp (also our recall cue), a light tap on his shoulder or rump, or waving my hand in front of his face. And of course, there’s always the aroma of pungent treats wafting through the air with the promise of one-on-one attention and training. We have a good history.

Would it be simpler to use a collar to get Pippin’s attention or actually as a recall cue, or to train a reliable check in and follow behavior? It’s impossible to say, but I far prefer to rely on our relationship and training. That would be necessary anyway if I did want to add a vibration collar. 

Could I treat a vibration collar as an emergency backup? Sure. But that use of a vibration collar, or any emergency cue, requires not less but MORE training. The very nature of an emergency cue requires fast, accurate, and immediate response. Most of the time, in everyday life, cueing “sit” a couple times is just fine. Training the vibration collar to an acceptable level of emergency response, and then keeping it clean and reliable, well, it would be time better spent building relationship and a stronger everyday cue response.  

I could also train one of the other dogs to go get him. I haven’t yet but I’ve considered it. 

Stevie Mathre

April 15, 2023

Sometimes it seems like things are getting worse and worse. Late storms and spring flooding. Inflation. Political maneuvering and legal consequences. Mass shootings. This week, a young man died from injuries received in a multiple dog attack in Minnesota.  

Some things have been reported.

There were four dogs involved. They were American pit bull terriers. 

The victim was not the owner. He was caring for the dogs at the time. 

The incident happened in the back yard of the victim’s home, which was not the dogs’ home.

But today is not a day for statistics about breeds, or tired slogans about training vs genetics. My intention isn’t to deflect attention from the tragedy in Brooklyn Center and for the people involved. It isn’t to point out the relatively small percentage of dog bites that result in serious injury or death, compared to the number of dogs in the US. And I’m not even blaming a 24-hour news cycle that relies on ratings for profit and therefore tends to sensationalize each headline. (At least not in this piece – I do believe there’s a significant connection between media sensationalism, social polarization, and higher stress levels… and therefore more violent reactivity. That’s for another day.) 

Basically, we’re all living in a constant state of high stress. So many incidents, so much worry, too much information, not enough answers… all lead to disordered reactions to events which may or may not directly involve us. We are affected. Our brains no longer have the opportunity to return to homeostasis. We’re in a constant state of emergency, even when we don’t feel it. 

Dezmond Trawick’s death IS tragic. And we’re programmed to demand information about what happened. We’re wired to want to act. 

But we simply don’t know. Don’t know what happened, what triggered those dogs. Or what Dezmond did. 

And we CAN’T know. That’s tough to accept. Even if somehow there was information about every word, every motion, every fact leading up to the dogs’ attack and beyond, we STILL WOULDN’T KNOW. Behavior is complex, intertwining with one’s history, physical condition, relationships with others (inter- and intra-specific), what one felt about their breakfast or who won the last game of fetch, and a million other things… 

There’s really no question that there will be specific consequences for those four dogs, for Dezmond’s family and friends, for the owners of the dogs. Let the systems already in place do their work.

For those of us on the outside of that circle, it can be uncomfortable to sit with uncertainty. Sick of thoughts and prayers, we’re used to yelling at the television “Just _____ DO SOMETHING!” It’s not the time, when emotions are churned up, to demand intemperate actions or sweeping edicts. We don’t know the true circumstances and can’t know why. 

It is uncomfortable to embrace uncertainty. But in uncertainty is the mystery of us, of relationships, of communication succinct and garbled, of complex emotions, and of pain and of joy. 

The mystery of a relationship with another species takes flight despite tragedies. And perhaps it is because of the uncertainty which sometimes seems so unbearable, that mystery makes it so much more bearable. In the uncertainty is also joy, the comfort of soft fur, a wet tongue, a heartbeat next to ours. 

So if our system built and grown over the years needs fixing, by all means work to accomplish that… with a level head and acceptance of those things we can’t fully comprehend. 

Yes, sometimes dogs bite. Sometimes they attack. There’s a lot to learn, to improve, to serve both people and pets in mutual safety and welfare. A lot we’ll never know. And yet we still choose to live with them. And they still chose to wag their tails. 

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton