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“Frustration is the nagging feeling that tells us we are not listening or following our intuition.” – J.R. Incer I don't get frustrated very often, especially when I'm training dogs. My husband says that I have an infinite amount of patience...when I'm working with my dogs. Your dog is merely asking a question, and simply Piloting them is how you answer their question (learn about Piloting, and why it's better than traditional dog training, here). How long does it take for your dog to accept the answer? Depends on the question. If you have dinner at my house, I'll ask if you would like the salt and pepper. You may tell me that , no, you would like not like them, or yes, you would. Pretty easy question to accept the answer, right? You would either give me a positive or a negative. Obviously some questions are harder than others. Like my husband asking me where I want to go for dinner. Essentially it's about 2 hours of us shooting down each other's ideas until we both die of starvation. The hardest questions are ones that require the most money from that Piloting Piggy Bank. See, asking if you want salt is maybe a $.50 question. Almost anyone can cover that amount. But some questions are harder to accept the answer to, and you might get a case of what I call the "Are You Sures". You may see this on a walk with your dog, especially if they are reactive to other dogs. You may answer your reactive dog's question, (no, the dog across the street isn't a threat) but there's no reason your dog will accept that answer immediately, especially if this is the first time you've ever Piloted your dog and actually answered their question, rather than placated/bribed/manhandled your dog past the situation. That dog across the street is a $20 question, and you've only got $15 in your Piloting Piggy Bank, so when you do answer your dog's question, there's a deficit. And dog's don't take credit cards, so you have to pay that up front. How do you get that money to cover the tab? By answering more questions in general. However, here and right now, your beloved Chihuahua/Jack Russell Terrier/Mastiff mix is going full throttle nuts over that other dog, you need to answer the immediate question your dog is asking: Are we going to die? And that's a pretty big question. Your Frankenmutt is going to have a tough time with that deficit in the Piloting Piggy Bank, hence you've got a case of the Are You Sures. And since this is such a big ticket item, it's going to take a bit of Piloting to get them to finally accept that answer. Your dog is anxious about the other dog. And you need that money right now (learn how to get past the situation in this post). The textbook definition of anxiety is fear of the unknown (the other dog in this case). "Is that dog a threat? Not a threat? Are they going to kill all of us, or just me? Am I big enough to protect you and me? What if he hurts my mommy?" These are all the questions that are going through your dog's head. And until they are answered and paid for, your dog will go bananas at that other dog. That's why I'm always communicating with your dog during our training session. I see so many unanswered questions your dog has from the moment I walk through your door, (usually starting with, "Who the fuck are you?!"). But by starting to sift through those questions, a snowball effect happens. The first question I get them to accept the answer to bring me money into the Piloting Piggy Bank so I can answer the next one more easily, and so on and so forth. It's pretty cut and dry in my eyes, and therefore not a source of frustration. Sometimes I simply don't have the money to pay for an answer, and I know I'm going to be locked into a Q & A for quite a little while. But I've been working with dogs for a very long time. So long ago that the first dog I trained wasn't even a dog: they were all still wolves. Actual footage of my very first puppy session. I'm the pretty one. So I'll bet you're wondering why I've been on my soapbox, ranting about never getting frustrated when working with dogs. Great, Kerry, you don't get frustrated ...how is that supposed to help me?! But I never said I don't get frustrated. I just stated I don't get frustrated with dogs. I actually get frustrated quite easily. So let's break it down: How I Deal with Frustration Typically, frustration is what happens when there is either a break in communication, or a gap in knowledge. “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” - Maya Angelou Very recently I had the most lovely training session with a couple and their dog, Chloe. They were open to learning more so they could do better, and in the end, I think that they are going to truly shine through for Chloe, and guide her through her anxieties by answering her questions. They just didn't know how to handle her reactions to people coming to the door, the random barking problem, or her behavior on a leashed walk. By filling in the gaps in their knowledge (namely, how to communicate with Chloe), they were able to do better, and end the frustration. They understand better now because they actively sought out new information. In other words, I Piloted them, and answered their questions until they were able to Pilot Chloe. What a beautiful, wonderful cycle. Obviously, Chloe will never be allowed back into the Piloting position during walks or when answering the door, and she's fine with that! She never wanted to Pilot those situations to begin with, so it was a relief to have someone finally Pilot her through those stressful situations. Chloe's family was my third session that day, and I frequently am exhausted after training so many dogs, but I was energized. I truly love my job, and all the wonderful people I meet. I got into my truck to leave their session with a feeling accomplished. Until I put the key in the ignition and my beloved truck, Matilda, wouldn't start. Full sized Silverado, stuck in your client's driveway after a session on a late Saturday afternoon the day before Easter. Yeah, not my best moment. Now, I know nothing about tinkering with a truck. I'm smart enough to know what I don't know. But what I did know was one thing: Now I could have chosen to panic. Why wouldn't my truck start? How am I going to get Matilda out of their driveway? Did I accidentally trap my clients in their driveway? How long would it take to get a tow truck in there? Frustration due to lack of information could have been a very real issue right here. And nobody acts rational when they're frustrated. So I went back to my client's front door, rang the bell, and explained what was going on. Immediately, after finding out what happened, Chloe's owner Tim wanted to go take a look at Matilda. He asked me a few questions, and based on what he was asking, I immediately realized he was a better Pilot for this situation than I would be. He dove under Matilda's hood, and starting making a racket in there. Tim's wife Rebecca came out of her house and sat with me on the porch, where we had a wonderful conversation about everything and nothing. She admitted that she didn't know anything about trucks, and wasn't much of a help in that department, but that Tim had been a mechanic in the Army. She felt confident he'd figure it out. 20 minutes later, he did. He performed some magic spell on Matilda, and she roared into life, much to my surprise. I asked him what he did. "I Piloted her", he said, smirking. Turns out it was the starter was mildly warped, and he was able to temporarily fix it so I could get it to the mechanic. She's since fully repaired, and I'm back on the road. So let's break that scenario down as to how it pertains to your dog. In this situation, I was clearly in over my head. I knew enough to know that the problem wasn't the battery, but beyond that, I was lost. Fortunately I had someone who was definitely an amazing Pilot who was able to resolve the situation. But do you always need an amazing Pilot? . When your dog is overwhelmed with anxiety over what's going to happen, be a Pilot. A good Pilot is better than no Pilot. The one who's answered so many other questions, and handled so many other situations, that it just seems natural to allow them to handle the current situation. Do you have to be perfect? No. As Voltaire stated, don't let the perfect be the enemy of good. Your dog doesn't need a perfect Pilot. They need a good Pilot. And that is you. Even when you get frustrated. Remember, frustration is either a break in knowledge or communication. Nobody, not the your dog, your broken truck, not even the universe is against you; it's merely going after it's own agenda. So let's fix the frustration. Understand Your Dog's Information Gaps Don't ever be afraid of the phrase, "I don't know". It's an empowering phrase, because if stated correctly, means you've researched your own knowledge, and the answer isn't there. I'm not omnipotent, and thankful I'm not. I'm allowed to have a limit to my knowledge, even though I'm always growing and learning. In the situation with Matilda, I was beyond my knowledge, so I could legitimately say that I didn't know what to do. Know when to call in the reserves. By knowing what I don't know, and not trying to be what I can't be at the moment, or even worse, not letting someone who is obviously a better choice as Pilot in a specific situation take over the position. Only an idiot thinks they should be Pilot in every situation. Learn to be Piloted as well. Let it go. Your Dog's Perception is Different Than Yours Are you frustrated because your dog doesn't understand the "come" command, or is it actually frustration that you don't understand your pet. As Morticia Adams said, "What's normal to the spider is chaos to the fly". Understanding your dog's perspective on life can make for a much more rewarding bond for both of you. A great example is the "come" command. When we first got Arwen, she was a bit of a mess: had no concepts of basic commands, not housebroken, submissive urinated all the time. She wasn't a work in progress, though. She was a masterpiece that merely needed to be understood. She was kind enough to make an effort to understand humans as we began our journey trying to understand Arwen. It actually went rather quickly, though she was a bit shy around my husband, who obviously spent less time with her. He was nothing but patient and kind, but the one day, he was having problems with having her come when he called her. Rather than getting frustrated due to lack of communication or information, he asked me why. I told him to call her. He did, and Arwen merely looked at him with her head cocked to the side, not moving at all. To my husband, she wasn't responding to a come command. However, to Arwen, he was telling her something completely different. "You are standing in front of her with your naval pointed at her. That's her body language for 'stay away'. You need to tell her what you mean in her language, not yours. You look vaguely threatening. Turn so your hip is pointed towards her, rather than your stomach, and turn your head slightly away from her as you call her name. Gently pat your leg repeatedly." My husband did so, and immediately went from looking a bit intimidating to someone who is approachable, which Arwen did. It wasn't Arwen being stubborn, nor was my husband being stupid: they were both just talking two different languages. Both were having problems identifying what the other was trying to say. By my husband making the first step towards Arwen's way of communicating, Arwen was able to start heading in his direction of communication. They met (literally) somewhere in the middle. Voila: the come command. So rather than getting frustrated at the situation, take a look at not only what you're communicating, but how you're communicating it. Does the situation present to you the same way it presents to your dog? I've always stated that the first place to start in training your dog is with empathy. It should also end with empathy, and have a whole mess of empathy in between. The moment you forget you're dealing with a living, sentient being is the moment you stop communicating and you start dominating, and that's violence inherent in the system. Given who's running in the next election, perhaps we should revisit watery tarts throwing swords as a method of electing rulers Utilize techniques to manage your frustration when working with your dog. Regardless of how hard you try, you're still going to end up occasionally getting frustrated, be it at your kids, your spouse, your dog, or just life in general. While I do use the Piloting mantra (control yourself, control the situation, and then act) in all aspects of my life, sometimes it's hard to get past the "control yourself" part. I just get frustrated. While it's true I don't get frustrated with my dogs, I do get frustrated at myself, or situations involving my dogs. Here are some ways I combat that frustration; Vent So your dog just peed on the floor for the 8th time today (see: Arwen's submissive urination problem), or perhaps your puppy chewed something they weren't supposed to. You're frustrated. I get it. While technically, it wasn't Arwen's fault any more than it was the puppy's fault (they didn't know any better), that doesn't mean you won't get frustrated. So vent. Appropriately. Take out your aggression in a healthy fashion by paying a game of fetch with your dog, or a game of tug-of-war with a rope toy. Go for a short (or long) hike. Engage in some agility. Anything to get you both moving together. Because again, it's nobody's fault that the situation occurred and that you're now frustrated, but it is most definitely your responsibility to vent that frustration appropriately. And there is no better way than engaging in some physical activity with your dog. I do a version of this with my children when I'm frustrated with them: we play a few rounds of Super Smash Brothers and beat the pixels out of each other. It works for us. Force a positive moment with your dog I actually use this one a lot to help me get over the frustration and mentally reboot, especially if I'm having difficulty teaching a trick or behavior to a dog, or if on of my beloved daughters did a dumb and gave behavior that required a negative: I then always force a positive. Example: Let's just state that for argument's sake, a certain daughter of mine did not-so-well on her math score. Yes, I will handle the situation and appropriately respond with a negative (like, no electronic devices until her grade goes back up to a B), but then I drop it. I don't dwell on the deed (it's done), nor do I dwell on the negative I gave; I already gave it, and it, too, is no longer my concern but hers. But sometimes it's hard to just let that frustration go. So I force a positive. I'll challenge said daughter to a game of chess, where I know she'll beat me. I can then be proud of her ability, and let her know that with great enthusiasm. Perhaps I will tell her to go do the dishes, after which I can genuinely praise the good job she did. Or maybe I'll ask to see her chemistry grade, (knowing full well already that it's a 96%, as I check every morning). But I can still dole out the praise like a sailor passing out dollar bills at a strip club in the Pacific. Yes, I had to give out a negative, but remember: we only use negative to get them on the right path; we use positive to keep them there. Be generous with the positive, and if you're having problems finding it, create it. So Arwen and I engage in a lot of agility (tons of praise) and some tricks. Sometimes the positive is playing a game of fetch and watching how much better she's doing at catching the ball instead of deflecting it with her face. Side note: do not google gifs for "faceballs". Trust me. Remove them from your presence. Remember, God made crates to keep you from killing your dog, and your kid has a bedroom they can go to so they can see another day. Allow them to utilize it. Because you can't say/do something damaging to your bond if you're separated. Go to your respective corner until you're able to get ahold of your self. As a final thought in this much-longer-than-anticipated post: frustration is neither right nor wrong, it's just another emotion in the cacophony of emotions swirling in your noggin. You can't always choose what pops up, but if it's the wrong tool for the job, don't use it. And frustration and anger in dog training is never the right tool. Darwin Dogs Training: A Promise to You Here at Darwin Dogs, we understand that your dog is not just a pet, but a cherished member of your family. We are confident in our ability to help guide you through understanding and improving your dog's behavior with compassion, expertise, and a methodology rooted in empathy and positive reinforcement. Our approach is direct, clear, and grounded in a deep knowledge of canine behavior. We promise to offer you comprehensive support, empowering you to build a stronger, more harmonious relationship with your dog. And we stand by our methods with a promise: If you don't see improvements, we guarantee your satisfaction with our service or your money back. In navigating the challenges of dog ownership, remember, it's not about a struggle for control but understanding and responding to your dog's needs. By adopting an empathetic approach, you're not just addressing behavioral issues; you're deepening the bond with your loyal companion. And remember, every challenge is an opportunity to grow closer and understand each other better. Let's embark on this journey together, with patience, knowledge, and a promise of unwavering support. Find out more about out dog and puppy training, as well as our 30 Day Best Dog Ever packages that include our satisfaction guarantee. Stop training, and start communicating today. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog and Puppy Training and Behavior Serving Greater Cleveland Area Northeast Ohio

“The physician must … have two special objects in view with regard to disease, namely, to do good or to do no harm” - Hippocratic Corpus Clients frequently ask me for advice with regard to their dog’s health, and I will answer them honestly (the biggest of which is that yes, your dog is overweight. Now do something about it.) However, I have a very big grasp on how little I know medically about dogs; I train dogs, I'm not a vet. It’s not my area, and there are plenty of well-qualified individuals who can answer questions beyond “How do I clip my dog’s nails?”. That’s where your vet comes in. Choosing a Vet Choosing a doctor or vet can be a very difficult thing. It’s almost as dramatic an undertaking as choosing a pediatrician. You are placing the health and welfare of your dog/child in the hands of someone else, essentially asking them to Pilot your dog’s/child’s health. It can be scary handing over control. So take your time when choosing your dog’s doctor. Use your resources and referrals. Do you like your dog’s groomer? Ask who they recommend for a vet. Did you adopt your dog? Ask the shelter who they like to use. Don’t forget to ask your friends, or even post on Facebook to get some recommendations. You may notice a trend of vets whose names frequently pop up, either good or bad. Choose wisely. So you’ve got a recommendation, and you’ve made your first appointment. Think of it as a first date. Things to look for: Clean offices. No, I don’t expect the floors to be spic and span, but if there is anything other than dog/cat hair on the floor (is that dried blood?!) step away from the reception desk. Keep stepping. Right out the door. Friendly staff. If reception makes you feel like a jerk for just checking in for your appointment, then how do you think you’re going to feel when you call them later asking a “dumb” question about your dog’s symptoms? Yes, they may be very, very busy, and you may have to wait to have your question answered, but you should never be made to feel stupid for caring about your dog’s health. Expect respect, for both you and your dog. Easy set-up. For those of you with dog-reactive dogs, you know what I mean. It can be difficult working with your dog’s reactivity while out on a walk and another dog is across the street. It can be very difficult in a crowded waiting room. If the waiting room is over-crowded, approach the staff and ask if there is another option (waiting outside, or even better, a small room where you can wait). Good communication. Ask your vet a question, you should get an answer. Note I did not state you should get the answer you are looking for. However, you should not feel shamed or stupid for asking questions. You and your vet are a team both working together to keep your pet happy and healthy. So if you don’t understand a procedure, or a medication, or symptoms, ask your vet. They should give you an answer in terms you can understand. Good “dog-side” manner. Yes, your dog is scared, and perhaps you are, too. Your dog might not like the vet at first. Allow for some time to get a good relationship between your dog and your vet. Watch your vet: do they seem comfortable working with your dog? Do they take safety precautions when necessary (such as a muzzle or another person to assist)? Those are good signs. And sometimes “I don’t know” is an acceptable answer. If you think your vet knows everything, know that they don’t. It’s okay for them to say they aren’t sure, or don’t feel qualified to make a diagnosis. Remember, first do no harm! Knowing your limits (even as a vet) is a good thing. And makes for wonderful BBC mock-umentaries. - Finally, be aware that any vet can be subjected to biased reviews, undeserved slander, and malicious attacks. The very nature of their practice unfortunately includes taking animals to the Rainbow Bridge. Understand the difference between a poor practice and poor circumstances. As a dog trainer, I'm in tune with what my dogs may need from a behavioral standpoint when visit a vet (ie., is my dog scared, hyper, excited, and when I need to Pilot them). My vet is focused on getting to the root of the health problem and fixing it. Sometimes we can bypass each other. Which is why I love my (new) vet so much. I've been seeing her for about a year, after my previous vet had the audacity to retire (thank you for your many years, Dr. Michaelowsky!!!!) I brought Ellis in to a new, highly recommended vet. She came across immediately as likable, friendly and knowledgeable, but Ellis was a little bit concerned by so much high pitched "let's-be-friends" cajoling from the vet: I'd literally just spent the past 6 months trying to decompress Ellis, who was prone to impulse control issues. Ellis needed updated shots, and while we got them done, the visit was a bit stressful. After the visit, I was very impressed with the vet (and the techs!), but I wished I had spoken up. Further, it was apparent that I had the Piloting situation under control for the most part with Ellis, except in this situation, where he still didn't quite trust me. To top it off, Ellis' first and only experience at this place was of high anxiety. That was up to me to fix. So I took him for a walk at least 1x per week up to the vet's office, got as far as their parking lot, gave Ellis a treat, and then walked home. Sometimes we'd just drive there, to shake it up a bit. I also promised to advocate for Ellis at the next appointment. It's hard to give a person you like and respect negative feedback. But that's probably why you like and respect them: they can gracefully accept negative feedback. Our next visit for boosters was a lot less energized due to Ellis being used to heading up to the vets office during our walks. When the vet walked in and tried to make friends with Ellis, I immediately stopped her, and mentioned that Ellis does so much better with less stimulation, and the less that's said, the better he does. She immediately switched gears and went silent. Ellis fell in love with her, and the trip was anti-climatic, to say the least. Over the 2 years I've had Ellis, he's seen her many times, and once during an emergency, and I've been impressed with how she instantly remembers that, while quite a few other dogs love high energy love, Ellis thrives on calm companionship. Her attitude made a non-issue out of some pretty big medical problems, at least behaviorally speaking. Her skill as a vet was able to shine through, and for that I'm extremely grateful. She did say he looked like an "alien space baby". And she's not really wrong. Choosing a vet, or even a dog trainer, or boarding location, is a very personal thing. You are asking someone else to care for the health and well-being of a very important part of your life: your pets. It’s okay to take a pass on a vet just because you got a “strange vibe”. Listen to your gut, don’t be afraid to speak up if you have questions, and trust your instincts. Your pet will thank you with a long, happy, healthy life. Dog Training vs. Dog Life By focusing on dog life, rather than dog training, our goals can become so much more attainable and clear-cut. Most of us don't want an obedient dog, we just don't want a dis-obedient dog. Robot-style dogs who are afraid of stepping out of line are for certain types of people I guess. But that's not my style. That's why I developed the Piloting method of dog training over 20 years ago, a force-free method of dog training and puppy training that didn't rely on abusive shock collars or cruel prong collars, yet didn't constantly bribe with non-stop click-n-treat style dog training. I want a bond with my dog based on trust and communication. Learn more about our Piloting method of dog and puppy training here. Find out more about our private in home 30 Day Best Dog Ever and 30 Day Best Puppy Ever training packages here. Have questions about our puppy training or dog training? Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training and Puppy Training Greater Cleveland Area Northeast Ohio

Patience is not simply the ability to wait – it’s how we behave while we’re waiting. - Joyce Meyer I hate the “wait” command that some people teach their dogs. In a world full of useless commands, this has to be the most useless. I see it play out all the time while I’m training. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Perhaps some background is necessary. Let’s set this story up properly, perhaps using the typical training session as an example. So I present to you, Wait For It, an original play written by Kerry Stack. Cast: Kerry Stack: Dog Trainer beautiful, graceful, always well-dressed with a witty comment on the tip of her tongue (hey, it’s my play, my rules). Sophie: Dog Owner. Super-wonderful owner, but having some issues with her dog knocking people over at the door, as well as some mild dog reactivity. Ajax: Handsome mix roughly a year old. Big boy, weighing in at roughly 100 lbs. Typical No No Bad Dog. ACT I, Scene I Sophie’s House Kerry has been called to meet with and work with Ajax. Upon meeting Ajax, he immediately rushes up to Kerry, jumping on her before she’s even through the doorway. Kerry, knowing full well Piloting a dog who doesn’t know her yet is dangerous, as she's technically the intruder, so she simply pushes him off of her, stands up straight, doesn't look directly at the dog, and allows the dog to smell her until he’s a bit more comfortable with her presence. Now they are ready to safely begin the training session. Kerry begins to describe the things a dog needs: Piloting, Activity and Work, stressing the importance of each. They discuss Activity, and various ways to make sure Ajax is getting enough (hint: it doesn’t have to be walking non-stop), Kerry also addresses issues with Ajax being bored, meaning he needs more Work. Now they are ready to tackle the big problem: Piloting. Kerry: Piloting is the big issue you are having here. The reason I refer to it as Piloting is this – imagine you are on an airplane, and there’s only one Pilot. Mid-flight the Pilot dies. What are you going to do? Sophie: Panic? I don’t know…try to fly the plane! Kerry: Exactly. And how do you feel flying that plane? Nervous, excited, desperate, overwhelmed and overstimulated. All because you’ve been put in charge of a crisis situation that you don’t understand and you can’t control. Who does that sound like? Ajax. Each and every time someone rings your doorbell, that’s a potential crisis situation for Ajax. Is it a threat? Is it a friend? By the time he gets to the door, he’s so worked up over the situation he literally can’t control himself, nor the situation. Sophie: So how do I handle it, and let him know it’s not a threat? That I can answer the door without his help? Kerry: By answering his questions. Dogs have a lot of questions. Most of them are pretty stupid…”Can I eat this?” ”Can I eat this after the cat ate it?” Regardless of how stupid you think the questions are, you still have to answer them. And some of his questions are pretty important. ”Is the person at the door a threat?” ”Do you need help?” Those questions need to be answered, and in a way that Ajax understands. Dogs are not based upon vocal communication.. Dog’s first language is body language. They have no second language. Sure, you can spoon-feed them a few words in English….sit, come, etc., but the most precise way to communicate with your dog is with their native language. So we’re going to respect them enough to use their language in their presence: body language. Dogs happen to be binary creatures, though. This means that every question they ever ask you will be a “yes” “no” question, and every answer you give them will be a “yes” or “no”. It’s like a giant game of “Hot or Cold”. The questions Ajax asks (“Do you need me to answer the door?”) are answered with a “no”. Just remember, Ajax isn’t bad, he’s merely asking a question, and the answer happens to be “no”. So let’s practice the body language involved first. I’m going to take these treats in my hand, put them on the floor, and tell Ajax (using body language) that he’s not allowed to have them. What do you think Ajax is going to do? Sophie: Well, we have been working on the “wait” command. He’s not allowed to have his food, any treats, etc., until we release him from that command. Kerry: But remember, I’m not telling him “wait”, I’m telling him “no”. There’s a huge difference. (Kerry puts the food on the floor, and answers Ajax’s question, “Can I have the treat?” by using body language. Ajax sits on the floor and looks to Kerry to see what to do next) Kerry: So he’s no longer engaged with the food. Here’s my question: when does he get the treat? Sophie: When he’s good? Kerry: My answer is “never”. This isn’t a trick. I’m not teaching him “wait” and you can have what you want. The problem is that you’re teaching him “wait”, which then ends with his getting whatever it is he wants. Yes, maybe he has to be a little patient, but he always gets what he wants in the end. That's not dog training, that's dog management, and he's managing you. So when you’re trying to tell him “wait” at the door, what you really mean is “no”. As in never. You never need his help at the door*. Unfortunately, up until now, he’s never been taught to understand that some things are “no”…he’s been learning to wait to get what he wants. But what if that was a baby wrapped in bacon on the floor? If he’s polite and patiently waited for a few moments, does he then get the baby? Or even better, have you ever tipped a waitress for not stealing your purse? No, because that’s yours. You don’t reward someone for not taking what’s yours. The same concept applies to Ajax. The door is yours. Whomever is behind the door is yours. *Some exclusion apply (Kerry works a little bit with Sophie to make sure she understands the body language involved. Within a few minutes, Sophie is able to answer the door without drama, a first for her and Ajax. For a more detailed description on how to answer “no” for you dog, check out this blog post) *** As you can see, “wait” means nothing to a dog, because it’s difficult for a dog to understand that concept appropriately. In dog world, either they can have something (human, food, door, etc.) or they can’t. When feeding my dogs, I don’t use the “wait” command. I get their food ready, and they “ask” if they can have it yet. My answer is “no”. When I’m ready, I call them to their enrichment toys so they can eat. When someone rings the doorbell, they ask if I need help at the door. My answer is no. Sometimes I accidentally spill food on the ground, and they ask if they can have it. Sometimes my answer is no, and they never get it. Sometimes my answer is yes (if it's dog safe food). “Wait” involves a mindset that I think we need to change as humans. We use that word as a place filler, for when we don’t want to come across as “mean”. We use it when we mean no, but are don't want to come across as "aggressive" or "unfriendly". But since when is claiming what is yours “mean”? My job as a Pilot/dog owner isn’t to make sure my dogs get everything they want, it’s to make sure they get everything they need. In some instances, that’s a kind, but definite “no”. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

“It always is harder to be left behind than to be the one to go…” ― Brock Thoene, Shiloh Autumn There’s a reason why “Fido” was a popular name for dogs: it means “Faithful” in Latin. While I don't come across many dogs I train named "Fido" anymore, I’d be hard-pressed to find anything more faithful than a dog. Their definition of loyalty is beyond the scope of most humans, which is why losing a pack member can be particularly difficult for them. When my Darwin was about 11, I adopted a very young dog: Sparta. Sparta grew up pulling on Darwin’s ears while he patiently tolerated her antics. Sparta was the annoying little sister, best friend, pack member and mutual protector of the house for Darwin, and in Sparta’s eyes, Darwin could do no wrong. He was her confidant, her ally, her security blanket. Yes, I was the pack’s Pilot, but Darwin was definitely next in line. When Sparta was a bit over a year, Darwin finally succumbed to his age. He had lived a happy life, but now it was time to say goodbye. I still miss him, and it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, walking into the vets office him following me like the good dog he was. I walked in with my best friend and walked out alone. But at least I understood why Darwin’s bed was empty that night. Sparta knew something was wrong the moment I came home without Darwin – my body language told it all. Sparta was spiraled into a deep grief right beside me. She wouldn’t eat for close to a week. My normally very active young dog would go outside only to relieve herself, and then come back inside and bury herself with her grief in her little corner. She was grieving hard. A dog feels the loss of a pack member in a much more profound way than we do. We miss our friend. Sparta missed the security of one of her Pilots. The pack was smaller now, meaning less secure in her mind. She lost a true partner. For a dog, it’s more than about the love and friendship: it’s about survival. In a dog’s mind, the pack is less likely to thrive with the loss of a member. The only comparison I can possibly give is the grief a blind person must feel if their seeing eye dog dies suddenly. Of course they miss their best friend, but it is so much more than that. It is a bond very few of us will ever understand, myself included. I am not dependent upon my dogs for my day-to-day lifestyle. Of course they enrich my life, but I could easily get along without them. Dogs require each other just to survive. The loss of a member is catastrophic on so many levels, and even more so if the pack member was a Pilot. You can help your dog get through this grief, though. Resist the urge to act any differently than you usually would around them. Don’t baby your dog. Don’t talk to them in a whiney voice, telling them everything will be all right, because you're lying: it's not all right. They don’t need baby talk; they need a Pilot. Calmly hang out with them wherever they are grieving (I frequently hung out in Sparta’s little corner with her). Take them for walks. Exercise does indeed boost moods, for both of you. You don’t have to pretend that you didn’t lose a pack member, but you do have to continue on. Slowly is fine. This isn't a time for dog training, this is a time for Piloting them. Sparta worried me profusely when she wouldn’t eat for several days, but gradually she started eating again. While I did give her a her normal treats during that time, which she refused, I did not offer her any different food. We are trying to normalize a new situation, not change everything she was accustomed to. Sparta slowly picked up her regular meals. Pretty soon she was bugging me to go for a walk instead of my having to retrieve her from her corner to take her. In other words, we found a new normal. Of course I still miss Darwin. Sparta did, too. But our Pack has changed so much. Orion and two cats, Pixel and Echo, were added about a year after I got Sparta. We added Ellis about two years ago, and we lost Sparta, Orion and Echo with in 2020 (fuck you 2020). Our family is an ever changing and expanding creating. Ellis worried us tremendously when he grieved Sparta, Orion, and our cat Echo (who tolerated Ellis so much more than the two cranky senior dogs did), but we got through it. And I miss every single family member we've lost, but I have always had room to welcome in another member. Arwen joined our group in February 2021. Our Pack would be stronger with Darwin’s calm nature helping to lead it, but he’s gone. Sparta was the gentle soul who always had our back. Losing Orion was painful in so many ways, as he was not only my shadow, but he was my partner at Darwin Dogs (how many of you walked him during our weekly pack walks?). Our Pack would be enhanced by their presence, but that won’t happen. We will find a new normal, and we make it work. And though it will never work the same way it did before, we can make it work well, celebrating our time together while cherishing the time we've had with our missing pack members, always grateful for what we had. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland Ohio

Set your course by the stars, not by the light of every passing ship. - Anon. So much of dog training parallels into raising my kids, and vice versa. I'm surrounded by adolescents now (River is 14, Robynn is 16, and my dog, Arwen is 7 months. I feel as if Ellis, the 2.5 year old pit bull, is my only respite from hormonal outbursts and teenage drama. Even my husband is all emotional over someone named Margit ever since Elden Ring came out. My daughter, River (aged -14), and I got into a battle of wills the other day. I realize it’s part of growing up: expressing a difference of opinions, not readily agreeing with everyone says, and generally breaking away a bit. Just because it’s a normal phase (and let’s face it, necessary), doesn’t mean I have to like it. Or even fight those battles. Yes, you read that correctly. I am not my daughter’s “alpha” any more than I am my dog’s “alpha”. That term actually disgusts me. David Mech introduced the idea of the alpha to describe behavior observed in captive animals. Alphas, he wrote in his 1970 book "The Wolf: Ecology and Behavior of an Endangered Species," win control of their packs in violent fights with other males. But, as he outlined in a 1999 paper, he's since rejected that idea in light of research into the behavior of wolves in the wild. Mech writes on his website (with the lovely title Wolf News and Info) that his original book is "currently still in print, despite my numerous pleas to the publisher to stop publishing it." -Rafi Letzter I'm not here to dominate my daughter. What I’m here to do is answer questions for my her as long as she needs me to do so. As she gets older, the questions get less frequent, but more intense and definitely more serious. When she was 4, she wanted to know if she could have candy for dinner (um…no). Now that she’s an adolescent, she wants to know if she can spend hours on her computer and neglect her homework. It’s obviously not a question that is vocalized, but rather asked through her actions (or lack thereof). Again, the answer is “no” (she's got a 3.6 gpa now). Eventually, she will be at a point where she doesn’t need me to answer her questions anymore (though she still may want to seek my advice). I will hopefully have done my job as a parent, and showed her how to think for herself; how to take information and act upon it. It’s a difficult break when the time comes, but as a human, that’s my goal: a child who will always be my little girl, but also she will be a strong, courageous woman capable of both standing up for what is right, yet also capable of apologizing when she’s wrong. I raise my kids in a very similar way that I raise my dogs. No, really. I’m here to answer my kids’ and my dogs’ questions. As far as my dogs go, my Sparta’s big questions usually involved other dogs, and if they are a threat or not. For Orion, it was usually about a fear of being separated from me. My current dogs have plenty of questions as well. Ellis wants to know about that food on the table. And Arwen wants to know when we're going to get some more activity, if she can drag me on the walk, and, to be honest, a whole lot more. But I’m not their “alpha”. I’m the person who has answered all of their questions in a way that they understand, and doesn’t scare them. I don’t lose my temper…at least not in front of them. (Hint: It’s okay to walk away.) The difference between dogs and kids, though, is that you aren’t raising dogs to be independent. Dogs will always require a Pilot to help them navigate our human world. The important thing to remember, is that it is still their right to question our answers. Let me repeat that: a dog is allowed to ask questions, and to challenge the answers you have given them. The key is that you have the right to stand firm in your answer. For instance, Sparta’s main question, as I’ve stated in an many posts, had to do with other dogs. She perceived them as a threat. Her question was usually, “Should I kill it before it kills me?”. Of course my answer is “no”. But it is her right not to immediately accept my answer. I call it the Are You Sure. The object of the game isn’t to bully her into accepting that my answer is valid and correct. It’s to help her understand that I will stand firm in this answer, and that I will keep answering her questions until she accepts my answer. Look at it from a human perspective. I bought a new house a few years ago, and did a 100% gut and remodel of the interior. During the process, I was convinced that I wanted hardwood floors. I love the look, the feel and just the vibe of hardwood. My husband, on the other hand, suggested tile floors. No way. So he set about answering my concerns about it: It will look cheap. No, there’s tiles that look exactly like hardwood floors. We can’t refinish it like hardwood. We won’t need to refinish it; it’s so much more durable than hardwood. It’s cold. We can put radiant heating under it. So eventually, I took the leap of faith (after many, many more rounds of Q & A). I accepted his answers to my questions. We put in the tile. And I love it! But bear in mind that my husband did not “alpha” his way into getting me to accept his answer. He gave his answers in a calm manner. He didn’t ignore my questions, nor did he try to distract me from my questions about the tile. He definitely didn’t use an electric shock collar on me to get me to accept his answer (I mean, wtf?!). He answered questions for me until I felt that his answers made more sense than mine did. Now, I’m not going to say I can always be this cool and rational about a difference of opinion. After all, I’m human, and so is he. We sometimes throw emotions into it. The really nifty thing is that dogs don’t. They are logical, sensical beings who, once you have a higher amount of money in your Piloting Piggy Bank than they have, will acquiesce. And the more money you have in your bank, the more they trust your answers. I will never bully my way into being Pilot. I want them to ask questions of me. To feel safe asking questions that I will always answer for them (to the best of my ability). One cannot use the pain of a shock collar to establish your role as Pilot. That role is earned, not inherited just because I have opposable thumbs and they don’t. I answer their questions. And most importantly, I choose my battles. Yes, I usually answer their questions (“Can I bark at the mailman?” ”May I please have a treat?” “Can I pull on the leash?”) but only if I feel mentally capable of doing so at time. I need to be calm and rational when answering questions. Not harried and frustrated. Let’s be frank, the more I answer their questions, the more money I get in my Piloting Piggy Bank. But sometimes, I just don’t have it in me, and that’s fine. As I told my husband the other day, I win 100% of the battles I choose to fight with our dogs (and our kids!). So that battle with River that I had? It really wasn’t a battle with her. It was a battle of my being tired after working all day, along with her being a 14 year old girl trying to move her boundaries forward. But I’m the adult. I’m still her Pilot. I knew I wasn’t in a position to Pilot her correctly when I was tired, so I didn’t. I told her that while she had a valid point worthy of discussion, that we would have to address it in the morning when we were both more rational. I stood hard and firm in that conviction, and gently, but firmly negated her attempts to discuss at that moment. After a few “Are You Sure’s” from her, she accepted that answer, and we did end up discussing it in the morning. And you know what? I answered her original question ("Can I have a later bedtime?") with a positive. She presented her points and reasons why she should be allowed to stay up much later, and I agreed. She was right. Piloting isn’t always about standing firm in your convictions; it’s about being able to change your views when presented with more information. That’s what Piloting is about: giving the correct answer, not the easiest nor the most convenient. And that’s how to win a battle correctly. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

Now, cryin’ won’t help you Prayin’ won’t do you no good When the levee breaks Mama, you got to move - Led Zepplin, When The Levee Breaks This post was originally published in 2020. Updated March 2022. So many questions have been pouring in from my clients regarding housebreaking. There are some fallacies regarding training your dog to be housebroken: they're doing it to spite you, they know better, they can hold it longer, but are choosing to pee in the house. Housebreaking isn't always about teaching a dog to go outside. There can be a lot more to it, and an old post that popped up regarding Orion shows some of the other reasons a dog may be urinating in the house. For more information on other reasons your dog is eliminating in the house, check out this link. ***** Orion peed on the floor last week. I’m not going to say it’s my fault, because I let him out, I saw him go, and I let him back in. Besides, I’m not a big fan of blame. I’m surely not going to blame Orion. He’s a dog. What happened was this: I took Sparta for a walk. I know what you’re thinking. How on earth could taking Sparta for a walk result in a mess on the floor from Orion. Was Orion trying to get back at me? Answer: No. Dogs don’t work that way. Here’s the blow-by-blow. 1) I know Orion is a super-hyper dog with a lot of energy. If I don’t help him get rid of that energy in productive ways, it turns into nervous energy. That’s a bad thing. Orion had a lot of energy that morning. I’ve been pretty busy, and haven’t been giving him quite enough outlets during the day. Yes, we still hiked, but he’s a dog who needs a LOT of physical activity to be at his best. And while each day he had enough exercise to skim the energy off the top, I didn’t empty his cup, if you will. Unfortunately, that builds up over time, and then the cup spilleth over. 2) Orion has a nervous temperament as well. He’s like a skittish racehorse. And when he has some shock to his system (like my taking Sparta for a walk before him, which is our usual MO), he literally can’t hold it anymore Like a 4 year old on Christmas morning. Yes, the child has been potty trained, but if you add too much excitement, nothing is stopping the flood. 3) I forgot who my dog was. Orion has a bit of separation anxiety, especially with Sparta. I know Orion initially self-soothed by, uh, eliminating in a high stress situation. Yes, we worked on that, and he’s been amazing these past few years. But this is a behavior you manage, rather than cure. Orion hasn’t eliminated in the house in a very, very long time. I just happened to create the perfect storm for him. So what should I have done? 1) Paid more attention to his need for activity. Yes, I was busy, but that’s a reason, not an excuse. If I blow the engine on my car because I was too busy to change the oil, I don’t get a pass from the mechanic who has to replace my engine. I’m the one who got the car/dog. It’s my responsibility to change the oil/exercise the dog. No excuses. Figure something out, or, in my case, clean something up. 2) Control the situation. So the amount of activity in our house has been down, meaning I was already setting Orion up for failure. So I added on top of it. I know he’s used to going for the walk first, and was ready to go! Except, I reneged on him. And rocked his little world. That merely added to the stress he already had from lack of activity. 3) Dog training starts with knowing your dog. This is Orion, not Sparta, who hasn’t gone in the house since, like, ever! I know his triggers, and as I work with him, they trigger him less and less, but still, he has them. So this week I’ve been proactive. His amount of activity per day has been increased. I’ve gotten him accustomed to being along in the house first, while I take Sparta for very brief walks, (like out the front door, down the driveway and then back) so he gets used to the idea and isn’t traumatized by it. So now when I’m presented with two dogs who are each waiting for their (separate) walks, each with a lot of energy, I’m able to manage the situation better. I hold up a leash and let them know I’m ready for my first solo dog walk of the day with one of them. And rather than this reaction from each of them: I control the situation, and ensure calm ensues, so while whoever doesn't get to walk first is disappointed, they know that they will still get their walk. Just not right now. Orion knows now that just because he isn’t first doesn’t mean he isn’t skipping his walk. And I know now that good enough is only good enough for so long. Now I’m very careful to make sure I get rid of all of Orion’s energy. He's a dog, who does dog things. If I'm going to ask a dog to give me human behaviors, such as housebreaking him, it's up to me to set him up for success. Creating calm in most situations in the house, such as calmness before I let them outside to play, to calmness before I put down their enrichment toys, creates a general vibe in the house for everything: calm. The more situations I paint with a calm brush, the more often that's the automatic reaction I get. And when you have a dog who has anxiety urination, or "glee pee", that's an important part of elimination that behavior. Reconnect with your dog. Remember that they need to love and trust you, and you'll be well on your way to communicating calm in your house, no matter what the unexpected change in routine may be. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

Deciding what not to do is as important as deciding what to do. - Charles Spurgeon As a dog trainer, I'm obviously around a lot of dogs, and I love meeting new dogs, helping their owners learn to communicate with their dogs, and the moment where it all comes together, whether it's a fear reactive dogs, or a new puppy. My job is an endless source of joy to me. And while I always pride myself on making sure that my clients understand what their dogs needs to be able to thrive with their family, each dogs needs are different, yet the same. Whether in the show ring, as a working guide dog, or a beloved family pet, all dogs need three things to be successful: Piloting, Activity and Work. It's just the dosages of each change based upon the individual dog. So what does that look like in my house? Well, let me introduce you to Arwen, the (almost) 7 month old Border Collie, and Ellis, the 3 (?) year old Staffie mix. 5:30 a.m. - Wake up Yeah, it's a bit brutal, but I wake up every day at 5:30. It used to be 6:00 when I only had Ellis, but the reality of it is that having a Border Collie requires a different style of dog training than most dogs. That goes for any dog, be it mutt or purebred, that is super high energy. Arwen is a type "A" personality. She's hard working, and she feels the need to be constantly moving or doing. She's definitely a Hermione. I knew that when I got her, and if she was going to happily live here, I knew some adjustments would need to be made. So to start with, at 5:30, let the dogs out while I grab my coffee and breakfast, and toss a ball for her in between bites and sips. We head down to the basement where there's plenty of room, and she fetches for 1/2 hour straight, while wearing her backpack. And that's just our warm-up for the day. I look at exercise as time: time spent in exercise is time out of trouble. At Arwen's age, that 1/2 hour of fetch will buy me about 2-3 hours of calmness, provided I have adequately exercised her the day before. This 1/2 hour doesn't work if she didn't have enough exercise the previous day. It's like feeding your children; just because you fed them dinner yesterday doesn't mean you can skip today. Ellis joins in the fun, too, and usually for the first 10 minutes I let them wrestle (no backpack when wrestling) so I can finish my breakfast, and only when Ellis is done wrestling, do I finish Arwen off with fetch, usually with Ellis hanging out next to me on the couch. 6:00 - 7:00 a.m- Breakfast & Potty Break Now that the dogs are exhausted, they are usually rather hungry. Since I need to make sure Arwen is on a bathroom schedule (I've only had her about 6 weeks, and she wasn't housebroken when I got her), I've actually set her up to be hungry. Wake up + exercise = famished. The dogs eat out of various enrichment toys, with Arwen preferring a Kong Wobbler, and Ellis preferring the Outward Hound "Nina" ball. The dogs are locked in separate rooms to eat, as I usually have a bit of running around to do, either taking kids to school, shopping, or perhaps I just want a few moments to myself. They have about 1/2 hour with the toys, and if they're done, I take them away. Otherwise, I give them as much time as they need, but not as much time as they want. Meal time is meal time. Usually at this point, I let them out for another potty break, and then they're in their room. 7:00 - 9:30 a.m. - Chill Out Time/Another Round of Exercise If I don't have a morning training session for the day, I will head up to my office, where I'll hang out and get some work done. There are specific rules for my office: no wrestling, no energy, just calmly chewing on the office toys (learn about how to best use your dog toys here). If I have a morning session, I will add another half hour of exercise at this point for Arwen, along with some more mental stimulation, such as learning a new trick, treats in an enrichment toy, or maybe just a Kong. Because.... 9:30 - 1:30 p.m. (sometimes as late as 4 p.m.) They are typically in their room during this time if I have training sessions during the day. They've been physically exhausted, had some mental work, so they're primed to chill out. They will be let out to use the bathroom when my kids get home from school, but this is their long stretch of quiet time. They're used to the routine when I have back-to-back sessions, and this routine, though not rigid, is tremendously helpful. If I don't have back-to-back sessions, I use this time to relax, and catch up on calls, emails, or blog posts. Regardless of my dog training schedule, this is quiet time (usually), perhaps punctuated with a few shorter runs in the basement if there's time. Late Afternoon - Evening The walk happens after l I get home after my last session of the day. Sometimes that's early afternoon, and sometimes that's at 9:00 at night. I don't dwell on how long the walk is, just that it was productive, and I was able to Pilot them appropriately. Arwen is still working on walking politely. Ellis is a champ. During nice weather, the walk can be 3 hours in the park, or when we go rucking. In crummy weather, sometimes it's just around the block. Again, I don't usually use a walk to wear out a dog; that's like using a bucket to bail the Titanic: the benefit is so negligible, it's almost nonexistent. Like tears in the rain. The walk is to build your bond with your dog through Piloting. Sometimes they are allowed to sniff, other times, this is a brisk walk. They will usually be wearing their backpacks with just a little bit of weight in it to help the walk be more effective. I enjoy being outdoors with my dogs, so typically we will go about a mile. If the weather is crappy (#Cleveland), as it has been, we will keep it short. Evening This is my chill out time. Dinner with my family (while my dogs eat from enrichment feeders), following by another brief game of fetch in the basement with Arwen to wear her out, followed by whatever tricks/commands I want her to learn. This week we've been practicing off-leash heel, lie down, and back up. So far she knows sit, stay, come, "to me" (used to help her refocus - she has to come to my left side and sit down), bring (bringing whatever toy I tell her), ringing to bell to go out, and she's now effectively housebroken (bar any more intestinal drama). This is usually only about 20 minutes in length. Ellis may work on some things with me as well, just for some extra mental stimulation. Scent work is his favorite right now. Finally, around 8 or 9, I'm ready to settle in. I usually hang out in my office with my husband, where we'll watch tv. Sometimes it's video games with the kids. If the weather is nice, we will still be hiking with the dogs at this point. We don't watch too much tv in our house in the summer. I usually go to bed between 10:30-11:00, after the dogs get let out one last time. You'll notice that I fully expect my dogs to have plenty of down time, which is integral to my sanity. A dog can never be truly happy unless their owner is taking care of themselves. In other words, I give my dogs all the Piloting, Activity and Work that they need, not necessarily as much as they want. So if Arwen has gone on a 8 mile trek with me in a day, I have no problem giving her a negative when she asks to play ball in the evening. If Ellis and I spent a (productive) hour on scent work, if he brings me a puzzle toy later, I don't feel bad not filling it for him. Dogs are like toddlers; they have no "off" button. Just because they want something doesn't mean they need it. You need to make sure you are taking care of your needs as well. Otherwise your dogs start to feel like just another chore you need to endure your way through. My schedule works for me because it's not rigid. Given the nature of my job, I have a lot of flexibility in what gets done when, but at the end of the day, there is a general flow throughout the day. I find that with dogs, as well as children, having a schedule that shows some flex results in a calmer, happier household. It also prevents me from "forgetting" to walk my dogs. If something is important, and needs to be addressed every day, schedule it. Get on a gentle routine, and you'll find that your life is a lot less chaotic. Your dog gets the Piloting, Activity and Work that they need, and you have built in time for relaxation. So allow for some wiggle room on your day, but make sure you're hitting all the things that need to be done, and allowing for the things you want as well. It's the key to a successful bond with your dog. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

My friend adopted a dog, Ziggy, from a local shelter about four years ago. She adopted him knowing full well that he was scheduled to be euthanized for aggressiveness. She didn’t care…she bonded with him, and she was going to save him. Are you readying yourself for a sad story here with an awful ending? Well, you’ll be disappointed. My friend worked with her dog, training him, and just two months after she adopted him, he was a different dog. He will never be a social butterfly, but he is a happy, loving part of her pack now, and is not the sniveling, cowering, reactive mess he was when she adopted him. She was able to take the time and patience to rehabilitate him. I sincerely get a kick out of this dog, too. Clever, smart, funny, and just adorable. Here’s where I’m going to throw you for a loop: I don’t necessarily disagree with the shelter’s decision that he needed to be put down. They may have been right. I know what you’re thinking right now… Ziggy was at a shelter with a limited amount of space. Shelters and rescues are trying to save as many dogs as they possibly can, and they only have a certain amount of dollars, space and resources with which to do it. Think about it: there’s only so much room on the ark. Sometimes you pick up a dog who is too resource heavy, such as Ziggy was. The amount of money that it could have taken to rehabilitate him, plus the cage space he was taking up, could have saved 15 dogs instead of just him. There are too many dogs, and not enough home. Rescues and shelters are doing triage, and trying to save as many as they can. And they’re doing a great job of it. I tend towards thinking analytically, and frequently believe that, as Machiavelli put it, ”The ends justify the means.” It’s a tough call to put down a (physically) healthy dog solely for the reason of saving 10 other dogs, but I will never judge someone who has made that call. As a matter of fact, I will defend that decision. I could never understand why people couldn’t see the logic behind the simple truth: save this one dog, or save many dogs. It doesn’t seem to be a very difficult number to crunch out. 1<10, right? But then I learned something about That One Dog. That One Dog is bringing community together. That one dog is bonding shelter workers and volunteers in hopes of saving that one dog. That one dog is bringing awareness to animal abuse/neglect in a way that those other ten dogs possibly couldn’t. That one dog makes no sense financially, but emotionally, that one dog is untouchable in riches and rewards. We worked together. We educated, and we were able to save That One Dog. That One Dog may be what keeps a volunteer able to volunteer. That One Dog may bring in a donation from a person whose heart was touched. That One Dog may prevent hundreds of other dogs from suffering due to education. That One Dog may be what prompts a dog owner to spay/neuter their dog. That One Dog is actually priceless. Not every dog can be saved. We know that. Time and resources are a finite thing. There simply isn’t enough of either to go around. While I will never shame a rescue or shelter for making very difficult decisions, I will no longer casually dismiss saving a resource-high dog as “vain” or “money better spent elsewhere”, as I may have done before. We humans created this mess of abused, neglected and homeless dogs. It’s up to us to fix it. But to do that, we need to work together, and to work together, we need something to bond over. Something that brings us together. And sometimes what we need is That One Dog. From the Vicktory dogs, who garnered attention about the cruelty of dog fighting, to that hopeless rescue dog in your local shelter, who rallied the volunteers and community to pitch together to rehabilitate and find their forever home, That One Dog can sometimes have an impact so profoundly larger than the rescue of a single dog. Here's to That One Dog, and to the volunteers who never gave up hope. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

There are a few things in this world I really enjoy more than: My garden My collection of antique books: And my truck (her name is Matilda): Maybe not the list you're expecting, but there it is. I know I'm fortunate to have quite a few nice things, and I truly appreciate them. A very applicable reminder for me, since today, as I was exited the grocery store, I saw a rather large semi-truck stopped right behind Matilda, effectively blocking her in the parking spot. There was a man pacing back and forth between my truck (looking very distraught) and the semi. As I got closer, he asked if that was my truck, and I indicated that it indeed was. He went to the back driver's side, and asked if that had been there before. And by that, he meant the broken tail light and the big dent in my quarter panel. He said he may have accidentally dinged my truck while maneuvering through the lot. It most definitely had not been there. Now before I answered his question about my girl, Matilda, my favorite truck ever, I needed to bear a few things in mind. This man was quite nervous, and upset at the situation. Definitely blaming himself, and frankly, probably convinced he was going to lose his job. There was nobody in the parking lot, so this guy could've easily just ditched the scene, leaving me to wonder what happened. And I certainly had every right to be upset about the damage, there was something I needed to bear in mind: my truck is a thing. This guy is a being. Let me explain where I'm going. You'll notice I never stated that I loved my truck, or my garden, or even my library. Why would I love an inanimate object that couldn't possibly return any emotions? I could call my truck ugly, or beautiful, and Matilda wouldn't care. I can't ruin her life with an unkind word because she's bereft of life. I can love driving my truck, or I can love mornings spent in my garden, but again, the verb "love" is elicited by me, a being. This man, (whose name I came to find out was Justin) ... well, he's an actual being. A being very capable of being injured, hurt, sad, happy, afraid, joyful, and a myriad of other emotions. And just because I had the (supposed) moral high ground to be a total asshole to him for damaging my truck doesn't mean I should. So I simply said, "Unfortunately, no, that's new damage. I'm sorry, but it sounds like you're having a rough day. Why don't you take a moment to call whomever you need to call from your company, and let's work this out together." See how simple that was? I didn't need to abuse a living being over damage they (accidentally) did to one of my favorite (inanimate) things. By choosing communication over power, ego and domination, I helped to effect resolution. So what does this have to do with dog training? Everything. By now you've met Arwen through some of my blog posts, or perhaps social media. She's my 6 month old border collie, who as of today, I've had about a month. Now, even though I'm a dog trainer, I'm still human, and capable of overlooking a few things when working with a young, energetic dog who is in the process of teething. Things such as my Birkenstocks, or my laptop cord. I have every right to be angry at her, and to get upset with her for destroying my things. But that's just it: those are things....Arwen is an being. And the moment I care more about a thing than an being, I've lost my inner peace. Arwen is just a (great!) dog, who totally sucks at being human. And sometimes I suck at being a dog. Bridging that communication gap is integral if I want to forge any kind of meaningful bond with her. Now should I be happy that she chewed up my favorite shoes? No, I'm not stupid. But they are just shoes, and can be replaced. There will only ever be one Arwen in this world, and she will only be a part of it for all too short of a time. Last year I had that lesson compounded, as I lost my Sparta in January, my cat Echo in March, and Orion in December. They were all seniors, but still, it wasn't enough time with them. It never could be. How I react to these situations and negative behaviors will shape and form our relationship. When I was a child, if I did something bad, I would be punished. But beyond the punishment, I would get The Silent Treatment. My mother would do her best to avoid me, or give simple one word responses to any questions. She would ignore me, so I could feel the entire weight of her displeasure and disappointment in me. And what did it teach me? I learned that things are more important than beings. That the negative thing I did was bigger than her desire to be near me, interact with me, or to engage with me. That was a tough lesson to unlearn, but it really didn't hit home until I had children of my own. I vowed no matter what they did, regardless of what consequences they needed to face as a result of their actions, that I would take extra measures to make sure they understood that my love for them was in no way impacted by their actions. Even if I needed to take a few minutes to control myself over something - hypothetically - really stupid they may have done, like, oh... tear down all of the wall paper border in the dining room because they were bored, I would still get control of myself and detach with love by saying, "I love you very much, now please go to your room so I don't kill you right now". I'd get control of myself, and only then, address the situation. Remember, God created crates and kids' bedrooms to keeping you from killing your dogs or your kids. A moment of control can save you a lifetime of regret. And that is the basis of Piloting: control yourself, control the situation, and only then, start to address the issue at hand. In other words, Piloting is not just for dog training, but for kids, and life in general, as well. That's not to say that if I had caught Arwen chewing my shoes, I should ignore her behavior; that's just silly. If I had seen her silently chewing my shoe under my desk as I worked, I would have simply given her a calm, gentle, negative, and that would have been that. As I'm fond of saying, I don't believe in purgatory. Give your negative and then just let it go. Don't hold on to it. So back to my truck, Matilda. Phone calls were made, and one of my favorite things will be fixed in no time. I'm pleased, but Matilda is still just a thing. And there is never any reason to destroy or abuse a being over something so silly as a thing. Keep the perspective, and reprioritize your goals: a long, happy relationship with your dog/puppy that is built on trust. Because things are replaceable, beings are not. Keep the right perspective of the value of things vs. beings. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

"If you look for perfection, you'll never be content." - Leo Tolstoy. I was with a friend and a new acquaintance the other day, and when the acquaintance discovered I train dogs, started talking about dog life. My friend’s friend, who we will call Donna, was talking about a dog she has. Or rather, about the judgment she receives from many different sources about her even owning a dog. I don’t know Donna well, and have only met her twice, so I instinctively braced myself for the barrage of atrocities she must be visiting upon said dog. With anger already rising, I asked her why she shouldn’t own a dog. “Because I work”, was her reply. I thought I didn’t hear her correctly. I verified this answer. Yes, she was being judged for not being a stay-at-home dog mom. Now, let’s get a little bit more in-depth. Certainly that couldn’t be the end of it. Perhaps she was in a position, say such as a nurse or fireman, who wasn’t home for extended hours during the day, and hadn’t made proper arrangements for the dog’s care during those hours. Nope. Bankers hours. She owns an older, very low energy dog, who she happens to leave home alone while she works during the day. I see this type of judgment much more than I care to. Someone isn’t able to give all the luxuries to their pet that others can. Such as having a someone home most of the day. Being able to afford a more expensive, premium brand of food. Using a low-cost clinic rather than the up-town vet. Perhaps we need to go over a few things here. Some uncomfortable truths. 1. Your world can’t revolve around your dog. Sure, it would be lovely if you were able to stay home and cater to your dog’s every want and need. I know I would have a blast with 4 walks a day, 2 daily sessions of agility and 1 marathon grooming session every day. But the reality is I work. I enjoy my job as a dog trainer, but the bigger reality is that part of the money I earn by working goes for the care of my dog. In other words, if I am unable to work, my dogs are unable to eat, go to the vet, etc. I’m the first to admit that due to the hours I work, and my ability to make my own schedule, I have enormous flexibility with my pets’ care. Not everybody does. But I think we need a reminder that we are all doing the best we can with what we have. So when one of my clients nervously admits that their dog is crated for 8-9 hours a day while they work, I say “Good for you!”. Not because of the length of time their dog is crated, but because that dog isn’t in a shelter, kennel, or worse. And even the most mediocre home is still better than the most amazing shelter. At home, your dogs are patiently waiting to be spoiled rotten when their owner comes home after a long day of work, ready to give hugs and kisses to them to ease the stress of their human’s day. Dogs still love their owner, and aren’t angry. Instead, they are grateful for what they have: a home, a human, food, shelter, and above all, love. 2. A good home isn’t about income, fenced in yard, or how clean your house is. I am the proud parent of two human children, two cats, two rats and two dogs. My human children I was allowed to have and raise without any input from anyone. As long as I didn’t neglect nor abuse them, people just roll their eyes when you do/don’t allow too much/too little screen time. When you do/don’t feed organic food. When you do/don’t have viola lessons 2x week per kid. My grandma had a wonderful saying, "Your kids won't remember if your floors were freshly mopped, but they'll remember that you always had time to read a story to them." The reality is that we are much more judgment about who is allowed to have a pet. Which is ridiculous. According to the SPCA, “Each year, approximately 1.5 million animals are euthanized (670,00 dogs and 860,000 cats).” Let me repeat that number for you: 1.5 million animals are euthanized Yet you’re worried that I don’t have a fenced-in yard? That the dog will be home alone for too long during the day? What that translates to is a dog is better off dead than in a home where he will be crated 8 hours a day. It's a place of extreme privilege to deny someone a dog because they can't afford a $4k fence for their yard. While we're at it, let me bust a myth for you: There is no such thing as a "no kill" shelter. So maybe Rex the rescue pit bull is at the perfect "no-kill" shelter, waiting for the perfect home, but Rex is taking up a spot that Cooper the other rescue pit bull needs. See, Cooper is scheduled to be euthanized tomorrow due to overcrowding at a local county shelter. You can neither create nor destroy matter, which means we can not just will another open kennel in a shelter. There’s only so much room on the Ark, and not everyone is going to make it. Cooper won’t make it because Rex still hasn’t found the perfect home, and the last applicant for Rex didn't have a fenced in yard, so Rex is still taking up cage space because he wasn't adopted out. So that no kill shelter isn't really no kill; they have the option of just not taking in a dog if they don't have room. Yes, they are doing amazing things, and rescuing dogs. But don't disparage the county kennel. They simply don't have the option to not take in a dog. And if they only have a facility that holds 50 dogs, what do you think will have to happen when the call comes in about stray/abandoned/dumped dog number 51 comes in? Some disillusionment needs to happen. There is no such thing as a perfect home. Even if there were, we don’t have time to find the perfect home. There are too many animals dying. We can’t wait to adopt animals out to the perfect home; the "kill" shelters are doing triage. And the longer Rex sits waiting for that mythical “perfect home” the more dogs will die as a result. In order for a home to be perfect, there has to be love, and an ability to care for an animal, which means food, shelter, water and exercise. So Agatha, the potential adopter is 83 years old ad wants to adopt a 1-year old mixed breed named Finn. Yes. Most likely Agatha will be dead before Finn is even 8 years old, but guess what? Finn will be dead by this time next week if she doesn’t adopt him. Even in the worst case scenario, where after Agatha has gone and nobody steps up to take Finn, who is subsequently euthanized, Finn will have had a great life. Shorter than it should have been, but so much longer and fulfilling than one week at a shelter before being euthanized. Agatha has also opened up a cage for another dog by adopting Finn. And Finn helped Agatha live longer, more independently. It’s a virtuous cycle. Funny how love works. 3. That’s the wrong breed of dog for you. Nobody has ever told me that my children are the wrong breed for me. That my daughter, River, has too much Viking-Finnish blood from her father for me to handle. Or that since my daughter Robynn's full background is unknown (as she’s adopted), I shouldn’t take a risk on her. Why do we do that with dogs? I thought we had come to a point in our society where we stopped looking at what a person is, but rather who that person is. We’re not perfect, but we’re getting there, I guess. Slower than I like, but we’re picking up speed. It’s a beautiful thing to watch, too. From this: Ruby Bridges, entering William Frantz Elementary School in New Orleans on November 14, 1960 with armed guards. To this: I really don’t care if you hated him, or if you want him for a third term; our first black president was born 1 year after little Ruby bravely stood up to end segregation. We are growing as a society to look past ethnicity…to even embrace our differences in culture, religion and gender. But somehow that ends when it comes to adopting out a dog. We look at what a dog is (boxer, pittie/chihuahua) rather than who a dog is (friendly/shy/in-between). When we judge a group, rather than an each individual's character, we all lose. Dogs languish in cages because Akitas are hard to handle (maybe… if you’re talking about handling all that fur…). Pitties are aggressive (about as aggressive as a human…meaning they are each unique but vastly non-hostile). Mastiffs drool (okay, got me there *shudder*). We need to at least give the family of four a chance to pick out their own dog regardless of breed, and respect that they probably know more about their situation in life and ability to care for a dog than you do. We can still reserve the right to weed out any potentially abusive or downright neglectful homes, and by all means, give any facts or information you have on the individual dog to the family, or perhaps known health/risk issues (prevalence of hip dysplasia, bite history (yikes!), etc., but let's allow them process the information and make a decision. So back to my acquaintance, Donna, and the horrible, wretched life she is imposing by leaving her dog home alone for 8-9 hours per day, as well as all of you who actually work for a living: You’re doing just fine. You’re doing the best you can with what you’ve got, and you should never apologize for it, nor should you be made to feel like a villain. Donna, you are an incredible mother to your dog. The best dog mom or “dog-ma” there is, just like all of us who are working with what we’ve been given. And nailing it. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

Freedom is not the absence of obligation or restraint, but the freedom of movement within healthy, chosen parameters. - Kristin Armstrong Last week I had a rather full schedule training, including a couple of dogs who were, for lack of a better term, “aggressive”. And this is how my week ended. Okay, so that's not an actual photo of my wrist, but you get the idea. I really wish I could say I got it doing something exciting. It didn’t happen while I was training dogs. It happened while I was painting. I’m officially very middle aged. Anyway, I’m supposed to rest it for at least a week, but as far as sprains go, it’s not too bad. Now that brings to light a few questions, though: how am I supposed to do this week’s training sessions, which includes one aggressive dog, as well as 3 super-hyper dogs, whom will undoubtedly need work on leash walking. The answer is that if I can’t walk dogs with a mildly sprained wrist, then I can’t walk dogs. The secret to working with dogs is to never make them feel restrained. In other words, I shouldn’t need muscle to walk a dog. If I am able to drive a car (which I am), then I am okay to walk a dog. The biggest complaint I hear about people walking their dog is that the dog is pulling the whole time, causing the owner’s arms to become tired very quickly. But let’s think about it rationally: the dog physically can not be pulling you unless you are pulling back. In other words, you are pulling backwards just as much as they are pulling forward. You are trying to muscle your way through the walk, and as a result, your dog is choking. The reason why your dog is pulling is because you’ve restrained them…no, not with the leash, but with the nonstop tension attached to the leash. You’ve engaged their fight or flight response, causing them to pull forward, which in turn engaged your flight or fight response, causing you to automatically pull backwards. But what if you didn’t fall into that vicious cycle? What if you didn’t sink your feet into the ground, and pull back with all your force? No, I’m not stating you should let your dog run amok while you follow meekly behind. But rather than using brute force, have you tried answering your dog’s questions instead? Dogs ask a lot of question, all the time. Answering your dog’s questions is called “Piloting” them. Some questions you can ignore (“Is it okay if I scratch my ear now?” or “Mind if I take a nap?”). Others you want to give a profound, hearty “yes” to, (“Should I potty outside?” or “Should I sit politely to get that treat?”). But the most important ones sometimes require a “no”, such as, “Can I jump on your guest?”, or, in this case, “Can I lead our walk?”. The answer must be “no“. So how do you “answer” your dog with a negative? Easy. Stand up as straight as you can, pretend your dog is a lot taller, and simply invade their personal space. Keep your feel like a letter “V” so you don’t accidentally step on their paws. The moment they are no longer “asking” the question, you are done. So, for instance, if my Arwen were barking at something outside the window, I would simply stand up straight and get between her and the window she’s barking at, and back her off the window using strong, confident body language. I’m “claiming” the window, or, as we put it, answering her question, “Should I be worried about that dog outside?”. The answer is “no”. Check out this video for a demonstration of this body language as I answer the door. How can I tell when she’s accepted the answer? She will stop barking for a moment, perhaps look at me, sit down, turn her head away, or even just walk away. Arwen is no longer actively interested in the window, or what’s outside, therefore, I no longer have to answer her question. I’m done. No force involved. I didn’t drag her away from the window, I merely crowded her out from it, using my body. So how does this work on a walk? Well, let’s start with the three most important steps: 1) Control yourself. No anger, no yelling. Good, confident body language. Fake it if you have to. 2) Control the situation. Did you just walk out that door with the dog dragging you, and then continue walking? Control each and every moment. If you lost control, that’s okay, just reboot to regain control. Don’t just follow the momentum. Create calm. It’s okay to stop and start over. It's even better to pick a controlled environment to start working on the walk. The first 2 weeks I had Arwen, we literally practiced walking only in the house and backyard. Small amount of external stimuli = small amount of easy-to-answer questions. 3) Answer questions as they come up, using the body language. Okay, now you’re ready. Go to the front door. Put Fido’s leash on. Now I want you to “claim” the door. In other words, Fido’s first question is going to be, “Do you want me to lead you out the door?” Your answer is “No”, so simply pivot on your foot that’s closest to your dog, and now you should be facing Fido, with your back to the door. You yourself should look like you are a door that just slammed in Fido’s face. Using your body language, gently back him away from the door, using an occasional tug, tug, tug on the leash if necessary, but never holding him back physically. Now he’s calm? Okay then, you’re ready to walk outside. If not, continue answering his question until he accepts the answer and you're ready to walk out the door and add more stimuli to the situation (and more stimuli usually means more questions to answer). Remember, this shouldn't be about training your dog, nor domination; this should be focused on communicating with your dog. Take each step slowly. If he tries to drag you down the front steps, stop, give a series of gentle tugs until he is close by you again. His ears should never be past your knees – if they are, he’s leading you. Simply answer his question; the moment his ears get past your leg, give a gentle tug on the leash (think of how quickly a sewing machine needles goes up and down; that's how you should look with that tug). If necessary, pivot on your foot so you are now facing him, again, looking like you are a door that just closed on him. When Fido backs up to where he belongs, and/or looks away, you’re good to “unslam” the door and move on. No pulling, no dragging, and no restraining. Merely answering questions. The most important part is to stay calm. If you are yelling, and shrieking, or you look bizarre with your body language, you will only be adding to the energy you are actually tying to dissipate. At first, Fido is going to have a lot of questions that need answering, because let’s face it, he’s always lead you on the walks before. Stick with it. Don't set a time limit, set a patience limit. If you can do it for 10 minutes without losing patience, then do it. If your timeframe is only 30 seconds, that's fine. You won't be answering as many questions for your dog, but you will be answering them without fear or frustration, making it easier next time. If you're intimidated by answering so many questions, stick with a spot that's less question intense, such as your back yard, or even strolling through your house. Answer his question each and every time he asks if he should lead this walk. The first 10 minutes are going to be very frustrating for you. The next 10 minutes will be less so. The final 10 minutes are going to be like a whole new, positive experience. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio

Fear makes strangers of people who would be friends. - Shirley MacLaine “My dog is aggressive towards strangers" “My dog is fearful.” “My dog is skittish.” I hear these phrases constantly. Some dogs are goofy, fun-loving balls of affection who have never met a stranger, just an unknown friend. Then we have dogs who have what I call a healthy sense of self-preservation. My Orion used to be like that. No, Orion wasn’t abused, which is a common misconception with dogs such as these. As humans we try to rationalize and explain behavior. It must have a cause! Something precise that has caused our dogs to be wary of the world. But the world doesn’t work like that. For example, my daughter, River, is the most fun-loving, outgoing creature I have ever met. She when she was five, explained to a pizza delivery guy a that if he ever encountered a monster, she’d protect him. She then gave him a hug. River is the equivalent of a golden doodle: the life of the party who thrives on any type of human interaction. My daughter Robynn is completely different. She's more circumspect. She has wonderful social manners, but it takes her a long time to warm up to someone and feel comfortable. She needs to feel out and observe a situation before she participates in it. Neither of my kids have been abused. Both have been raised exactly the same way. We accept that kids can have different personalities, but we don’t allow much wiggle room for our canine companions. They have to be wriggly balls of fun, just desperate for human interaction, regardless of with whom, in order for the to be healthy, happy dogs. But just as not all humans are of that caliber (I certainly am not), not all dogs need to fit into the one-size-fits-all mentality of “dog behavior”. Orion, for instance, was a lot more wary and aloof than a typical Labrador Retriever. Orion was my Papillion. As a matter of fact, when I first met Orion, he bit me. Completely not his fault: he didn’t know me, and I had thrust my hand inside his carrier to retrieve him, as he had gotten caught in the back of it somehow. Any creature with a lick of sense (especially one weighing 5 lbs.) would do the same thing! It doesn’t mean he’s damaged, it means he has a sense of self-preservation. Gradually I built up Orion’s trust in me. I started by not yelling, kicking, hitting or otherwise abusing him. Common sense, right? The longer I went without kicking Orion, he figured the more likely it was that I wasn’t going to start. But there's more to it than that. I let him be. Be calm, be scared, be anxious, or be affectionate. I let him be curious or shy. But most importantly, I let him be safe. I didn't force affection on him, nor did I immediately try teaching him tricks or commands (I hate that word: "commands"). If he didn't feel safe enough to be close to me, why would I force him to do commands that I would then have to enforce if he didn't do them. So I let him gradually come out of his shell, letting him set up the pace, but with me setting up the boundaries. I created a safe little haven for him that he could retreat to. I didn't praise him with a lot of energy, nor did I try to bribe him into being my friend with food (although that works with some dogs, it didn't with Orion). Above all else, I watched my body language and my energy levels. Calm and monotone words, if used at all. My body language was soft, but under control. I made sure to never point my stomach at him, only coming at him from the hip, or almost backing up to him. After only about 24 hours of this, he was decompressed enough to start to trust me just a little bit. I was able to sit on the floor and he would sidle up to me. I didn't use that as an opportunity to force affection on him; I would simply sit next to him. Gradually, he would accept me touching him. I never moved past his boundaries for comfort, and I gradually introduced him to life in our house. Things went pretty quickly after about 3 days. There’s a difference between a friend and a protector. A friend is someone you love; a protector is someone you trust. And there is a big difference between love and trust. I was to become both. I needed to Pilot Orion. In other words, I needed to not only answer all of his tough questions (such as, “Is that person a threat?” and, “Should I be afraid?”), but I had to get him to trust me enough to forgo his own determination of a situation and accept my answer. One of the easiest ways to start is by teaching a new trick, such as sit, stay, etc., or even things like agility or fetch. You’re working together as a team with a common goal: communication. Look at it like this: What if I told you to sell everything you own and invest a certain stock? Your reaction would probably be, Why on earth should I listen to you and do something so potentially catastrophic?! You’d be crazy to just listen to me regarding such a decision. However, what if I started off with small suggestions, such as putting $5 towards something. You take a look at my situation, which seems financially comfortable, and decide to take the $5 plunge. That $5 turns into $10. Your faith in my decisions is boosted. I give you another suggestion, you take it, and make more money, or, at the very least, don’t lose any. Pretty soon you’re actively looking to me for suggestions. That’s how it works with dogs. You have to give them a reason why your answers to their questions are better than what they can come up with. That’s what Piloting is all about. Now obviously you can answer their questions with force, and with pain and anger, but that’s losing the most important part of the Piloting equation: trust. So how do you get a dog to trust you? Easy! Put them in very simple situations that require only a very small leap of faith, and then gradually up the ante. I several years ago, I boarded the world’s most adorable Labradoodle, Cody, in my home due to his owner’s injury and anticipated long convalescence. How did I get him accustomed to me, and used to my answering his questions? I started with agility. Teaching him to jump over a yardstick placed directly on the floor. Then adding stimulation: placing one end on a soup can, raising it just a bit. Then the next side is raised. Pretty soon Cody is trusting me enough to go bounding back and forth across the “jump”. If I had started out with the jump raised all the way…well, that’s a bit of a stretch; a leap of faith that I hadn't earned yet. He didn’t know me very well, and that’s an awful lot to ask of a dog. But by adding gradual amounts of stimulation to the situation, raising it slowly, I was able to expand his level of comfort with my decisions until eventually he trusts my answers more than he trusts his own. That is what Piloting is all about. So how do we put this in play with regard to stranger danger? Well, we need to start with the fact that it is okay that your dog is wary of strangers. We aren’t trying to change who your dog fundamentally is. But we can indeed broaden their horizons a bit. Get your dog to trust your answers with the small things, like walking by the man on the other side of the street. Answer their questions as you are walking, and make sure you are Pilot during the walk. Don’t just drag your dog along past the stranger – that’s forcing them past a situation, not answering their questions about the situation. Anxiety: fear of the unknown You need to Pilot your dog, and answer their questions about that situation to make the unknown, well, known. It may take a bit of mental fortitude on your part to make it past the first person, but if you are Pilot, take your time, and keep your patience, you will do it. Remember, this is difficult for your dog: this is the first time you are Piloting them past a perceived danger. It is a huge leap of faith on their part and should be treated as such. Just because you realize that the other person isn’t a threat doesn’t mean they do. But if you get them past the first person, answering their questions all the while, the second person is easier to get by, then the third, and so on. Pretty soon your dog is looking for your answers rather than coming up with their own. Orion was always wary of strangers. I allowed him to be. Unless I didn't. That’s the beauty of Piloting. If you don’t abuse the position, you can ask your dog to do marvelous things. Orion and I worked on his stranger danger, gradually upping the ante each time. First he had to walk calmly by strangers, which is difficult when you barely reach someone’s ankles – no wonder everything looked like a threat! (You try walking among a herd of elephants without being apprehensive, and then you’ll understand what a small dog can feel like on the sidewalk.) Next we worked on strangers approaching. They would ask to pet my dog, and I would let them…in a very controlled way. I would pick him up and present him rear first. If Orion would ask a question, such as “Can I make them stop petting me?”, I would answer his question by very gently tapping him on the derriere with all five fingers, similar to the way one taps out an email on a computer: no harder. It’s not about pain, it’s about getting him to refocus on me and the answer I was giving him. Calm, gentle positives if he accepted the stranger's touch calmly. Trust is integral. If I’m asking Orion to trust my judgment about someone, it’s up to me to keep him safe and make wise judgments. So if the individual who wants to pet Orion seems very hyper or is giving off a lot of negative energy, my answer is no. I politely explain that my dog isn't friendly. If they persist, I politely explain that I'm not friendly either. My first duty is to my dog, not to social graces. It’s up to me to put Orion in situations where he can thrive, not situations that test his faith in me to beyond capacity. I also didn't force Orion to take affection without a good reason. I never made him be pet just for the sake of being pet. Affection has to be mutual. My goal was to make sure he was acclimated to being touched by anyone, just in case circumstances arose where he needed to be (vet, boarding, etc.). I still make him accept being pet randomly, but only for one of two reasons: he truly wants to be pet by that person, or I need to work on his accepting touch to keep him from backsliding into not accepting touch from a strange human. As Orion gradually accepted being pet by strangers, he was always given a reward. For Orion, food didn't do much, at least not at first, but calm gentle praise certainly did. He wanted to know he was on the right track, and I most definitely assured him of it. Answer his questions, give positive when he chose to accept the answer. Wash rinse repeat. Orion was always wary of strangers, but rather than immediately cowering in fear or lashing out when someone decides to pet him, he took on a different approach. He would look at me. He expected me to answer his questions about the situation. Sometimes he had to accept that he will be pet, but since I’ve always protected him during the petting, he stopped afraid . He turned into the dog who will warm up to a stranger after a bit, and actually “asked” to be pet – even to the point of visiting a local nursing home, something that I never thought would happen when I first got him. Orion came a long way from that frightened little creature he once was. Yes, I put a lot of effort into Piloting him and answering his questions, but it’s always easier to be the one answering questions than the one who has to take a leap of faith. It's easier to say "trust me" than it is to trust. That’s why I’ll always strive to be worthy of the Pilot position with any of my dogs, and never shake their faith through ego or vanity or putting them in situations that we haven’t worked towards yet. The only negative I'll ever accept from a dog is "don't touch me". I've worked with any and every dog behavior you can imagine: from a dog who was terrified of the oven to the point of actually attacking it, to your average puppy kindergarten. From separation anxiety to aggression. I use the PAW Method to train these dogs, and Piloting to communicate, but no matter the issue, the moment a dog asks me not to touch them, I respect that request. Afterall, they have ways of enforcing that request. And part of the mantra of Piloting is control your self, control the situation. So if I try to #HarveyWeinstein them, of course I expect them to retaliate. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter if your dog likes someone or not. I don't like every human, but I know how to be social. I have the bounds of polite society to protect me; rules we all live by. Taboos we avoid. These things make us feel safe as humans. Dogs have these rules, too. They're just differently enforced and communicated. By taking a dog and thrusting them into a human world, it is our responsibility to ensure we help translate this world for them, and make them feel loved and protected, and that protection comes from answering their questions about our world. Kerry Stack Darwin Dogs Dog Training in Cleveland, Ohio