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I'm a long-time trainer, who crossed over from the traditional / aversive methods i was taught in my youth to science-based tools & techniques, & funnily enough, the less i punished nonhumans, & the more i taught them, instead, the smarter they seemed to become. 
Teaching them what i want saves me a tremendous amount of time, as i don't have to un-teach errors [which takes forever & a day] but just install what's wanted & reward it when i see it again, which is surely much easier. If things go on as they began, soon i won't have to teach them anything, as i'll become telepathic & they'll read my desires in my mind before i can even indicate them, LOL, & next they'll be training me.
I trained my 1st dog, a pup who'd been abandoned in our farm driveway, thru 4-H when i was 10-YO & he was 4-MO [we weren't sure of his age, & went by the loss of his 1st tooth, which later became obvious had been an accident, so without knowing it, we'd added 2-mos to his age, which got him an early start]. // The instructor, Mrs Arnold, was a GSD breeder who'd hand-picked her foundation stock in Germany & flew them home, many years before. Her dogs were gorgeous, beautiful physical specimens, but their temperament was what made them most beautiful to me, as they were active dogs, ready for anything on offer, but calm, easygoing, & sociable.
She had the 1st red-&-blacks i'd ever seen, & a few blanketed dogs [black over the back & down to the hocks behind & pasterns before], but most were classic B&T, some with grizzling over the shoulder-cape that increased with age. A few had the old-fashioned spectacle markings of wolf-type GSDs from the 1930s; none had sable-tipping. She showed her dogs in the breed ring, but felt that competitive obedience was more important than a beauty contest, as it showed what her dogs could do, so she had bitches whelping litters who had achieved AKC Utility titles - an incredibly rare thing even among dogs at the time, & practically unheard-of in bitches, as there were no hormone shots to suppress estrus, & shows had to be scheduled around a bitch's expected heats. 90% of breeders couldn't be bothered to show Fs at all - Ms got all the ribbons, & bitches were just puppy-making machines bred to whichever sire the breeder most-admired.
Her weekly classes were run military style, exercises had the whole class move as a block - "heel Ur dogs... double-time!... walk Ur dogs... prepare to halt... class, halt"... "Wolf, sit... good boy".
But altho she was demanding & strict, she was also fair, & praised dogs 4 or 5 times as often as she corrected them; choke-collars were required, but they were convertible, with leather tabs that changed them over from a slip-chain to a still collar.
She never handled a dog harshly, her corrections were brief & timely, & dogs adored her. // Wolf & i got a red ribbon at our 1st Grange Fair [my fault entirely - i scolded him by name for sniffing during the long down, ALL the dogs were sniffing, the sawdust in the show-ring had been churned by many hooves & feet; he broke his down, thinking i'd called him ].
At our 2nd Grange Fair the next fall, he got the blue he'd deserved.
Mrs Arnold was my mentor for 3 years, & i learned a tremendous amount from her, but i still felt something was missing.
By the time i was 17-YO & a freshman in college, i was training other folks' dogs, & horses as well - i'd had my 1st pony at 8-YO, & broke my own 3-YO mare when i was 15. But it was parrots who opened my eyes to reward-based training.
U can't put a choke-chain or shock-collar on a parrot; U teach them by rewarding what U want, or U get nowhere. Scream at a parrot, & far from intimidating them into silence, they'll shriek right back at U, & louder than U ever can. :huh: Obviously, more finesse is required. :lol: // I discovered marker training, & a whole new world opened.
I don't use a marker for everything, but for some goals, it's indispensable. I haven't used a choke-chain since my teens, nor a prong-collar, & my experiences with an anti-barking shock collar convinced me that even the unplanned side-effects of shock when NOT used in training cued behavior, were far-too damaging to be worth any theoretical "advantages".
I've worked with a whole lotta dogs, & many many other species as well - parrots, cats, horses, other livestock, herps, exotics, & wildlife. I haven't used a choke-chain / infinite slip collar since my teens, & prong collars, shock collars, & other aversive tools have been off the menu for decades. I lure, capture, or shape the behaviors i want, & if i can't, i don't blame the animal - i take a long hard look at what i'm doing, figure out what i'm doing wrong or why i'm not communicating, & find another way to teach it.
In 1985 after many years of training [teach cued behaviors], i decided to specialize in B-Mod. I love the puzzle of problem behaviors & how to reduce, redirect, or extinguish them. The variety is endless, & the process never gets stale. I still get the same thrill when we have a breakthru, & the animal gives me that dawning look - "Is that all U wanted?! - I can do that!..."
I've done a lot of pro-bono work, both training & B-Mod, for various shelters & rescues; much of that was during the 12 years that i lived in Virginia, which was a sort of exile for me. My birth state, Pennsy, is conservative, but by God, the Old Dominion makes Pennsy look like California on a bad day. Virginia is just plain backward; there are folks there who'd fight the Cival War all over again, in the hope that the South might win, this time. They spend so much time looking backward to their glory days, they can't see the present. I could join the D.A.R., the Daughters of the American Republic - my family arrived here sufficiently long-ago -- but why join a hidebound association whose main claim to fame is barring any new blood? :blink:
And i HATED the climate - long hot sticky summers, 3-mos of cloudy windy wet cold winter, unrelieved by the beauty of snow, & a couple weeks of mud season in-between the 2. No real spring, just a rapid transition to heat, & no COLOR in autumn - just shades of brown, from sere grass to dark sedge, with one thread of scarlet rarely-seen, Virginia creeper. Otherwise, fall & winter were indistinguishable - the dark greens of live-oaks & pines, all else drear beiges & browns, & a gray sky over it all.
I saw an ad looking for someone to do all the B-Mod for an established training business, in Ohio - I applied, & 12-weeks later, after endless e-mails, phone calls, lists of courses i'd taken, my past experience, personal references... I had the job. I spent $1200 to get out of my lease, gave away & sold everything i wasn't keeping, packed a POD with the rest, took 2 50-pound suitcases & a shoulder-bag, & caught the train north.
The last leg was a red-eye bus from Pittsburgh to Columbus - i arrived at 5:30-am. // I'd told my hostess not to worry about meeting me, to come along when she had time, & texted her i'd arrived at 10-am. // She came to pick me up at 3:30 that afternoon, & during the hour-long drive, the 1st bombshell stunned me - she said, "my husband decided we can't have a stranger living in our home".
I was supposed to care for their livestock, & the dogs left behind, when she went to shows with their Anatolians for 3 & 4 days at a time; rip out the 3-ft tall fence, & install a 6-ft one around the house lot; cover all the B-Mod cases that came along, & drum up more on my own; & help out at the training location. HOW COULD I DO THAT, if i wasn't there?... they had a 4-bedroom house, why had she waited til now to tell me that there was no room in it for me?! - it had been THREE MONTHS; i had no apartment to return to. My POD was in storage. And i was here.
She told me she'd phoned a friend who was willing to share her house.
... she dropped me off at a tiny near-shack, a one-bedroom ramshackle that was home to an old woman, 7 dogs [only 4 housetrained], & 3 kittens with diarrhea. Then she left.
The lady of the house was in her 70s, worked at Wal-Mart, & to make ends meet, groomed dogs in her home. She gave me the bedroom so that i'd have a door to close, as the dogs would have peed all over my luggage & the kittens would have used it as a refuge to flee the dogs - who followed them about constantly, waiting for poop to emerge so they could eat it, as if the kittens were animated Pez-dispensers.
It was H***. The house was filthy, i do not exaggerate - i swept the floor 3 times before i went to bed that night, there were drifts of hair ankle-deep around the edges of the 'living room' & kitchen. The floor was so dirty, it crunched with grit underfoot. Every horizontal surface was the same color as the dirt driveway outside - & patterned with cats' paw prints; that included the old 1930s gas stove, which under all the crud was white enamel, & the linoleum counters.
There was a broom, no vacuum, & no dust-pan; i used paper plates to pick up literal pints of hair, dirt, & bits of trash. I was in shock.
I stripped the bed, put my own [clean] sheets on it, & fell into sleep. The next morning, the nightmare continued. I discovered my hostess had been given just 45-minutes notice - the trainer had called her, asked if she'd mind a housemate, & simply dropped me off like an unwanted puppy.
I also learned i was at one of the points of a triangle - the trainer's HOUSE in one town, her BUSINESS in another, & me - in Bucyrus, with no public transit. GAAH!... if she'd dumped me in the same town as her business, there was at least bus service, there. Here, i was afoot. // I have no job, i'm sharing a hovel, no way to get around, there's no WiFi in this house, i have no local references, & this is an impossible situation.
I went to the library & hit the 'Net. I phoned the local hospital, the Senior Center, & several retirement homes - i have lots of experience as a caregiver. // No PCA-needed lists, no patients being discharged who'd requested in-home help, & no openings for someone who's new to town. I searched CraigsList & Care.com, nothing.
On Wed, back to the library & the 'Net. The trainer won't even give me contact-info for the 3 B-Mod cases that were waiting for help, so i can make SOME money; thank God, i brought food with me, but it's running low.
Wed. evening i find an ad for a ride-share, the poster is headed to New Jersey from Columbus. I e-mail him & ask what he wants? -- $100 to split tolls & gas. OK.
Meanwhile, i contact a fellow trainer in Boston, explain my situation, & she says, "get to Boston & i'll pick U up - U can sleep on my sofa". // Done. Friday evening my erstwhile 'employer' drives me to a mall, i meet my driver in front of the film-plex, & we leave for Philthy. // At 30th & Market, he drops me off; i catch the train north. My friend drives down, collects me & my baggage, & we go to her house.
That was July 2012. // I moved from VA to Ohio, & from Ohio to Massachusetts, in a week - Saturday at 6-am, i left Newport News via Amtrak, & the following Saturday, i was in Salem, MA before noon. Life is full of surprises. I am so, so glad to be back in FOUR seasons, with autumn color, & among folks who aren't living with attitudes dating to the early-1800s. Dogs here are not chained in yards, don't sleep under a porch floor as a roof, & aren't limited to the vets' premises, public sidewalks, some parks [not all], & big-box pet supplies, as their only public venues.
Dogs in Boston are everywhere - they ride the buses & subway, are often in stores, welcome in outdoor cafes, & most parks allow dogs - the only NO DOGS areas are childrens' playgrounds. The dogs here are well-groomed & mostly well-mannered, urban if not urbane, & well-cared-for, living indoors with their families - not lonely beasts, waiting for someone to step outside.
Tidewater-VA is stuffed with shelters that overflow with unwanted dogs & cats, kittens & puppies - Massachusetts imports unwanted 'surplus' pets from high-kill shelters out of state, to satisfy local demand. It's a big improvement. I'm happy to be here.
- terry
Terry Pride, certified Vet's Assistant / PCA / CHHA
member Truly Dog-Friendly
'dogs R dogs, wolves R wolves, & primates R us.' -- (™ 2007)
Teaching them what i want saves me a tremendous amount of time, as i don't have to un-teach errors [which takes forever & a day] but just install what's wanted & reward it when i see it again, which is surely much easier. If things go on as they began, soon i won't have to teach them anything, as i'll become telepathic & they'll read my desires in my mind before i can even indicate them, LOL, & next they'll be training me.
I trained my 1st dog, a pup who'd been abandoned in our farm driveway, thru 4-H when i was 10-YO & he was 4-MO [we weren't sure of his age, & went by the loss of his 1st tooth, which later became obvious had been an accident, so without knowing it, we'd added 2-mos to his age, which got him an early start]. // The instructor, Mrs Arnold, was a GSD breeder who'd hand-picked her foundation stock in Germany & flew them home, many years before. Her dogs were gorgeous, beautiful physical specimens, but their temperament was what made them most beautiful to me, as they were active dogs, ready for anything on offer, but calm, easygoing, & sociable.
She had the 1st red-&-blacks i'd ever seen, & a few blanketed dogs [black over the back & down to the hocks behind & pasterns before], but most were classic B&T, some with grizzling over the shoulder-cape that increased with age. A few had the old-fashioned spectacle markings of wolf-type GSDs from the 1930s; none had sable-tipping. She showed her dogs in the breed ring, but felt that competitive obedience was more important than a beauty contest, as it showed what her dogs could do, so she had bitches whelping litters who had achieved AKC Utility titles - an incredibly rare thing even among dogs at the time, & practically unheard-of in bitches, as there were no hormone shots to suppress estrus, & shows had to be scheduled around a bitch's expected heats. 90% of breeders couldn't be bothered to show Fs at all - Ms got all the ribbons, & bitches were just puppy-making machines bred to whichever sire the breeder most-admired.
Her weekly classes were run military style, exercises had the whole class move as a block - "heel Ur dogs... double-time!... walk Ur dogs... prepare to halt... class, halt"... "Wolf, sit... good boy".
But altho she was demanding & strict, she was also fair, & praised dogs 4 or 5 times as often as she corrected them; choke-collars were required, but they were convertible, with leather tabs that changed them over from a slip-chain to a still collar.
She never handled a dog harshly, her corrections were brief & timely, & dogs adored her. // Wolf & i got a red ribbon at our 1st Grange Fair [my fault entirely - i scolded him by name for sniffing during the long down, ALL the dogs were sniffing, the sawdust in the show-ring had been churned by many hooves & feet; he broke his down, thinking i'd called him
].At our 2nd Grange Fair the next fall, he got the blue he'd deserved.
Mrs Arnold was my mentor for 3 years, & i learned a tremendous amount from her, but i still felt something was missing.
By the time i was 17-YO & a freshman in college, i was training other folks' dogs, & horses as well - i'd had my 1st pony at 8-YO, & broke my own 3-YO mare when i was 15. But it was parrots who opened my eyes to reward-based training.
U can't put a choke-chain or shock-collar on a parrot; U teach them by rewarding what U want, or U get nowhere. Scream at a parrot, & far from intimidating them into silence, they'll shriek right back at U, & louder than U ever can. :huh: Obviously, more finesse is required. :lol: // I discovered marker training, & a whole new world opened.
I don't use a marker for everything, but for some goals, it's indispensable. I haven't used a choke-chain since my teens, nor a prong-collar, & my experiences with an anti-barking shock collar convinced me that even the unplanned side-effects of shock when NOT used in training cued behavior, were far-too damaging to be worth any theoretical "advantages".
I've worked with a whole lotta dogs, & many many other species as well - parrots, cats, horses, other livestock, herps, exotics, & wildlife. I haven't used a choke-chain / infinite slip collar since my teens, & prong collars, shock collars, & other aversive tools have been off the menu for decades. I lure, capture, or shape the behaviors i want, & if i can't, i don't blame the animal - i take a long hard look at what i'm doing, figure out what i'm doing wrong or why i'm not communicating, & find another way to teach it.
In 1985 after many years of training [teach cued behaviors], i decided to specialize in B-Mod. I love the puzzle of problem behaviors & how to reduce, redirect, or extinguish them. The variety is endless, & the process never gets stale. I still get the same thrill when we have a breakthru, & the animal gives me that dawning look - "Is that all U wanted?! -
I can do that!..."I've done a lot of pro-bono work, both training & B-Mod, for various shelters & rescues; much of that was during the 12 years that i lived in Virginia, which was a sort of exile for me.
My birth state, Pennsy, is conservative, but by God, the Old Dominion makes Pennsy look like California on a bad day. Virginia is just plain backward; there are folks there who'd fight the Cival War all over again, in the hope that the South might win, this time. They spend so much time looking backward to their glory days, they can't see the present. I could join the D.A.R., the Daughters of the American Republic - my family arrived here sufficiently long-ago -- but why join a hidebound association whose main claim to fame is barring any new blood? :blink: And i HATED the climate - long hot sticky summers, 3-mos of cloudy windy wet cold winter, unrelieved by the beauty of snow, & a couple weeks of mud season in-between the 2.
No real spring, just a rapid transition to heat, & no COLOR in autumn - just shades of brown, from sere grass to dark sedge, with one thread of scarlet rarely-seen, Virginia creeper. Otherwise, fall & winter were indistinguishable - the dark greens of live-oaks & pines, all else drear beiges & browns, & a gray sky over it all.I saw an ad looking for someone to do all the B-Mod for an established training business, in Ohio - I applied, & 12-weeks later, after endless e-mails, phone calls, lists of courses i'd taken, my past experience, personal references... I had the job. I spent $1200 to get out of my lease, gave away & sold everything i wasn't keeping, packed a POD with the rest, took 2 50-pound suitcases & a shoulder-bag, & caught the train north.
The last leg was a red-eye bus from Pittsburgh to Columbus - i arrived at 5:30-am. // I'd told my hostess not to worry about meeting me, to come along when she had time, & texted her i'd arrived at 10-am. // She came to pick me up at 3:30 that afternoon, & during the hour-long drive, the 1st bombshell stunned me - she said, "my husband decided we can't have a stranger living in our home".
I was supposed to care for their livestock, & the dogs left behind, when she went to shows with their Anatolians for 3 & 4 days at a time; rip out the 3-ft tall fence, & install a 6-ft one around the house lot; cover all the B-Mod cases that came along, & drum up more on my own; & help out at the training location. HOW COULD I DO THAT, if i wasn't there?... they had a 4-bedroom house, why had she waited til now to tell me that there was no room in it for me?! - it had been THREE MONTHS; i had no apartment to return to. My POD was in storage. And i was here.
She told me she'd phoned a friend who was willing to share her house.
... she dropped me off at a tiny near-shack, a one-bedroom ramshackle that was home to an old woman, 7 dogs [only 4 housetrained], & 3 kittens with diarrhea. Then she left.The lady of the house was in her 70s, worked at Wal-Mart, & to make ends meet, groomed dogs in her home. She gave me the bedroom so that i'd have a door to close, as the dogs would have peed all over my luggage & the kittens would have used it as a refuge to flee the dogs - who followed them about constantly, waiting for poop to emerge so they could eat it, as if the kittens were animated Pez-dispensers.
It was H***. The house was filthy, i do not exaggerate - i swept the floor 3 times before i went to bed that night, there were drifts of hair ankle-deep around the edges of the 'living room' & kitchen. The floor was so dirty, it crunched with grit underfoot. Every horizontal surface was the same color as the dirt driveway outside - & patterned with cats' paw prints; that included the old 1930s gas stove, which under all the crud was white enamel, & the linoleum counters.
There was a broom, no vacuum, & no dust-pan; i used paper plates to pick up literal pints of hair, dirt, & bits of trash. I was in shock.
I stripped the bed, put my own [clean] sheets on it, & fell into sleep. The next morning, the nightmare continued. I discovered my hostess had been given just 45-minutes notice - the trainer had called her, asked if she'd mind a housemate, & simply dropped me off like an unwanted puppy.
I also learned i was at one of the points of a triangle - the trainer's HOUSE in one town, her BUSINESS in another, & me - in Bucyrus, with no public transit. GAAH!... if she'd dumped me in the same town as her business, there was at least bus service, there. Here, i was afoot. // I have no job, i'm sharing a hovel, no way to get around, there's no WiFi in this house, i have no local references, & this is an impossible situation.
I went to the library & hit the 'Net. I phoned the local hospital, the Senior Center, & several retirement homes - i have lots of experience as a caregiver. // No PCA-needed lists, no patients being discharged who'd requested in-home help, & no openings for someone who's new to town. I searched CraigsList & Care.com, nothing.
On Wed, back to the library & the 'Net. The trainer won't even give me contact-info for the 3 B-Mod cases that were waiting for help, so i can make SOME money; thank God, i brought food with me, but it's running low.
Wed. evening i find an ad for a ride-share, the poster is headed to New Jersey from Columbus. I e-mail him & ask what he wants? -- $100 to split tolls & gas. OK.
Meanwhile, i contact a fellow trainer in Boston, explain my situation, & she says, "get to Boston & i'll pick U up - U can sleep on my sofa". // Done. Friday evening my erstwhile 'employer' drives me to a mall, i meet my driver in front of the film-plex, & we leave for Philthy. // At 30th & Market, he drops me off; i catch the train north. My friend drives down, collects me & my baggage, & we go to her house.
That was July 2012. // I moved from VA to Ohio, & from Ohio to Massachusetts, in a week - Saturday at 6-am, i left Newport News via Amtrak, & the following Saturday, i was in Salem, MA before noon.
Life is full of surprises. I am so, so glad to be back in FOUR seasons, with autumn color, & among folks who aren't living with attitudes dating to the early-1800s. Dogs here are not chained in yards, don't sleep under a porch floor as a roof, & aren't limited to the vets' premises, public sidewalks, some parks [not all], & big-box pet supplies, as their only public venues.Dogs in Boston are everywhere - they ride the buses & subway, are often in stores, welcome in outdoor cafes, & most parks allow dogs - the only NO DOGS areas are childrens' playgrounds. The dogs here are well-groomed & mostly well-mannered, urban if not urbane, & well-cared-for, living indoors with their families - not lonely beasts, waiting for someone to step outside.
Tidewater-VA is stuffed with shelters that overflow with unwanted dogs & cats, kittens & puppies - Massachusetts imports unwanted 'surplus' pets from high-kill shelters out of state, to satisfy local demand.
It's a big improvement. I'm happy to be here.- terry
Terry Pride, certified Vet's Assistant / PCA / CHHA
member Truly Dog-Friendly
'dogs R dogs, wolves R wolves, & primates R us.' -- (™ 2007)
