Well, I thought I should write a little more about this, because I want people to know more about the controversy that is e-collar training.
Suffice to say, this is one of the most divisive subjects you can bring up about dog training, so here's my take:
E-Collars are a TOOL. They are not evil in of themselves. The stimulation it delivers can range from a mild tingly feeling (like when your leg falls asleep) to a "Yowza! that hurts!" sting (have you ever touched an electric fence meant to keep horses in? It's about like that). The remote allows the trainer to change the setting for what he/she thinks is right for his dog. But... It is VERY easy to use this tool in an abusive way. People who use them extensively are either VERY skilled, or they are abusing their dogs, and it can be a fine line in between.
My second objection is that they are completely unnecessary for basic obedience training. I can make a dog sit, lie down, and stay with no forceful or painful actions at all, so why even go there? If I use treats wrong, well, my dog just won't learn anything, and maybe get fat from all the treats, but if I use a shock collar wrong, he could become afraid of me, and that's the last thing I want. The directions that came with Bruno's collar made me mad. Basically, they asked you to find the level of stim that bothers your dog, but isn't torture (so he paws the collar, but doesn't whine or scream, for example). Then you shock him while forcing him to do the command (using a leash to pull him into a down, for example) and stop the shock as soon as he's in the position. THE PAIN STOPS IF HE OBEYS. That just seems...wrong. I'm sure that eventually the dog will figure this out and will obey you lightning-fast, but it's learning based on pain and fear. I know many trainers have excellent results using e-collars, but the dogs have to have a high pain tolerance, quick bounceback, and be tolerant of forceful handling. That obviously isn't every dog. Bruno shrieked at even the lowest level of stim.
So... There is ONE use for the e-collar that I feel is completely justified: stopping predatory chasing. It works, and there are few other ways to get the results. Traumatic memories are VERY hard to erase (it's called PTSD in severe, human cases...) which is why it works so well. I will admit that openly- Yes, I want to build a traumatic association in my dog. I want him to feel uneasy around prey animals and ignore or avoid them, instead of killing them. I think it's a fair trade-off. It saves the poor bunnies and kitties, saves my peace of mind, and might even save my dog's life, if it stops him from chasing a deer into the woods, attacking sheep and getting shot by an angry rancher, or darting across the road after a squirrel and getting squished by a car.
But I don't stop there... I still work diligently to build my dog's recall so that he will return to me BEFORE an incident starts, so I don't have to use the shock. I use positive-only training for this.
So far, it's working well. Bruno willingly submits to the collar, and is even eager to have it on (because he's built a positive association as well: e-collar=going for a walk). His recall is getting much better, thanks to the doggy crack I tend to carry around with me. (Yes, I know, it's a horrible, horrible product, that will rot his teeth, make him fart, etc. But it works, and only takes a little bit at a time.)
So I will not say that "E-Collars are for evil dog abusers!" or "E-Collars are wonderful, and people who hate them are pansies!" I have a specific use for one, and it works for me and my dog. I would strongly hesitate to use it for anything other than predatory aggression, though.
Showing posts with label Bruno. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bruno. Show all posts
Friday, August 27, 2010
Close Call
I should write about this while it's still fresh in my memory and before I make the same mistake again (hopefully NEVER!)
While hiking on Mt. Hood, Bruno got loose from me and chased a deer. He was only gone about 15 minutes, but it could have been forever. If he hadn't come back, he could have been lost in a huge, mostly roadless and trail-less, VERY rugged wildness. There was even a sign at the trailhead warning that the Sheriff's Dept. will NOT do technical rescues for stranded dogs- if your dog falls down a crevasse, it's your problem, not theirs.
So why did I let this happen? Stupidity. I chose NOT to put his remote collar on him that day, because I hadn't needed to correct him at all the previous day, and I wanted to save it's battery. For WHAT? This was exactly the kind of situation the collar prevents. I thought that since I had him trained not to chase cats, chickens, and squirrels, it would translate into "not chase anything."
Why? I KNOW that dogs are very poor at generalizing. Temple Grandin has said over and over in her books (several of which I've read and loved) that animals can't generalize, or can only do it in limited ways. That's why puppy socialization is SO important. Dogs don't know that ALL children are safe if they've only met a few, or ALL cats or ALL farm animals, even ALL types of flooring or weather. They need to experience as many things as possible while the critical period of socialization is still open. I'm quite sure Bruno's first owner totally missed the ball on that one, by the way.
So he spots a deer on the trail. In only a few seconds, I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "What is that? Can I chase it? It looks fun, but what if I get punished?" He turned back and looked at me, very briefly, as if to make up his mind. Then he's off like a shot, double-suspension gallop down a 45% slope in dense forest. The deer obviously did not trip the trained response in his brain that predatory chase=painful correction, that IS activated for cats and squirrels. It didn't fit.
I didn't have a compass, so I knew it would be utterly foolish to chase after him. What if I got lost too? I called and called and called, and then sat down and cried. All this work I've put into him, for nothing! I threw it away by not putting his e-collar on him, and so was unable to stop him and use this as a training experience, instead of a tragedy. I even prayed a little, and I don't consider myself a Christian these days.
Thankfully, he DID come to his senses and return to me, out-of-breath and overheated. I leashed him up and we continued the rest of the day on-leash, until I got back to camp and put his e-collar on.
I still don't exactly why I chose not to put it on him that day. Foggy lazy thinking. Makes no sense whatsoever. But I'm determined not to let it happen again.
Sidenote about e-collar training: I was harshly criticized by a few people on the dogster forums for using a remote shock collar, aka electronic collar, training collar, e-collar, etc. This is the collar I use. The ONLY time I use it is for stopping predatory chasing. NOT when he's just disobeying me- I deal with that in other ways, mostly positive. I am a fan of Temple Grandin, previously mentioned, and to her, the only ethical use of a shock collar is to stop predatory aggression. The short, sharp shock totally trips up their emotional track and short-circuits the prey drive. It has worked AMAZINGLY well on Bruno, I hardly ever have to correct him since I started it a couple months ago, and most of his behavior changed within a week of using it.
His prey drive was out of control. He would go NUTS strangling himself on his collar, screaming and barking to get to whatever it was, cat, squirrel, chicken, even large livestock like goats and horses. This was DANGEROUS behavior, and it was a choice of 1. Give him to someone with a VERY secure fence and no livestock nearby (unlikely to happen) 2. Euthanize him 3. Train him to have self-control, and the collar seemed the most effective way to do that.
He is NOT traumatized or shell-shocked into zombie-like behavior, as some people will assume with shock-collar training. He seems much calmer and more balanced on walks, now that he is not searching for animals to chase. His ears and tail say that he's calm and happy.
While hiking on Mt. Hood, Bruno got loose from me and chased a deer. He was only gone about 15 minutes, but it could have been forever. If he hadn't come back, he could have been lost in a huge, mostly roadless and trail-less, VERY rugged wildness. There was even a sign at the trailhead warning that the Sheriff's Dept. will NOT do technical rescues for stranded dogs- if your dog falls down a crevasse, it's your problem, not theirs.
So why did I let this happen? Stupidity. I chose NOT to put his remote collar on him that day, because I hadn't needed to correct him at all the previous day, and I wanted to save it's battery. For WHAT? This was exactly the kind of situation the collar prevents. I thought that since I had him trained not to chase cats, chickens, and squirrels, it would translate into "not chase anything."
Why? I KNOW that dogs are very poor at generalizing. Temple Grandin has said over and over in her books (several of which I've read and loved) that animals can't generalize, or can only do it in limited ways. That's why puppy socialization is SO important. Dogs don't know that ALL children are safe if they've only met a few, or ALL cats or ALL farm animals, even ALL types of flooring or weather. They need to experience as many things as possible while the critical period of socialization is still open. I'm quite sure Bruno's first owner totally missed the ball on that one, by the way.
So he spots a deer on the trail. In only a few seconds, I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "What is that? Can I chase it? It looks fun, but what if I get punished?" He turned back and looked at me, very briefly, as if to make up his mind. Then he's off like a shot, double-suspension gallop down a 45% slope in dense forest. The deer obviously did not trip the trained response in his brain that predatory chase=painful correction, that IS activated for cats and squirrels. It didn't fit.
I didn't have a compass, so I knew it would be utterly foolish to chase after him. What if I got lost too? I called and called and called, and then sat down and cried. All this work I've put into him, for nothing! I threw it away by not putting his e-collar on him, and so was unable to stop him and use this as a training experience, instead of a tragedy. I even prayed a little, and I don't consider myself a Christian these days.
Thankfully, he DID come to his senses and return to me, out-of-breath and overheated. I leashed him up and we continued the rest of the day on-leash, until I got back to camp and put his e-collar on.
I still don't exactly why I chose not to put it on him that day. Foggy lazy thinking. Makes no sense whatsoever. But I'm determined not to let it happen again.
Sidenote about e-collar training: I was harshly criticized by a few people on the dogster forums for using a remote shock collar, aka electronic collar, training collar, e-collar, etc. This is the collar I use. The ONLY time I use it is for stopping predatory chasing. NOT when he's just disobeying me- I deal with that in other ways, mostly positive. I am a fan of Temple Grandin, previously mentioned, and to her, the only ethical use of a shock collar is to stop predatory aggression. The short, sharp shock totally trips up their emotional track and short-circuits the prey drive. It has worked AMAZINGLY well on Bruno, I hardly ever have to correct him since I started it a couple months ago, and most of his behavior changed within a week of using it.
His prey drive was out of control. He would go NUTS strangling himself on his collar, screaming and barking to get to whatever it was, cat, squirrel, chicken, even large livestock like goats and horses. This was DANGEROUS behavior, and it was a choice of 1. Give him to someone with a VERY secure fence and no livestock nearby (unlikely to happen) 2. Euthanize him 3. Train him to have self-control, and the collar seemed the most effective way to do that.
He is NOT traumatized or shell-shocked into zombie-like behavior, as some people will assume with shock-collar training. He seems much calmer and more balanced on walks, now that he is not searching for animals to chase. His ears and tail say that he's calm and happy.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Bruno's Story
Bruno is a dog.
Bruno is a mixed-breed dog.
Bruno is a mixed-breed shelter dog.
Bruno is a big, black, mixed breed shelter dog.
Bruno is a big, black, mixed-breed high-kill "shelter" dog.
With each statement, his chances of making it out alive got less and less. He is one of the lucky ones at Pima Animal Care and Control, PACC, of Tucson, AZ. Last time I looked at the pet section of Tucson's craigslist, someone had posted that they killed 54 dogs in a day. None of these dogs were "unadoptable"; some were sick with minor illnesses (usually URI, upper respiratory infection- a cold), others had treatable injuries (such as from fighting with kennelmates, the dogs are kept 2-3 to a cage) some were pregnant or lactating, some were starved and skinny, and others were "too shy to adopt". Some had simply run out of time, and were killed to make room for new inmates.
Before their time was up, the dogs were kept in concrete-floored runs, overcrowded, no beds to lie on, and no walks except for the occasional volunteer. Even dogs previously housetrained were forced to eliminate in their sleeping area, which is very stressful to dogs.
For these reasons, it was practically imperative that I save a dog from that hellhole. I was visiting my dear sister Molly in Tucson, where she lived at the time. I was in Arizona to go to a primitive-skills campout/seminar called WinterCount (see backtracks.net for more info, if you're curious.) I had just lost my dear friend Ginger, an 11-year old racing-bred Alaskan Husky, and was craving canine companionship. (Ginger deserves a whole post of her own to tell her story, so I'll save it until then.)
So without telling anyone my plans, I sneaked out of her house, down to the pound "just to look at the dogs" and maybe choose one to come back and adopt later, after thinking about it for a few days. NOT! I had seen on their website that Bruno was half-price because he'd been there nearly two months, and though he didn't have a set "expiration date," his time was running out. I saw him sitting sadly in his kennel and it was love (or maybe pity) at first sight. I also said "Oh! I thought he was bigger!" because in his photo on the web, he looked Labrador or German Shepherd sized. Here was a trim little 50-pounder, not an 80 lb bruiser. "Bruno! What a dumb name! I'll have to change that," I thought. Ha- famous last words...
So I took him, paid my money, and walked out with a dog. Now what? I had no way to get him back to Molly's house, as I didn't have a car. This is how I even got to the shelter in the first place:
I had started walking, but it was WAYYY farther than it looked on a map. And it was hot, so I sat down at a bus shelter to wait and rest. As it ended up, a man who started talking to me offered to drive me the rest of the way there. Ah, what the heck. I have my phone and it's not far, I figured. The car was littered with McDonald's wrappers and there was a glass pipe full of marijuana in plain site. But he was kind.
How to get back? Well, Mr. messy-car-pothead had given me his phone number in a vain attempt to flirt with me, so I called him back, and he came and picked me and my new dog up and drove us to Molly's house.
The first thing anyone said when we came in the door- "Whose dog is that?" Well, he's mine now...
A few days passed, while I next put my brain to work figuring out how to get him and me back to Oregon. (for anyone not familiar with Western American Geography, that's a two day drive, at least.) Still no car. No money to pay for a plane ticket and have him in cargo. No dogs allowed on Greyhound (ironic, eh?) So that left one choice: The almightly CRAIGSLIST RIDESHARE.
I replied to posts that were even reasonable close to my destination- San Fran? Sure, I can find someone to take me the rest of the way to Portland. Seattle? Okay, just drop me off along the way. Boy, I can tell you, there are so WEIRD people out there. My first ride I thought I'd figured emailed me to tell me she decided to leave early without me. One guy insisted that I not wear deodorant while in his car. One guy told me that he had to stop in Indio, CA, so he could use his foodstamps. "No, dude, food stamps are a NATIONAL program, you can use them anywhere in the USA." He was sure that since he applied for them in Indio, he had to use them there. No use arguing with stupid, I guess...
I ended up getting a ride with a long-haul trucker (name withheld because he broke his company's rules to take me.) He was taking a load of scrap metal from Phoenix to San Francisco, and then going home to Portland. Score! A direct route.
The drive took two days. Where did we sleep? The cab of the truck had buckbeds in it- I took the top one, the trucker took the bottom. He snored like a jackhammer! During the day, we talked about the few things we had in common (a love of travel, dog ownership, that was pretty much it.) He said he wanted to get a dog to ride in his truck with him, but hadn't decided what kind would be best.
After 2 days and hundreds of miles and learning more than I will ever need to know about commercial trucking, we pulled in Portland, Oregon, my home town, and as they say, the rest is history.
Bruno is a mixed-breed dog.
Bruno is a mixed-breed shelter dog.
Bruno is a big, black, mixed breed shelter dog.
Bruno is a big, black, mixed-breed high-kill "shelter" dog.
With each statement, his chances of making it out alive got less and less. He is one of the lucky ones at Pima Animal Care and Control, PACC, of Tucson, AZ. Last time I looked at the pet section of Tucson's craigslist, someone had posted that they killed 54 dogs in a day. None of these dogs were "unadoptable"; some were sick with minor illnesses (usually URI, upper respiratory infection- a cold), others had treatable injuries (such as from fighting with kennelmates, the dogs are kept 2-3 to a cage) some were pregnant or lactating, some were starved and skinny, and others were "too shy to adopt". Some had simply run out of time, and were killed to make room for new inmates.
Before their time was up, the dogs were kept in concrete-floored runs, overcrowded, no beds to lie on, and no walks except for the occasional volunteer. Even dogs previously housetrained were forced to eliminate in their sleeping area, which is very stressful to dogs.
For these reasons, it was practically imperative that I save a dog from that hellhole. I was visiting my dear sister Molly in Tucson, where she lived at the time. I was in Arizona to go to a primitive-skills campout/seminar called WinterCount (see backtracks.net for more info, if you're curious.) I had just lost my dear friend Ginger, an 11-year old racing-bred Alaskan Husky, and was craving canine companionship. (Ginger deserves a whole post of her own to tell her story, so I'll save it until then.)
So without telling anyone my plans, I sneaked out of her house, down to the pound "just to look at the dogs" and maybe choose one to come back and adopt later, after thinking about it for a few days. NOT! I had seen on their website that Bruno was half-price because he'd been there nearly two months, and though he didn't have a set "expiration date," his time was running out. I saw him sitting sadly in his kennel and it was love (or maybe pity) at first sight. I also said "Oh! I thought he was bigger!" because in his photo on the web, he looked Labrador or German Shepherd sized. Here was a trim little 50-pounder, not an 80 lb bruiser. "Bruno! What a dumb name! I'll have to change that," I thought. Ha- famous last words...
So I took him, paid my money, and walked out with a dog. Now what? I had no way to get him back to Molly's house, as I didn't have a car. This is how I even got to the shelter in the first place:
I had started walking, but it was WAYYY farther than it looked on a map. And it was hot, so I sat down at a bus shelter to wait and rest. As it ended up, a man who started talking to me offered to drive me the rest of the way there. Ah, what the heck. I have my phone and it's not far, I figured. The car was littered with McDonald's wrappers and there was a glass pipe full of marijuana in plain site. But he was kind.
How to get back? Well, Mr. messy-car-pothead had given me his phone number in a vain attempt to flirt with me, so I called him back, and he came and picked me and my new dog up and drove us to Molly's house.
The first thing anyone said when we came in the door- "Whose dog is that?" Well, he's mine now...
A few days passed, while I next put my brain to work figuring out how to get him and me back to Oregon. (for anyone not familiar with Western American Geography, that's a two day drive, at least.) Still no car. No money to pay for a plane ticket and have him in cargo. No dogs allowed on Greyhound (ironic, eh?) So that left one choice: The almightly CRAIGSLIST RIDESHARE.
I replied to posts that were even reasonable close to my destination- San Fran? Sure, I can find someone to take me the rest of the way to Portland. Seattle? Okay, just drop me off along the way. Boy, I can tell you, there are so WEIRD people out there. My first ride I thought I'd figured emailed me to tell me she decided to leave early without me. One guy insisted that I not wear deodorant while in his car. One guy told me that he had to stop in Indio, CA, so he could use his foodstamps. "No, dude, food stamps are a NATIONAL program, you can use them anywhere in the USA." He was sure that since he applied for them in Indio, he had to use them there. No use arguing with stupid, I guess...
I ended up getting a ride with a long-haul trucker (name withheld because he broke his company's rules to take me.) He was taking a load of scrap metal from Phoenix to San Francisco, and then going home to Portland. Score! A direct route.
The drive took two days. Where did we sleep? The cab of the truck had buckbeds in it- I took the top one, the trucker took the bottom. He snored like a jackhammer! During the day, we talked about the few things we had in common (a love of travel, dog ownership, that was pretty much it.) He said he wanted to get a dog to ride in his truck with him, but hadn't decided what kind would be best.
After 2 days and hundreds of miles and learning more than I will ever need to know about commercial trucking, we pulled in Portland, Oregon, my home town, and as they say, the rest is history.
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