When I took my first agility class, I was casually referring to my dog, Sweets as "sensitive" and I wasn't quite sure how she'd do in classes. Sweets usually is startled by loud noises, will avoid the baby gate like the plague (as it's fallen a few too many times).
This is also a dog that I've seen running off leash with wild abandon, hiking and climbing boulders and jumping fallen trees like a deer.
Flash forward- Sweets is now participating in Agility without the slightest bit of stress. Is taking jumps with glee, and climbing the A frame and dog walk for fun. What gives? Read below for lessons learned (the hard way) by the trainer herself.
1. Know your dog's Sensitivities
Look, nobody knows your dog like you. Here's what I "knew"- Sweets was sensitive to things falling and to some noises, so she would startle if the bar fell on the jump. She was also space sensitive- going between the uprights of the jump was a big deal for her.
So, I took an agility class with her as a pup. On one occassion we were late to class (it happens). Anyway, she had no time to acclimate and the instructor immediately had her get to jumping. She was reluctant. Then a bar fell and she was in stressville.
Lesson Learned:
Don't begin working with your dog until they have a few minutes to sniff around and get comfortable.
2. Read and Respect your Dog’s Body Language No Matter What Someone else Tells You
Though we may all have different thresholds of what we consider acceptable play behavior, remember, body language seldom lies. If you know what to look for, then you know stress often looks like this- tail dropping, panting, whining, scratching, head dropping and refusing food, eyes “bugging out” and generally a dog that appears shut down and is not a willing particpant.
There we were in class ready to try the weave poles. Remember our space sensitive issues? The weave poles are set up, using an accordian gate to guide the dog (think a cattle chute). The instructor promptly drags her on leash into the gaunlet, she puts on the brakes, refuses to go while her eyes are bugging out of her head.
Lesson Learned:
It is okay to say “nope, not doing this”. In any future classes we took, she was NEVER forced onto a piece of equipment.
3. Interpretations, Stories and other Disempowering Stuff
So we’re about to try the teeter now, you know, the big see saw for dogs. Given her near heart attack with the weave poles, I was praying for a miracle. In fact, I never thought I'd ever get her on the teeter, period. While the teeter is set low, and we are attempting to lure her with hot dogs- Sweets refuses to follow the food.
The instructor says, “is she the only dog at home?”
“Yes”
“Well if she had other dogs to compete for a resource with, she’d probably wouldn't refuse food"
Huh?
"Sees how she gets stressed and you help her out and she doesn’t have to figure things out on her own? It's learned helplessness.”
Huh again?
Apparently the “story” was hotdogs should motivate to get her on a moving 12 inch board. And because she refused to walk the plank or eat the food, she had learned to act helpless and I had reinforced this?
Lesson Learned:
Good story, but a little thin on plot. This kind of thinking about our dogs does NOTHING to empower having a good relationship with them. Going with the “Keep it Simple Stupid” Principle, perhaps she was not motivated or stressed? Sounds much more believable to me.
Three years after our first and only agility class, I began to think of her as incapable of excelling at this sport. So, I gave up.
I bought into the “she’s too sensitive” and figured that Rally-O was her thing. I also happened to begin working with a great trainer and colleague, Ali Brown of Great Companions. I think it’s much due to Ali’s commitment to not having limitations on our dogs, that had me get her back in the game. And she looks now to be much more of a prospect in Agility then I’d ever thought possible.
Lesson Learned:
Sometimes the limitations we impose on our dogs, simply are our own!
