Bones Would Rain from the Sky: Deepening Our Relationships with Dogs Page 21

  i'll Go first-this may be dangerous Leadership should be born out of the understanding of the needs of those who would be affected by it. marian anderson flipping through channels in a hotel room one night, I chanced upon a spaghetti Western that was so broadly painted in its stereotypes that it was amusing. In one scene, the poor farm family is tending to chores (all, miraculously requiring the actors to be conveniently grouped right in front of the old homestead) when up rode the Bad Guy, a neighboring rancher who was foreclosing on their land. The young girl instantly fled behind her mother's billowing skirt, and the young man of the family bristled, ready to take on the Bad Guy using, I suppose, his bare ten-year-old hands. Dropping his shovel, the man of the family strode forward and, sweeping his family behind him with one powerful gesture, placed himself unmistakably as the front line of defense against whatever might be threatening his beloveds. Though it was a hackneyed scene, I was struck by the message contained in that gesture, and by the act of leadership displayed in the man's stepping forward: "You'll have to come through me first." This particular gesture of stepping forward into the line of fire, so to speak, is one that dogs understand and employ among themselves. Walk as a stranger into a room containing a bitch's puppies, and you may find yourself face-to-face with a watchful (if not downright

  wrathful) momma. Dogs with strong guardingstprotective instincts will automatically step forward to place themselves between a perceived threat and their people, a gesture that is most welcome when we find ourselves in frightening situations. On several occasions, my dogs have had need to step into the line of fire in the face of very real threats; when they stood growling between me and a threatening stranger on a dark street, my relief was boundless. Apart from control of or access to resources and the control or direction of behavior, there is a third component of leadership in the dog's world: proactive intervention. Rarely addressed in most training books, it is nonetheless critically important to the dog's perception of his own safety both within the home family group and out in the larger context of the world. Proactive intervention is something that most of us already understand and employ in our daily lives. Simply put, it means being alert to and willing to respond to any potential threats toward the ones we love, especially those more vulnerable than ourselves. No sane parent would allow anyone to come up to a child and begin slapping them around or even verbally harassing them. An appropriate protective response would be to quite literally put the child behind you, placing yourself directly between the threat and the child. In the simple act of stepping forward, you are establishing yourself as the one in charge and saying, though you may not utter a word, "You'll have to come through me first." he just wants to say "Hi!" Sadly, many dogs find themselves lacking the protective intervention of alert leadership. It is both unfortunate and shocking how many dogs presented to me as "dog aggressive" were actually feeling vulnerable and unprotected. In the majority of cases I've seen, the "aggressive" dog had been minding his own business and was often sitting or lying quietly at his owner's side when-either playfully or with more evil intent-the rude dog ran up, ran into, jumped on or attacked him. Inevitably, as the owners who have allowed their dogs to act rudely retreat from the situation, there are comments made about "that aggressive dog" (meaning the dog whose space had been invaded) and the classic comment, usually said in hurt tones, "He just wanted

  to say "hi!"" We would think very little of a parent who allowed a child to leap onto strangers while the parent did nothing more than smile and note, "He's a very friendly child." But dog owners frequently allow their dogs to act in equally rude ways, dashing up to other dogs and even leaping on them, and triggering defensive responses. Handlers of such dogs may not realize that they may be endangering their dog as well as putting other dogs and people in a difficult and unpleasant situation. Believing that their dogs are incapable of aggression, and not realizing that being rude is a form of aggression, they see only the growls or snarls of the dog who is on the receiving end of the rudeness. My experience has been that it is owners of breeds considered "nonaggressive" that cause the most problems in dog-to-dog interactions. This is not because these people are more careless or less intelligent than other dog owners. The problem arises simply from a complete lack of awareness that their dog is rude. To the owners of nonaggressive breeds, there doesn't appear to be any thought that rudeness can take many forms. Anyone can recognize that a dog lunging and snarling is being rude. Far too few folks recognize that simply getting into another's dog space-however sweetly and quietly-is just as rude in the world of dogs. Owners of rude dogs do not perceive their dogs' actions as rude; they see only "friendliness.8Thus the classic line, "He just wanted to say "hi!"" Alarmed, embarrassed and upset by their dog's aggressive display, owners are often unable to take careful stock of what triggered the unhappy event. Here's a real letter from a concerned owner: Cream is a sweet dog, good with commands, wonderful with people and children. She has regular dog pals that she plays with almost daily-they wrestle, play bite, and run around together. She's fine with dogs who are calm, but she has one problem: she hates young, hyper dogs. If a dog starts jumping all over Cream, Cream gets aggressive-starts to growl, shows some teeth, and if the dog doesn't take the hint after a few seconds, Cream will "attack" the dog. She only displays this aggressive behavior with young, hyper dogs. Let's change this a little to read: "Maggie is fine with people who are calm and well behaved, and interacts with

  them appropriately. She's also endlessly patient withand kind to children, even bratty ones. But when loud, obnoxious teenagers begin shoving her around, she's really weird-she starts telling them to leave her alone. When they won't stop, she screams at them. What can we do with Maggie? Her behavior has us stumped." Suddenly, the story seems quite different, and the dog's behavior far from puzzling. To label a dog like Cream aggressive is as senseless as labeling a woman as a cranky bitch because she slapped the face of a stranger who fondled her. And since these dogs are often roundly punished by their horrified owners (often on the advice of trainers who do not understand dog behavior), the dog finds himself in a terrible situation. Not only is the dog left open to the assault of the rude dog in the first place, but then he is also attacked (punished) by his owner. Little wonder that these dogs can become hyperalert to dogs who exhibit no sense of respecting the personal space of others or dogs who are excited and out of control. Some dogs can begin to set considerably large safety zones around them, compensating for the lack of protection available from the handler. In the absence of clear leadership that offers proactive intervention, these "aggressive" dogs often feel that they have no other option but to act defensively on their own behalf. And for that, they are often harshly punished, banned from classes and deeply misunderstood by the very people who should have been the ones to offer loving, alert protection-the proactive intervention of leadership. Though these same owners would not let a stranger come up and begin kicking or yelling at their dog, they sometimes make no move to protect them from the rudeness of other dogs and the people who allow their dogs to behave rudely. This is not because they are unfeeling or careless. They may be laboring under the assumption that whatever dogs do is "natural" and that they ought not to interfere. They may be convinced, especially after being repeatedly told, that their dog (who may be offering a fully appropriate and normal response) is "aggressive" or "vicious," and feel terribly guilty about their dog's behavior. Even handlers who realize that their dogs have had their personal space infringed on will find little support from other people who have a limited understanding of aggression and who thus interpret anything that seems even mildly threatening in a simplistic, often inaccurate way.

  For dogs who have problems with other dogs getting into their personal space, or dogs who lack confidence about meeting new people and/or other dogs, the simple act of the handler stepping forward is a profound one. What this gesture tells the dog is "I see the threat, and I will protect you." In other words, what the dog sees in our action is an assuran
ce that we are willing to act as a leader should, an assurance that relieves or at least minimizes the dog's need to act in his own self-defense. By its very nature, the simple act of a human stepping forward with intent and confidence can make another dog intent on getting your dog to back off or slow down. And if it does not have that effect, it does at least position you to do something before your dog can be contacted rudely or possibly attacked. Though there are usually other failures in leadership that added to the dog's anxiety that he was unprotected, teaching handlers to make this simple gesture has brought many a worried dog much needed relief and a feeling of security. Trust within a relationship is built on the belief that our behavior will be noticed and responded to, if not necessarily always fully understood. In my experience, dogs whose owners recognize, acknowledge and act on early signs of discomfort have deep trust in their owners' ability to protect them in almost any situation. To my way of thinking, a critical part of the relationships I have with my animals and anyone I love is this promise: "I will protect you." And to the best of my abilities, I do not violate this promise in any way. To keep that promise, I must be vigilant and willing to step into harm's way on their behalf. Not merely when the people and other dogs around me are cooperative and polite. Not when it's convenient or pleasant for me to do so. To be a dog's protector, to champion his rights at all times even when it means stepping up and speaking out on his behalf, this is a true gift of loving leadership. knock it off-Now! Another aspect of proactive intervention involves defusing of potential conflicts. Leadership requires that we remain alert to the Interactions between other family members and, if we deem it necessary, end run a brewing confrontation. My mother had a particularly keen eye for how her four children could

  find ways to irritate each other, and if she saw a brawl taking shape, she would intervene in various ways. At times, she simply redirected us, setting us to tasks that would occupy our attention and, preferably, remove us from each other's company for a while. At other times, lacking any way to distract us, she would resort to clear warnings: "Knock it off. Right now." In the same fashion, our role as our dogs' leader requires us to be alert to possible conflicts, reading the subtle gestures that flash from dog to dog. As pack leader, my dog Vali was remarkably skilled at assessing whether two dogs might be having a grumbly but civil discussion and when a more serious argument was taking shape. From her preferred perch on the couch, I could see her look up and watch the dogs in question. Sometimes, she just sighed and looked away, and at those times, the squabbling dogs would resolve the problem without needing intervention coma sharp bark or unhappy grumble, and it was over. At other times, however, she saw something else, and would get up from the couch and walk directly to the would-be combatants, placing herself directly in between the two dogs. She would stand quietly, turning her head first to one and then the other, and wait until each had gone their separate way. Crisis averted, she'd return to the couch and her nap. As dogs do with other dogs, human leaders of dogs need to learn to read the subtle signs that point to problems that are brewing, and step in proactively. This can be tiring, as it requires a great deal of attention, particularly when the potential for conflict is high: unknown dogs being mixed together for the first time, the excitement of a class or show situation, new additions to an established group, the presence of high-value resources [toys, bones, food, attention), when visitors arrive, etc. In stable groups, the degree of attention required is minimal, with more attention (and intervention if necessary) brought to bear only at the moments where potential conflict arises. By and large, dogs are a peaceful bunch who would much rather party than parry, but prevention is always better than cure. Recognizing the moments where excitement or emotions may run a bit higher or hotter than usual, the wise leader helps maintain peace by setting the tone. Those dealing with multiple-dog households have a bit more on their plate, especially since our very human tendency is to want to place blame on one

  dog or feel sorry for the (perceived) underdog. Since we often do not read the relative status of the two dogs or the situation correctly (usually because we're not seeing it from the canine point of view), it's often best to take the approach that wise human mothers take: Neither party to the conflict is upheld, but both participants are reminded to behave themselves. As my mother often said, "I don't care who started it. Both of you go to your room." Sometimes, I just tell the dogs involved to knock it off, and they will cease their squabbling without any other intervention. At other times, I might need to underline my message by telling both dogs to lie down and stay for a few minutes, a technique that also allows them to calm down. Sometimes, one dog simply won't let it go, or both are unwilling to back down. Or mysteriously, dogs will enter that strange war zone where the conflicts between the combatants are unfathomable to a nonparticipant but recognized by parents the world over by the classic wail arising from the backseat: "Mom-she's looking at me like that again!" What the particular look may be and what response it's exciting in the victim are far beyond any mortal adult's comprehension. But to the two children involved, this is more than just a way to pass time on long car rides-it's a genuine conflict. Dogs have similar conflicts, though they are rarely triggered by boring road trips (during which dogs usually have enough sense to just sleep or stick their heads out the window). Watch for eye contact-even across a very long distance-as a possible trigger for the doggy version of teenagers on a school bus making faces at passing cars. Bored dogs sometimes entertain themselves by playing head games using nothing more than eye contact to get a rise out of other dogs. Dogs who do this have the same unerring instinct as kids who play this game, and they are able to choose their victims with great success. They do not pick on confident, assured dogs or people. Instead, they target the unsure, the immature or the downright frightened, and are thus guaranteed of a fascinating response. Countless owners have found themselves terribly surprised when their dog erupts in a barking or snarling frenzy toward another dog who, as is often said, "didn't do anything but look at him!" The opposite is also true-it is possible to find yourself

  shocked when your dog is the target of another dog's seemingly inexplicable annoyance. As a rule of thumb, unless engaged in a game or posing a challenge, dogs don't maintain eye contact with each other. Appropriate leadership includes watching what our dogs are watching and making sure that rude staring contests are not going on, just as responsible parents would not allow their children to engage in such foolishly rude behavior. It always cracks me up when people visit and watch the interactions between my dogs. They seem to think we're living on the set of a nature documentary and that I've been given a copy of the script. And if things heat up to a mild grumble, the questions fly hot and fast: "Why did they do that? What does that mean? Why is he growling at her?" They're shocked when I sometimes answer that I have no idea what the hell the dogs are saying to each other. Though it's nice to have an understanding of what caused the problem, sometimes we just have to accept "Mom, she's looking at me like that again!" Like the wise parent who then blindfolds the kids or leaves the troublemaker at the next rest stop, we need to just trust the conflict is real though mysterious and deal with the participants appropriately. A mom routine is usually appropriate- I'll escort both dogs to their crates or separate them for a brief time-out. Our dogs rely on our leadership to provide them with protection. Maintaining an awareness of what is happening around and to a loved one is a tremendous gift of our attention. All of us long for a living, breathing guardian angel who watches out for us. This is something dogs have traditionally offered mankind; it seems only fair to reciprocate with loving, protective awareness of our own, at least for the dog at our side. keeping the covenant We may be very uncomfortable with the concepts of power, status and leadership within the context of our relationships with our dogs. And yet, no matter how unwilling we may be to think in such terms, it does not alter the reality that dogs perceive their world in these terms. If we fail to give full weight to the importance of benevolent, reliable
and evenhanded leadership in a dog's life, we will fail our dogs. If we cannot come to grips with our own emotional responses to issues

  of power, our dogs will have to deal with the uncertainty and anxiety that many dogs experience when they lack appropriate leadership. Facing inconsistent or ineffective leadership, dogs will not interpret this as a momentary lapse or as the actions of a stressed human trying to fulfill far too many roles. Dogs will not understand that our inability to sort out our own feelings may be blocking us from acting as they need us to act. What dogs believe when faced with inadequate or shifting leadership is that change is in the wind. Should a leader grow old, incompetent, weak or be disabled in some way, the natural progression of canine society is for the role of leadership to be filled by someone more qualified and willing to take on the job. Someone must be in charge, preferably someone strong and sure and competent, and shifts in the behavior of a group's leader point to the potential need for some other member of the group to step up and take over that position of authority. Our behavior-whether we intend it to be or not-may serve as a marker that the pack's hierarchy is up for review and restructuring: "Seeking qualified leader for small, intimate pack. Benevolent management skills a must." This uncertainty about who is in charge can make dogs quite anxious, as any of us are in the face of uncertain but impending changes. And it can also make dogs behave in interesting (though often disconcerting, puzzling or even frightening) ways as they attempt to redefine their world and how their position in it may be shifting. A shake-up in the structure of the dog's family group is no less disconcerting and upsetting to a dog than an equivalent change is for us within our human families and groups. Following the death of our longtime pack leader, our dogs had to recast the pack order among themselves. Though the steadiness of what John and I were able to provide in terms of leadership helped ease their stress, the old dog's death left a hole in more than just our hearts-she left a gap that required the dogs to reestablish their status relative to each other. We need not be heavy-handed dictators or anxious bureaucrats who feel the need to enforce every subsection of every rule and regulation. We do need to ask our dogs if perhaps they need more from us, or if they need us to offer guidance with a lighter hand or with a crisper style.