We know that safety (being protected from harm) and security (FEELING protected from harm) are both categories of enrichment. As someone who lives with a dog who is a bite risk, I can tell you that these elements are also important for the humans in the household. My household consists of myself, my husband, who shall be referred to only as Big Man (he really is a big man, it’s not very original), Petey the Wondermutt…and a couple of snakes. I won’t get into Pete’s various behavioral diagnoses. Suffice it to say they are the kind that should be taken seriously, and that we work with a team of professionals to ensure we are addressing his physical, mental, and emotional health. Management in the form of crates, gates, window coverings, and sound masking are part of our daily life.
So what does a complicated dude living in a “gated community,” where his choices are limited, do for funsies? After all, agency is a major factor in any individual’s overall well-being. To the uninitiated, agency is the ability to have some level of control in our environment and be able to make choices that will result in a desirable outcome. Opportunities for agency may look different for a dog who does not struggle with the human world the same way Petey does, but here are some of the ways we work it into my scruffy bestie’s life.
He has many cozy nooks.
There is a place in New Zealand called Cosy Nook (that’s the correct spelling). Shout out to that place, and shout out to the many choices Petey has for resting.
His “office” (where he sleeps or hangs out when there are people around) has different surfaces and textures on which to rest, as well as a box fan for airflow and sound masking. We’ve worked a lot on stationing, and this training comes in handy, as he also tends to lie on a mat, rug, or bear-shaped child-sized sleeping bag (What? You don’t have one for your dog?) to work on long-term calming projects like chews or food-stuffed toys in his office.
Expanding the office into two of the upstairs bedrooms makes Pete’s “executive suite.” More resting spots, including the guest bed covered in layers of blankies for creating the perfect nest. When the weather is nice, he’s also got a window to sniff out of and watch the world go by (provided nothing outside is bothering him).
Sometimes he has access to the whole house, depending on who is home and what is going on. He has a number of cozy nooks downstairs, along with a gated area in the living room and a crate. We are additionally working on his skills around retreating to safe spaces (room, crate, etc.) if he feels uncomfortable.
He can ask for things.
Behaviors that allow a learner to ask for things are sometimes called “manding” behaviors, and Petey has a bunch of them. We reinforce the ask by giving him the thing he’s asking for. Who’s training who, amirite? I love the (two-way!) conversations Big Man or I get to have with Petey when he’s asking for something, and how this helps us provide him with some (adorable) agency. Here are a few examples:
- He can ask for a snack, including a sample of our food, by hanging out on a nearby station, usually a rug, mat or bed. If we’re walking and he shows up beside me and looks at me with his perfect eyeballs, he gets a snack. He can also ask for a snack simply by existing, let’s be honest.
- He can ask for a Benebone or foraging toy by standing by the bin where they are kept and making a kind of whining/growling sound that I can only describe as sounding like “hmmmm?”
- He can ask for assistance in moving an object. This generally involves getting our attention and staring at or pawing the object, occasionally with bonus vocalizations. Sometimes it’s the TV stand or couch because there’s a rogue treat underneath, sometimes it’s a log or a planter with a bug or a mouse under it.
- He can ask to go outside or come inside by standing and/or barking by the back door.
- He can ask to stay outside, and this usually looks like some appeasement-type behaviors like squinty eyes and a low wagging tail (aw, bud), or just staying put when we ask him if he wants to come in. If someone is home, the weather is nice, and there aren’t things happening in the neighborhood that would make him nervous, he loves to sit outside and sniff the air and sun his buns.
- He can ask to be let out from behind a gate in the house. This is often a grumbly affair, and we are familiar with his various vocalizations, so a GET OFF MY LAWN bark isn’t going to take down the gate, but a grumbly, snuffly, butt shaking toy grab will, when it is appropriate for him to be a free-range Pete.
There are reasons Petey does not have access to all of his toys all the time, but his stuffed toy bin is always accessible, and he frequently grabs one to meet Big Man or I at the back door, or brings one over to ask to play. I’m sure there are other examples of how Petey asks for things, but these are the most frequent. He recently asked for his Treat ‘n Train to please give him a snack by staring at it and grumbling and it was adorable and hilarious and I helped him out.
He can opt out of grooming activities.
Petey is sensitive to touch and spatial pressure, and Big Man towers over him in a way that I do not, so I am the preferred human when it comes to bathing, brushing, nails, teeth, ears, or anything that requires examination. Also, I’m the preferred human in general. What can I say? I’m a catch.
Over the years we have developed a few different ways to work on nails. Currently, in the warm months, we play with the hose, and between hosings I stand over him like he’s a small goat and I’m a farrier. I cue “feet,” tap the leg of the foot I’m going to handle, and he stands still while I clip or file each nail. We play with the hose, and move on to the next foot. If he pulls his foot out of my hand or he walks away, I stop. When it’s not warm, we do the same thing without the hose and do a food scatter in between farriering.
For brushing, I station him on the picnic table. “Brusha brusha” is the cue, because we are nothing if not ridiculous. Jumping down from the table is an easy nope and we stop, though I think the comb must feel good to my itchy boy, because he rarely opts out of a brusha brusha.
We are currently working on our tooth brushing. Right now, if he enters the bathroom while I’m there and I can cue a chin rest, I’ll grab the tooth gel and silicone brush that goes on my finger. If he stays, I’ll put the paste on the brush, cue “teef,” and lift his scruffy face flaps to inspect his teeth. If he stays, I move the brush toward his face. If he remains in a chin rest, I brush. If he pulls his face away, it’s a no. If he stays in the bathroom after a no brush, I’ll ask for the chin rest again and have another try. If he walks out of the bathroom, I stop trying
Bathing is a bit different. Here my main concern is that he puts himself in the tub. I consider this more of a care with consent activity vs. fully cooperative. With his sensitive skin, he’s an every other week bather year round, sometimes more if he’s been sloshing around in a stinky, muddy wetland. So every part of the ritual is well established. Sometimes he requires a quick retreat to his crate while he ponders the value of whatever snack I just got out and put on the edge of the tub. I wait for him to come upstairs and climb up to the edge of the tub to eat the cheese or whatever prize I placed there for him, and then down into the tub. He’s never jumped out of the tub to nope out of a bath, so I don’t know for sure that he knows he has the option to do so, but he definitely knows how to get out when it’s time to towel him off. For a dude who is sensitive to being touched, he loves to press and rub his face into the towel in my hands. Our bath ritual ends with a nice rubdown with a towel and/or roll around on a towel with an assist from the hair dryer, and a long-lasting chew or project in his office after bathtime.
I also have a cue for him when I need to do something that is more invasive and not well-rehearsed, like the inevitable once a year bee sting I need to get a look at (curse you, spicy sky raisins!). I cue “I’m sorry.” He may not have a choice, but he always has warning and a follow-up snack.
He can give or revoke consent to being touched.
Before I knew what a consent check was, Petey taught us how to do them. When there isn’t much time between a growl and a snap, you learn to check in and make sure the way you’re touching your dog is okay. Most of the time he asks for more petting by tapping his little hand or his chin against whatever surface is nearby. No tappies, or a growl, or a getting up and moving away are all ways to say no touchy.
Petey feels a lot of feels all at once. This is the best way I can describe what conflict looks and feels like as an observer/interacter. Sometimes he nudges your hand as if to ask to be petted, and then lets you know that’s very much not what he wants (growl, lunge, snap). We have become keen observers of his body language. His eyes, particularly his pupils, are a great way to get a read on his arousal level. If you get a really forceful nudge to the hand, but his eyes are round and pupils large with well-defined edges, we either keep the petting very short and sweet with lots of check ins, or just ask Petey to settle near us so we can be close enough for some co-regulation but not actively touching him. Soft eyes and pupils, loose body, and lots of nudges for pets is when you get to scratch that scruffy man around his head and neck, or his soft chest curls, or his speckly belly, or gently pull his velvety ears between your fingers.
He has opportunities to move (as) freely (as possible).
Big Man and I take the responsibility of caring for a dog like Petey very seriously. Since his triggers include humans and dogs, we opt for quiet spaces for walks, most often on a long line. We are lucky to have a beautiful local cemetery that is (LEASHED…are you reading this, people who can’t follow rules in the cemetery??) dog-friendly, access to nature preserves, and a local Sniffspot with significant acreage. Fort Wayne is also home to Fido’s Forest, a fully fenced, wooded dog park where Petey gets some off-leash time and can engage in his favorite full-body workout: digging!!
Long sniffy walks, be they among the glorious trees and architecture of the cemetery, through the tall vegetation of the restored prairies and wetlands of a nature preserve, or beneath the canopy of remnant forest between the agricultural fields of Northeast Indiana, are Petey’s biggest opportunity to get out and about. As much as possible, he can choose the route, what to sniff, where to mark, and where appropriate, where to track a small mammal or dig.
We are a team!
Living with other sentient beings, human or non, requires communication. We’re in it together, we learn from each other, and we are forever tweaking the training plan that is life. Even if you don’t live with a scruffy buddy who has well-established grumble and growl zones and a lot of extra rules for coexistence, learning your pet’s likes and dislikes, and finding opportunities for two-way communication are excellent opportunities to build trust and provide them with agency.
When we brought Petey home from the shelter in November of 2018, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. The lessons we learned have completely changed our lives (and my career!). This isn’t always easy, but I can assure you that loving Petey sure is.
Now What?
- Think about the kind of conversations you have with your pets. Do they have a way to ask you for things?
- Think of some examples of two-way communication between yourself and your animal besties. We’d love to see you share them and tag us (@petharmonytraining), if you’re into that kind of thing!
- If you need help with a conversation you’d rather not be having with a grumbly growly family member, we are here to help!
Happy Training!
Tiffany