Better than TV

January 30, 2014

We rest in the evenings and let the puppies play. This is way more interesting than any reality TV shows.

When we enter our hotel room after dinner and unclip leashes, Harper circles the two queen beds, sniffing corner to corner. He fixates on one bed, pushes his head under as far as he can with his rear end wiggling above. He races from one side to the other, stretching with his front paws, scratching against the tightly woven plaid-like carpet of burgundy, green and pale yellow. (Why are hotel carpets so unnattractive?)

"There mus be a ball or something under there," I say to Tammy. Neither of us is anxious to take a look.

Copo is busy sniffing, too, and when he starts circling I snatch him into my arms.

"Time to head outside, little one," I say.

Tammy and I have discussed the pros and cons of raising a "winter" puppy. While it is true that taking a puppy out to park in the cold helps quicken the process, it is also true that bundling up while holding a squirmy puppy before heading out can be a challenge. Having a friend hold the puppy while you tie your boots is a real advantage.

FLD Copo crosses his front paws in Tammy's arms while I bundle up to take him outside.

Our room was on the second floor. When a puppy this young has to park, you carry him out. He can practice stairs with an empty bladder.

I set Copo down in the snow far enough from the door to be polite. Another advantage to parking a puppy during a snowy winter is that he will pee anywhere. A burst of wind throws a football sized clump of snow down from the eave; it lands with a muffled poof! and covers him with snow-tsunami. Copo, not fazed at all, finishes his business.

Copo takes the lead back to the entry door on a nice loose leash. He scratches at the glass. "Hold your horses," I say, struggling with the electronic key. Finally, we're in. I stomp my boots. Even this doesn't bother the confident pup.

We approach the stairs and I let Copo decide what to do. He hops up one step. Then another. He sniffs a little, but hops all the way up to the landing. At the second flight he pauses, then makes his way to the top.

Back in the room, Tammy holds up a torn and well-chewed tennis ball. "Harper finally got this out from under the bed," she says. Who knows how long it had been under there. She drops the ball into the garbage can, which we had proactively put on the top of the television stand when we first arrived.

With the temptation of the ball gone, Harper enjoys an elk antler chew. Copo wants in on the action.

I don't count how many times Copo and I repeat the parking process, but on the last time out for the night (hopefully), Tammy and Harper join us. The routine is the same - I carry Copo out, he walks back up the stairs. This time, however, he pauses on the top step, sits down and rests his chin on the landing. He sighs, as if to say, "Oh, that was so hard and I am so tired!"

After a moment's rest, the little trooper muscles up the rest of the stairs.

Back in the room,  I sit on the floor with Copo snuggled between my legs. I massage his ears. "You hypnotized him," Tammy says as he melts across my thigh. I place him gently into his crate.

It is a good thing that Tammy sets the alarm because the puppy lets us sleep all night.

A hypnotized Copo.

Honey works

After training

January 30, 2014

"I'm allergic," the woman explained, looking down over her shoulder at FLDs Kayla and Harper.

Kim and Judy and Tammy and I were being seated for dinner at the puppy-friendly Applebee's in the Soo after our training session at the Chippewa Correctional Facility. The woman wanted the puppies to be positioned on the opposite side of our table, furthest from where she had her back to us.

Unfortunately we had three pups, so at least one would still be behind her. She had not seen a sleepy little FLD Copo cradled in my arms. The busy restaurant was packed. The four of us looked at each other; we did not feel like getting into an educational scene about the importance of allowing access to puppies-in-training.

"Can you seat us somewhere else?" we asked the hostess.

The table in the far corner where we ended up was a squeeze, but being away from the action was actually a better choice for our tired puppies. I placed my coat on the floor between my chair and the wall. FLD Copo snuggled in for the duration. Harper and Kayla settled nicely in a heap under the table. We four gals shared stories, ate and laughed together.

As we finished, the allergic woman approached our table. "I just want to thank you for moving," she said. "Your dogs are soooo good!" she added as an afterthought, when none of the puppies stirred.

I remember the old days when smoking was prolific in public places, including restaurants. I have asthma, and allergies too, and although I often would have liked to ask someone to move away from me, I was timid, expecting to be ignored. Or worse.

This woman politely asked us to consider her condition and we acquiesced with no real consequence to us. Her subsequent gratitude and recognition of our well-behaved puppies was a pleasant surprise.

Who could resist this face? FLD Copo gazes at the camera in our hotel room. Behind him is FLD Harper and Tammy.

What he said about FLD Harper

Chippewa

January 30, 2014

FLD Harper sits patiently while an inmate raiser positions a graduation cap on his head. They are posing for their S.T.A.R. Puppy certificate. The inmate says, "I dressed him up all the time." Harper has spent more than one overnight at the Chippewa Correctional Facility under his care.

And I set my camera down

Chippewa

January 30, 2014

Our training plan - Tammy would take the older puppies and their handlers into the other classroom for AKC CGC (Canine Good Citizen) testing. I would run a "puppy" class with the growing group of younger pups.

Fortunately, Tammy suggested this prior to our visit so I had time to consult with Laura Fisher, Puppy Development Coordinator at Leader Dogs for the Blind. Laura teaches the under-four-months group at the bi-monthly training sessions held on the Leader Dog campus. The weekend classes, offered to all puppy raisers, are divided into three age groups, the under-four-months, four-to-nine-months (taught by Deb Donnelly), and over-nine-months (taught by Tammy). Other puppy counselors and volunteers assist as needed.

Laura was kind enough to send me a long list of information that she covers in two days: expectations, name recognition, sit, reward markers, touch, around, loose leash walking, leave it, relaxation protocol and down. I would only have an hour or two.

I set my camera down. My mouth was dry as I stood in the middle of the room gripping my list, all eyes on me. I am not used to taking the lead.

Off to my right, an excited FLD Kayla was not at all interested in what I was about to say. She jumped up on Kim's legs. The inmate who was handling Kayla said, "Off!" The pup dropped to four-on-the-floor. The inmate "clicked" and gave Kayla a treat.

I folded up my list and put it into my pocket. The topic for my puppy class had just defaulted to "reward markers."

A "marker," as defined on the Karen Pryor Clicker Training website, is "a signal used to mark desired behavior at the instant it occurs." The marker can be a "click" or a word such as "YES" and it acts as a bridge between the precise behavior and delivery of the subsequent reward.

These motivated Chippewa inmates have educated themselves with books on positive dog training, many of which they purchased with their own money. Deb and Tammy and I have been impressed with the work they've done with their puppies. Even though I sometimes feel only a step ahead of the group (the more I learn, the more I realize I don't know), I thought I still might be able to help them bring their knowledge up a notch. I would raise the criteria for them, much as we do with our puppies when they learn a new behavior.

What ensued was a lively discussion about how the (mis) timing of a marker might inadvertently reinforce the behavior we don't want instead of the behavior we want, about waiting for the reward-able moment when the puppy makes the right decision on its own and marking that, about how the behavior "sticks" when the puppy is rewarded for choosing the correct behavior instead of responding to a command, about how proper placement of the reward can set the stage for learning.

A thinking puppy, accustomed to making decisions - this is the kind of puppy that Leader Dogs for the Blind wants us to raise.

Kim proved to be a good foil. "She's been doing that a lot lately," she said about Kayla's jumping up behavior. Kim admitted that she has done the same thing, telling Kayla "off" and rewarding her for putting four feet back onto the floor.

"How's that working for you?" I asked. "Not so good," Kim replied.

It was time to try something different. I suggested ignoring the jumping behavior, to wait until Kayla put her four feet on the floor on her own. "Mark and reward that moment," I said. "And try placing the treat on the floor instead of handing it to the puppy. The behavior you reward will be the behavior that will be repeated. Trust that."

The active interaction with the group helped me gain confidence. I hope the raisers gained something as well.