Today we went hiking again back at the trail we used last weekend. It's a gorgeous strip of woodland that's less than 15 minutes from my house. Winter is about the only time it's really hike-able though, because it floods through most of spring and early summer, then the ticks are horrendous for most of the other weather. So I tend to forget it's even there.
What's nice is the trail isn't heavily used by a lot of people, so outside of the woodland critters and yummy scents...there's not
too many distractions. It makes it a nice place to drop the leash and get some off leash work done. Most importantly, to get some recall practice in where she can really stretch out and drive home to me.
Still...dropping that leash is unnerving to me and I have a few rules I follow when we're out there. One, and probably the most important, is that I want her engaged with me. Ready and raring to work when I drop that leash. She'd been pushing her way into heel/her reinforcement zone most of the trip out there so I didn't think to test it further. I dropped the leash and we started working recalls and just keeping me on sight while running loose.
I can't really say I had an issue on any of that...Macy did spectacular. She dropped what she was doing every time to barrel back to me, any time I got more than fifty feet out from her she raced back on her own and drove straight into her reinforcement zone. The catch came when I called her back to do some 'work'.
I've placed a lot of work into her tugging and building up a love for the game...but yes, to me that's still 'work.' I want it to be a reward and 90% of the time, tugging on her leash is a huge reward. We use it for heeling past other dogs and countless distractions, we use at dock diving events to reward a good wait on the dock, or a good jump. Today, after getting to run loose for about ten minutes, she was having none of it.
A huge, Don't Wanna, Don't Hafta moment (a
Susan Garrett term). So we started hiking back towards the car, her on leash close enough to me that she couldn't wander too much. I didn't want her rewarding herself anymore than she already was. Harsh maybe, but she'd showed me where the value lay--in the environment. That was already self-reinforcing, just being out there getting her freedom, getting to sniff and romp. I needed to refocus some of that value back onto me, and then using the environment as a reward once I got the behavior I wanted.
So we'd stop and try and tug, but nope. She couldn't do it there. Not yet. Her body language was very much the same as when I started working so she could tug happily and gamely in the presence of food. Or in the presence of higher value tug toys, but ones I didn't want to play with. My ultimate goal is to create a drive to play with me, no matter what toy I have, no matter where we're at.
So we kept moving closer and closer to the car, stopping in boring spots on the trail (parts where she normally ignores the environment and starts pestering me to heel or do trick work for treats). Still no tug. We made it all the way back to the car and I had her hop into the Jeep and tried to play with her still in there. Nope. Not even with me shut in the car with her. I will admit, right about then I was starting to wonder if I should be trying another tactic. Maybe what worked with tugging around food and higher value toys, wouldn't work for walking trails. Still, we were at the car, it was time to pack it up, go home and reevaluate.
On the way home though I made a decision. I
know she'll tug at home and around our neighborhood. At the very worst, she'd latch on if we had to back our butts all the way up the drive way and into the backyard. But eventually I could make a huge fuss over tugging with me and then reward with a walk around the neighborhood. Using tug to reward good walking, walking to reward good tugging (which normally jazzes her up really well and she's a working queen).
Sure enough, the moment I popped open the back of the Jeep and all four feet hit the ground, I offered her the leash and told her to, "Get it!" She launched right at it into a happy game of tug. So we started working up and down the sidewalk. Can you tug with that dog barking and running up down his fence across the street? Good! What about by that squirrel? Yay!
We were just getting ready to wrap it up and head back down the street for home when I spotted one of our neighbors out salting the sidewalk in front of his house. Perfect! A distraction that we could build towards getting closer and closer (I suppose we could have done it with the neighbor's dog, but I hate to stress the poor guy out). For a moment she spotted him and had another Don't Wanna, Don't Hafta moment, so we backed up a few feet heading away, I offered the tug again and WHAM! Game on.
After that, it was a no brainer. We worked up to within twenty feet of him (would have worked closer, but the ice was slick, and well...tugging on ice with a dog her size does horrors for my back). She flipped perfectly into doing obedience work, hand touches, to tugging--once again completely tuning out the distractions. And every time I released her to head his way, one call for me to come back to resume the game and she was there, raring to play.
That's what I wanted out on the trail. And it seems so simple to a lot of people. Why did I care so much if she didn't want to tug out there? But tug is our biggest reinforcement. She'll take a treat anywhere yes, but that's over and done with fast. And I hadn't realized it, until she'd refused that tug, but once that leash had been dropped...she was doing a lot of hit and runs. Yes, she was still coming back...for now.
Tugging means she has to completely engage with me. She can't take that toy or leash while still looking at a squirrel. I want good solid, loving this game tugs when we play. Which means...when she's engaged and we're really revving up that game, tug is a
huge motivator. It drives her back at a lightning fast recall rather than a trot. And therein lies where I'm going to get the most consistent behavior. I could have accepted her hit and runs for her treats, but obviously the value she was finding in the environment was some pretty heady stuff and we were in low distractions. Thank heavens a squirrel didn't dart across her path right then! I don't want to accept hit and runs. I want her to come raring back to me with as much love for the game as she loves her free-runs. I want her to want to engage with me
more than she wants to engage with the world around her.
Don't get me wrong, I still want her to have her freedom. But freedom comes with training, confidence, trust. Letting her run loose but not being able to call her back is dangerous for her. So we're going to really amp up her tug games around the house, building in some pretty heavy distractions this week. Then if the weather stays good, we'll do another long hike this weekend, but with some ground rules. Can she tug before we get in the car? At the parking lot when we get there? Along the trail?* Once I've got that 'want to play with me' back, then we'll start adding back in her off-leash time again, most likely doing a walk or two with a long line as well. :)
*I also plan on bringing along a higher value tug-toy. Maybe her bunny fur even. While I'd like to have her willing to charge back for tug play on her leash, because that's a reinforcer I'm guaranteed to have, right now I'll take what I can get and will build her back up. She wasn't being "stubborn" or "dominant", she was just showing me where the weaknesses in our training lied.
To this:
