Have you ever spent time with a dog that's been in a shelter for a while?
So long that maybe he doesn't know his name anymore, doesn't want to touch his food, doesn't look you in the eye?
I have.
I used to work in a shelter. A no-kill shelter, which meant that we often had animals that were nearing permanent residency.
When I first walked into the shelter I remember recognizing the body posture of an animal who had given up. The slow breathing, head hung low, dry nosed resolve to never leave. To never trust again. The loss of hope.
This doesn't happen to every animal in a shelter situation by far, but when it does it is utterly gut-wrenching.
Dogs by nature are so unconditionally loving, so forgiving, so resilient that when they give up it is only because they have been pushed to their limit.
I could instantly relate to these dogs, and cats, that I worked with. It would take patient persistence to bring them back to the possibility of trusting a human again. I had had my fair share of experiences that lent to not trusting humans and that gave me a radar that some people just don't have. The compassion and commitment that it takes to woo one of these sweet creatures back to the place of trusting taught me volumes about the love of Jesus toward his wounded children.
He really does use everything...
Once you get past the barriers to trust there is a long road to being able to obedience train these animals.
Trust is fragile, yet it is essential to obedience training.
I had a rescued terrier once that I took months to trust train. Everywhere I went he went with me. I actually had his leash looped through my belt loop... he wasn't thrilled to say the least. He had been the dog that would act like he didn't understand English, only to find out months later that he knew tons of commands. He was also the dog that would leave me "presents" that he made his-very-own-self in precise intervals the entire length of my closet floor when I had upset him by telling him no.
But I knew that he was also the dog who had been raised since he was a pup by a service man and his wife only to be dumped when the husband was overseas and the wife decided to leave. He then had been shuffled from family to family in hopes that someone would have time for him and found himself in a laundry room for 12 hours each day with a temporary family who really did have the best intentions but realized they didn't have the time to care for him properly.
That's where I came in.
Boy howdy did that dog know how to ignore with precision.
The first moment I took his leash and spoke to him he didn't even turn his head my way... I spoke his name again and he responded by promptly walking over to the nearest stationary item and marking it with his signature scent.
So long that maybe he doesn't know his name anymore, doesn't want to touch his food, doesn't look you in the eye?
I have.
I used to work in a shelter. A no-kill shelter, which meant that we often had animals that were nearing permanent residency.
When I first walked into the shelter I remember recognizing the body posture of an animal who had given up. The slow breathing, head hung low, dry nosed resolve to never leave. To never trust again. The loss of hope.
This doesn't happen to every animal in a shelter situation by far, but when it does it is utterly gut-wrenching.
Dogs by nature are so unconditionally loving, so forgiving, so resilient that when they give up it is only because they have been pushed to their limit.
I could instantly relate to these dogs, and cats, that I worked with. It would take patient persistence to bring them back to the possibility of trusting a human again. I had had my fair share of experiences that lent to not trusting humans and that gave me a radar that some people just don't have. The compassion and commitment that it takes to woo one of these sweet creatures back to the place of trusting taught me volumes about the love of Jesus toward his wounded children.
He really does use everything...
Once you get past the barriers to trust there is a long road to being able to obedience train these animals.
Trust is fragile, yet it is essential to obedience training.
I had a rescued terrier once that I took months to trust train. Everywhere I went he went with me. I actually had his leash looped through my belt loop... he wasn't thrilled to say the least. He had been the dog that would act like he didn't understand English, only to find out months later that he knew tons of commands. He was also the dog that would leave me "presents" that he made his-very-own-self in precise intervals the entire length of my closet floor when I had upset him by telling him no.
But I knew that he was also the dog who had been raised since he was a pup by a service man and his wife only to be dumped when the husband was overseas and the wife decided to leave. He then had been shuffled from family to family in hopes that someone would have time for him and found himself in a laundry room for 12 hours each day with a temporary family who really did have the best intentions but realized they didn't have the time to care for him properly.
That's where I came in.
Boy howdy did that dog know how to ignore with precision.
The first moment I took his leash and spoke to him he didn't even turn his head my way... I spoke his name again and he responded by promptly walking over to the nearest stationary item and marking it with his signature scent.
Oh me.
I knew I was in for a challenge, but I also had had the sense that this challenge had my name on it from the first moment I saw the information about this dog. So, I put him in the kennel that came with him and headed back to my house.
I had done trust training in shelter settings in the past, but never to the extent that this dog required and never in my own home. Strapped to my side; he got up when I got up, he laid down when I laid down. He even went in the restroom with me and stood by my side while I cooked dinner or folded laundry.
It was an all day, every day experience that lasted months.
Then one evening as we were all sitting around reading by candle light he did something that shocked me.
He jumped up on the couch and one by one he went to each family member, stood on our laps, and licked one of our cheeks while slowly wagging his tail.
Trust.
It had come.
He finally knew that we were not going to just arbitrarily dump him or lock him away in some room for all his active hours every day. He knew he was safe.
The hardest command I ever taught him was Stay.
Terriers by nature are easily distracted. They love to chase small animals and thirst for the hunt once they catch a scent or sight in on one. Squirrels were not helpful in my endeavors, or birds, or butterflies, or snarky fence-balancing cats.
But he got it.
Lots of treats, and much praise was a big encouragement. That and an extra long leash...
The side-by-side tethering was one tool that worked wonders for this dog that had lost his faith in humanity. Another is the Gentle Leader. It looks a bit like a muzzle but isn't really a muzzle at all. We have a rescued dog currently that was taken from his mother much too young and wasallowed to be mishandled by very young children. These cicrumstances led him to become very nervous on a near constant basis and to have fearful aggression tendencies on certain rare occasions.
The Gentle Leader reminds him that we are RIGHT THERE. The gentle pressure on his muzzle mimics the pressure from a mother to a pup and lessens his anxiety considerably. It is a wonderful tool of help for him, and an essential one for us to be able to integrate him into situations that would normally be overwhelming to him.
The lessons I have learned from working at the shelter and from owning my own pets are innumerable. They serve as a mirror to show me the Lord's training in my own life.
He is patient.
He doesn't take me anywhere that He Himself isn't willing to go.
He is liberal with treats.
He understands why trust is hard sometimes.
And it is possible to learn to stay...
~ In Honor of Tobias Longbottom, Louie the Meatball, and all the other furry blessings that have graced our lives.
I had done trust training in shelter settings in the past, but never to the extent that this dog required and never in my own home. Strapped to my side; he got up when I got up, he laid down when I laid down. He even went in the restroom with me and stood by my side while I cooked dinner or folded laundry.
It was an all day, every day experience that lasted months.
Then one evening as we were all sitting around reading by candle light he did something that shocked me.
He jumped up on the couch and one by one he went to each family member, stood on our laps, and licked one of our cheeks while slowly wagging his tail.
Trust.
It had come.
He finally knew that we were not going to just arbitrarily dump him or lock him away in some room for all his active hours every day. He knew he was safe.
The hardest command I ever taught him was Stay.
Terriers by nature are easily distracted. They love to chase small animals and thirst for the hunt once they catch a scent or sight in on one. Squirrels were not helpful in my endeavors, or birds, or butterflies, or snarky fence-balancing cats.
But he got it.
Lots of treats, and much praise was a big encouragement. That and an extra long leash...
The side-by-side tethering was one tool that worked wonders for this dog that had lost his faith in humanity. Another is the Gentle Leader. It looks a bit like a muzzle but isn't really a muzzle at all. We have a rescued dog currently that was taken from his mother much too young and wasallowed to be mishandled by very young children. These cicrumstances led him to become very nervous on a near constant basis and to have fearful aggression tendencies on certain rare occasions.
The Gentle Leader reminds him that we are RIGHT THERE. The gentle pressure on his muzzle mimics the pressure from a mother to a pup and lessens his anxiety considerably. It is a wonderful tool of help for him, and an essential one for us to be able to integrate him into situations that would normally be overwhelming to him.
The lessons I have learned from working at the shelter and from owning my own pets are innumerable. They serve as a mirror to show me the Lord's training in my own life.
He is patient.
He doesn't take me anywhere that He Himself isn't willing to go.
He is liberal with treats.
He understands why trust is hard sometimes.
And it is possible to learn to stay...
~ In Honor of Tobias Longbottom, Louie the Meatball, and all the other furry blessings that have graced our lives.
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