I got an email this morning from a rescue in the Seattle area, asking if I could provide temporary placement for a pit bull while they searched for an appropriate home for him. The dog had to be placed today; normally I don't respond to last minute requests, because I don't like being manipulated into making a decision on short notice based on limited information, but with this one, I didn't feel like that was an issue, and I could see how the rescue group didn't have very many options. Here's what happened:
Some weeks ago this rescue took in an adult male pit bull; they didn't know his history, except that he had scars from fighting. They tested him with cats and determined that he should not have access to them, and assumed that he would not be safe around smaller dogs, either. Like a lot of smaller rescues, they rely on foster care and boarding facilities to house their animals, so the dog went to a boarding kennel where he escaped from a dilapidated pen and did over $3,000 worth of damage to an unfortunate dachshund. The kennel owner demanded that he be removed immediately, and was adamant that the dog be put down. Luckily for him, the rescue had a different philosophy.
The dog got along well with certain, other dogs, like female pit bulls, but some dogs would set him off and he'd attack them. The rescue consulted with a trainer, whose response to his reactivity to other dogs was to lift him off the ground by his leash, throw him on the ground, and step on his neck. From there, he went to stay with another trainer, who claimed to specialize in "aggressive dogs". The dog was there for three weeks, during which time he was kept in a crate, in a shed, with five other dogs. The rescue received regular reports that he was doing well and making progress, but yesterday he tried to fight with another dog, the "trainer" jerked back on his leash, and he turned on her instead. She wasn't hurt, but she immediately returned him to his crate and demanded that the rescue group take him back right away and kill him. It's OK, you're allowed to think it, and you can bet I was thinking the same thing -- what a stupid bitch.
So the rescue, with no suitable foster homes left at its disposal, asked me to hold onto the dog for a few days while they searched for more options, and I agreed, because it's a short term thing, and because I hold a special love for dogs who are subjected to abuse at the hands of so-called experts, behaviorists, and trainers. Truthfully, the only trainers I've ever met that weren't complete ass hats were the ones at Best Friends, and they made it clear that they used the word 'training' very loosely -- that their primary focus was behavior management, something which came as quite a relief to me. After spending so much time trying to heal the wounded dogs left in the wake of hacks and charlatans claiming to be professional dog trainers, I was beginning to think I was the only person in the country who was trying to manage troubling canine behaviors instead of doing magic tricks to make them disappear.
Of course, for political reasons, particularly with regard to their having a TV show on the National Geographic Channel, Best Friends' trainers have to be careful where they point the finger, and even in private, off the record, just between us, none of them was willing to say much about their Nat. Geo. colleague, Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer. Fortunately, I'm not subject to such limitations.
There has been a distinct increase in positive punishment techniques in recent years, despite the predominant view among psychologists and behaviorists (real ones) that positive punishment is outmoded, counterproductive, and dangerous. In case you're not familiar with operant conditioning, or you've forgotten your Psych 101, here's a quick overview:
Punishment: an effort to discourage the repetition of a behavior
Reinforcement: an effort to encourage the repetition of a behavior
Positive punishment: the introduction of an unfavorable stimulus for the purpose of discouraging the repetition of a behavior; for example, choking a dog when he tugs on his leash
Negative punishment: the removal of a favorable stimulus for the purpose of discouraging the repetition of a behavior; for example, taking a dog's toy away when he tries to guard it
Positive reinforcement: the introduction of a favorable stimulus for the purpose of encouraging the repetition of a behavior; for example, giving a treat when the dog sits
Negative reinforcement: the removal of an unfavorable stimulus for the purpose of encouraging the repetition of a behavior; for example, removing an uncomfortable collar when the dog is quiet
Negative reinforcement is the most frequently misused term from the four; often, when people use the term negative reinforcement, they are actually describing positive reinforcement. The important distinction to make is that the words 'positive' and 'negative' don't refer to any value judgment of the behavior you're tying to perpetuate or eliminate, but to the introduction or removal of a stimulus. You can use positive reinforcement to perpetuate behaviors you don't like -- it just means you're giving something, rather than taking something away.
Positive reinforcement is by far the safest, most effective model for perpetuating favorable behaviors in a dog (or any other animal, child, etc.); 'ignore the bad, reward the good' is the mantra every dog caregiver should adopt. Negative reinforcement and negative punishment have their place, particularly the latter, but their effective use tends to be a bit less obvious.
Getting back to positive punishment, this dangerous model for behavior modification happens to be the the one most heavily utilized and promoted by Cesar Millan on his TV show, because intimidation and physical pain produce immediate results, if not lasting ones. Also in his bag of tricks, flooding -- a technique based on classical conditioning in which a subject is bombarded with the stimulus that triggers his fear response, in order to wipe out the negative associations he has with that stimulus. Flooding sometimes works, and sometimes it causes massive trauma and does permanent, psychological damage. Think 'throwing the kid who's afraid of water into the pool' -- sure, she might come to see that there's nothing to be afraid of, or she might drown, or nearly drown and become even more afraid of water. Preferable to flooding is a technique called systematic desensitization, which essentially means exposing the subject to the stimulus a little at a time; it takes longer, but it's safer and more reliable. Unfortunately, the more sound techniques don't always make good TV, and TV's where we get all of our information these days, because reading is for elitists and research is for nerds.
On the surface, it may appear that the Dog Whisperer and I have similar philosophies, but the truth is that I run a nonprofit rescue and he runs a for-profit business; I provide dogs with safety and a fulfilling life in spite of their behavior and he tries to change their behavior for the benefit and convenience of his clients. We do not do the same thing, or even pursue the same results. But the fact that we're not actually in the same business doesn't mean I don't have strong opinions about what he does, especially in terms of his impact on the treatment of animals; I make it no secret that I think Cesar Millan is a hack. I think his techniques are dangerous, his results are temporal, and if he pulled any of his shit with some of my dogs, I'd probably be scraping pieces of him off my walls for days, not that I'd ever let someone like that near my animals. But that said, what the Dog Whisperer does to make good TV is of little consequence compared to what I'm calling here 'the whisperer effect' -- the tremendous damage that's done when fans of Cesar Millan's TV show decide to take up his methods and go into business for themselves. It's the blind leading the blind, via satellite.
When people start calling themselves experts on canine aggression, I have to chuckle a little, because what others call aggression, I call normal dog behavior. I'm still looking for that vicious dog -- that truly aggressive monster that's not worth saving. It's my white whale. Maybe I'll find it some day, and as I lie bleeding to death on the kennel floor, my last words will be 'kill... that... damned... thing...' But it's not likely, because the truth is that I don't believe in animal aggression. I think it's a fake thing that people have invented to make sense of behaviors that scare them, especially the ones that trigger that primal, prey response in us, because while we like to think we're powerful and in charge, it hasn't been all that long since lions, tigers, bears, and even dogs were wiping their asses with the likes of us. We may not be conscious of it, but we, as human beings, really hate the notion that we could be on someone else's menu; it brings with it a type of emotional discomfort and uneasiness that you just don't get from being called a homo or finding out your trashy wife is cheating on you with your dad.
So to make sense of the powerful emotional responses we experience, when dogs bite us, we call it aggression. When they kill cats, it's aggression. When they fight with rivals, it's aggression. It's something I ought to know a little about; I have, at the moment, 45 dogs, and of those, I consider 14 of them to be significantly dangerous or even deadly, and another 20 or so to have severe enough behavioral issues that I'd be extremely hesitant to ever consider adopting them out to even the most qualified caregiver. I only have six that I'd call 'safe'; three of those were my pets before I started officially doing dog rescue, and two are small dogs, of which one is feral and one has bitten several children and one old man. Hell, they all bite, even the 'safe' ones, so you might call me an expert on canine aggression. You might say I'm immersed in it, surrounded by it, that it's a huge part of my everyday life. But since I don't believe it exists, the red flags shoot up whenever I hear about dog trainers with that particular specialty, because if I'm as immersed in canine aggression as I am and yet disbelieve its existence, I have to wonder what the hell the experts think they're seeing that I've missed all these years, living with all these dogs that bite, fight, and kill.
Of course, the talk of aggression is just one part of it; when people start spouting all that pack leader, alpha male, dominance shit, I do a little whispering of my own: "Damn you Cesar Milan!" TV's a powerful medium, and all the disclaimers in the world won't keep your stupidest viewers from 'trying this at home'; you'd damn well better make sure that 'this' is based on sound science and produces reliable results, or we all suffer. And when you have only a high school education but still presume to operate a "dog psychology center", you're practically inviting the least educated and least experienced members of our society to follow your lead and call themselves experts, not to mention fostering an attitude that people in animal services need not have the credentials required of their human services counterparts.
The funny thing about experts who don't have any education or experience to back up their self-bestowed titles is that they fail to understand even the simplest principles: Choke a dog when he reacts to the presence of a second dog, and you teach him that whenever he sees a strange dog, he gets choked. Throw him on the ground and step on his neck and you teach him that whenever he sees a strange dog, someone's going to try to kill him. A smart dog learns from that experience and attacks the trainer before the trainer can attack him. The trainer, rather than admit to not knowing what the hell she's doing and seek help, pisses herself and blames the dog. And then I get a call. Thanks, Cesar.
As for my white whale, it was another no-show. All I found today was a sweet, friendly pit bull who doesn't like other dogs very much. I may be missing something, but I just can't see how that warrants a death sentence.
