The sun was bright but did nothing to warm up the seventeen-degree air. I was standing in the salt covered parking lot of a Home Depot with Zephyr. My bare fingers were poking through my fingerless gloves at the ready to dispense treats. Zephyr’s ears pricked forward as he saw my friend’s dog in the distance. We each moved our dogs back and forth inching closer to get each of our reactive dogs comfortable with one another. Back and forth. Click and treat. Move forward just a bit. Back up to remove the pressure when I see Zephyr stiffen. When one of the dogs barked, my friend would duck behind the van she was near or the giant pile of blackened iced snow from a storm over a week ago. We managed to get them nearer to one another, closing the distance to about ten feet. I was feeling good about this introduction of my reactive dog to another reactive dog. My friend also assists at the same reactive dog classes I do. Neither of us is new to reactivity. Neither of us gets uptight when our dog barks and lunges. It was nice to work with someone who understands.
Then I ran out of treats. So much for knowing what I’m doing. It’s a rookie mistake to run out of treats. Sigh. My friend then suggested going to a local dog park and letting them get used to each other there. We packed up our dogs and reconvened at the park, where several other dogs were already running about.
They had fun, and they had no issues. Despite my knowing it is so, I’m constantly amazed at how much a leash makes a difference with some dogs. It amazes me still that a thin strip of material can make that much of a difference, no matter if that material is slack or taught. I’ve heard dog reactivity described as a barrier issue, a description I prefer because it is more accurate. All dogs react. It’s part of living life, so having a reactive dog doesn’t really say much. To describe the dog as having issues with barriers (leashes, fences, being in a car) is much more descriptive. For example at the park, Zephyr started barking his fool head off at a little dog trying to enter from the adjacent soccer field. As soon as the gate was opened, Zephyr stopped barking and started the requisite butt sniffing. Both the leash and the gate prevent Zephyr from controlling his environment in his way. Off leash and without a physical barrier, he is free to engage, disengage, or not interact with the other dog as he so chooses.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I know Zephyr to be a happier dog when he is given choices. He is easier to shape into a behavior than lure. He is more satisfied on a walk if he gets to sniff what he wants to sniff without being hurried and if he has the impression that he is involved in the decision on which direction to go. It makes complete sense that if he had a choice in how he gets to greet a new dog, he’d be okay, but I guess given the magnitude of his reaction while on leash toward a dog versus his frustrated barking in trying to lure him into a new behavior, it just seems like a different thing.
I ended up leaving because Zephyr started looking lost and unsure. I had left Zoe home because of the temperature. She did not need to sit in a cold car while I did the introduction of Zephyr to my friend’s dog when she could stay curled up warm in her covered bed. My friend left with me and the dogs were perfectly agreeable standing side by side outside the park on their leashes. They’d introduce themselves on their terms and now everything was cool.
Comments