Dog parks, longe lines, and dogs making choices

It's Sunday morning, and Ellie and I go for our Meditation Walk. She settles in quickly, curious about her world of walkers, runners, birds, and the sounds of barking at the dog park that lies to west, beyond the ball field and tennis courts.

She's happy, tongue lolling, eye soft. She stops to let people by, with a doggie smile and containing her exuberance to her wagging tail.

Today I've brought my longe line, which we use for horses. My plan is to give her plenty of line, so she can more freely pursue her interests, and I can reward her for attention to me, and we can practice her recall away from home, working on distance. Her recall, offline and in the house and yard, is nearly 100%. I've got a few kinks to work out here, as she took off after some birds, and got too hard of a jerk back to the ground, but in general I accomplished what I wanted to accomplish. Time for the dog park.

As we got closer to the park, I saw there were about 7 dogs. Some she knows, some I had not seen before. She was her usual excited self as we made our way to the gates. I let her in to the ante-area, took off the leash, and the dogs rushed up to greet her through the fence. Two of the dogs were quite assertive, and then the other dogs arrived. Rather than just take her in, I decided to wait this out, to see what Ellie's choice would be. We've noticed that she gets overwhelmed with more than a few dogs, and we've noticed that she is uncomfortable around very assertive dogs.

After sniffing fence, sniffing noses, and making eye contact, she went to the gate - the gate to the outside, and waited. Pretty clear. I snapped on her leash, and we walked quietly home.

Yoga Dog: It's a good job if you can get it

Ellie and I are exploring how yoga as a model for dog training works. The definition of yoga, from the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, 1.2: Yogas citta vritti nirodha, interpreted as : Yoga is the ability to focus the mind on one thing without distraction. (Desikachar, Heart of Yoga).

In clicker training, we teach a dog a new behavior, and then work towards the dog being able to accomplish that behavior for duration, distance, and under distraction. So, it seems as if clicker training and the definition of yoga would work quite well together. (They do.)

But here's the thing, we humans are the ones who are always deciding what the distraction is. What if we question that assumption - that its all about us?

Today Ellie and I went out for our Meditation Walk. In Meditation Walk, I put away the clicker, I put away the treats, and I announce, "time for meditation". I hold the leash loosely (say that quickly 3 times) and in both hands, the leash in front of my body, balancing my hands to the leash. I take a long exhale, and we walk our variable pattern at the ball field, around the bleacher, around the bench for the disabled, changing direction periodically.

People come and go, we might stop, wait, and then start again. If she gets so interested in that dog, that runner, then I just stop and count my exhales. When she turns her attention back towards me, we begin our walk again. We do our meditation for about 15 minutes today, then I tell her, "Good dog." and I take her to the grass for some doggie sniff time.

Ellie actually seems to like Meditation Walk. The idea of the walk, for me, is to be out in the world, being in the world, at the same time that I am mindful of my breathing, the pressure of my feet against the ground, the balance of lightness and firmness in my connection to Ellie. I am aware of her actions, and part of Meditation Walk is to help her be as aware of my actions, without my having to tell her. Maybe she's more aware of me than I can tell, I suspect sometimes yes, sometimes not, her attention, like my own, drifting around at times, at other times, focusing, focused.

Today, she sniffed a single piece of grass for the space of 4 long breaths (mine) - which is just under a minute (when I'm deliberately breathing long). The definition of yoga, in the sniff of a single blade of grass. Who is teaching who?

Do dogs have expectations?

When I brush my teeth in the morning, Ellie goes to her kennel. She's done that since day 1 of bringing her home from Central Arizona Animal Rescue. Somewhere along the way, in the language of dog training, she associated the cue of 'human brushes teeth' to her behavior of going into the kennel.

Is that an expectation?

Once we break out the Camelbaks, Ellie goes into a flurry of activity, back and forth to the door, whining. There's a whole slew of activity that takes place before we get to wherever we are going.

I pick up my keys to drive to teach my next yoga class. Ellie takes herself off to her kennel for a biscuit, some fresh water.

I pick up my keys to run some errands, and Ellie runs to the door. Open the door, she runs to the gate. If she gets to go for a ride, the excited whining starts.

Expectation. Or simple association? Is there a difference?

What do you think, and what actions of your dog drive how you think about it?

Losing ground, gaining perspective. Click!

Today was one of those days, one of those days where you wonder why in the world you ever thought you were a dog trainer. Then, realizing that the pain from this healing sprained ankle is useful in this work of working with dogs in a yogic way.

Ellie's training over the last three weeks has been more sporadic, and more focused on running through the basics in the house and the back yard. With no distraction other than the occasional cat-in-the-way, she cruises through her come, sit, down, by me, close and off-leash cues. She's had a few dog park visits and some swims in the pool and some toy-tossing and has been learning her jump-on-cue to work off some of her energy.

Today we went back to our walking meditation, which had been coming along so beautifully before my ankle injury. At least, that was the intention.

Alas, Ellie was distracted by everything, all of the park walkers, dogs, the two guys practicing martial arts way off in the distance, the bird overhead. It took us about 10 minutes to make our way to the park, which is about 1 minute away from the house. I had to break out the clicker just to reward her for a semblance of attention.

I don't usually click during walking meditation. It's a common misconception among people who are unfamiliar with clicker training that you forever click for simple behaviors. Once the dog or horse understands the behavior, you don't need to always click and reward for that same behavior. It's useful, though, to occasionally do so, just as a little reminder.

But, several minutes into what is usually a rhythmic breathing and walking at a comfortable pace in a familiar pattern, I realized I needed to make a change. Ellie was back at her old lunging, leaping, and one dog-walker asked me, "Is your dog under control?" She was, but.

That mental state of wanting 'my dog to behave so I don't look like a fool' came up loud and messy. My breathing became shallower. I realized that my ankle was throbbing with pain and my stance was out of balance.

This agitated and unbalanced state is one I'm well acquainted with, although usually I'm seeing it in clients. It isn't that I don't fall into agitated and unbalanced states, it's just that it happens less and less the longer and more attentively I practice my yoga.

Now, it was me. Instead of serving my dog by breathing more rhythmically, exhaling longer, and being aware of my feet, legs, hips and connection to the earth, I was contributing to her agitation and lack of attention. When this happens with a client, I'm able to assist the client to stop and breathe and take a few moments to collect. With a client or student, we might spend a little time addressing what they are experiencing, and perhaps make some changes to help the person and the dog to be more comfortable and / or present.

So, I had this little observation conversation with myself. I just stopped, took 5 long exhales. When Ellie looked at me, I clicked and rewarded her. When she came to my side, I clicked and rewarded her. With her at my side, I evaluated the state of my ankle and thus my posture. I made a conscious choice to switch to the the Gentle Leader, which has the effect of reducing her pulling behavior.

We went back to our walking meditation, but this time I clicked and rewarded her for staying close. We walked in our pattern for about 5 minutes, then I let her do her sniff-walk as her big reward.

We walked home, and it only took us 1 minute.

Dog Yoga according to Ellie

When I first started trying to practice yoga, Ellie would get so excited with me being on the floor, that I put her outside to play in the yard. The other day, she lay down with me as I did a relaxation with legs up the wall.

Today, I decided I would just do my practice, and see where she was. As I started to do standing poses, she jumped up on me, so I removed her from the room. I decided to open the room when I began pranayama, breathing regulation practice, just as an experiment.

I can only imagine how cute she must have looked, as she rested her paw in my open palm, then rested her head on her own paw. I kept my eyes closed and kept breathing, and she stayed right with me, for about 10 minutes. She withdrew for awhile and I settled into a meditation.

Then, I felt her gently place one of her tattered rope chewies across my arm and quietly leave the room.

Dog does yoga - what do you think? I'd like to read your comments.
Namaste.

Ellie finds relaxation through yoga

Ellie isn't known to be the most relaxed dog. She is happiest, it seems, in the midst of movement. Always, before today, when I went to do my yoga practice, I would need to have her go outside, or hang out in her kennel, or behind a cross pen. She would mouth at me, get excited when I got on the floor, and run for her toys.

Today was different. Taking my own advice, I decided to take a break from doing taxes and lay down with my legs up the wall. She followed me into the yoga space (some cleared out floor in my 8 x 10 office/bead studio/yoga studio) and when my legs went up the wall, she lay calmly down at my head and gave me a few licks on the palm of my hand. She stayed with me for about 5 minutes, then quietly left. I found her laying belly up in her kennel in a perfect doggie svasana.

Maybe it doesn't seem like much, but it sure made me happy, and ready and refreshed to hit those tax records again. And Ellie's relaxing by my side.

Which is the happiest dog?

Take a look at these pictures of Ellie, and then vote (using the poll at the righ) for which picture (blue scarf or not blue scarf) shows the happy dog.

I would love it if you would use the comment section to let me know what helps you to your conclusion.