So you’re ready to get started combating storm fear, right? Of all the various tools we’ll cover, these will be the most generally useful for the most cases.
Desensitization and counter-conditioning are often confused, and indeed they can be similar. Both involve starting at a very low level of exposure to the trigger and gradually raising it. But they are different processes.
It’s been a very stormy year across the country, and in the Midwest in particular. Since I have three dogs with three variants of sound/storm phobia or sensitivity, my former love and thrill for dramatic weather has degraded to a dejected, “Oh, more storms?!”
But storm fear or sound phobia doesn’t have to be the end of the world for your pets or the end of sanity for you. There are many options now to help fearful or sensitive dogs (and cats!), and no reason to tolerate unnecessary suffering in animals or humans. In the next few posts, I will share what is working well for us and for others, and you can be the hero in your own household!
In Indiana, our calendar has months like the rest of the world, but they’re called January, February, Mud, Tornadoes, Welcome Race Fans, June, July… The month known as April in other places is characterized here by severe thunderstorms and tornadoes, which is not only murder on dogs with thunder phobias (like my Valenzia), but means that occasionally, you might need a rubber raft to get to the mailbox.
When I wrote about training dogs to take pills on cue, one commenter asked about what would happen if the pills were really nasty; would the behavior remain? Great question!
Remember that fantastically foul candy which made a better punisher than reinforcer? Pretty aversive stuff, would have wrecked a good training plan. But have you seen a highly-desired treat fail to reinforce as well?
Our house is surrounded by a five-foot fence, and we drive through the gate each time we enter or exit. The effort of stopping the car, getting out to open the gate, pulling through, getting out to close the gate, and then driving on might seem tiresome, but it’s become a part of our routine.
Last night, I was compelled by a strong odor to give one of my Dobermans, Valenzia, a bath. Those of you who have seen Valenzia in action or read about her know that she is kind of an anxious dog — as in, wound so tight she makes a Slinky look downright relaxed. Fortunately, she is also very food-motivated, so bath time — once a terrifying, stressful experience — is now just the occasional unpleasant interlude that she has learned to barter for cookies.
Part 1 covered Inky’s uncertain backstory and roller coaster of health issues. Today, we’ll talk about how we’ve trained through blindness, and what we’ve learned about obedience, perception, trust, and control.
Inky, my husband’s dog, is blind. She wasn’t born this way; in fact, this is a fairly recent development for her, thanks to a very rare and unusual autoimmune disorder. We noticed her holding her head oddly one night, but thought it was just the light. By the time we realized she was having trouble seeing, it was progressing very fast. We estimate she lost most of her vision within two weeks.
Early this morning I saw Laurie’s fuzzy Valentine post about her husband and their dogs. It immediately made me want to write one of my own, but I was traveling by car all day and didn’t get a chance until late tonight.