Don't Dump The Dog

by Randy Grim

  The problem—what I call The Great Misconception Meant to Make Randy’s Life Difficult—is that the early wolf researchers got it WRONG, all WRONG, and, in fact, SO WRONG, that this trendy little dog-training technique resulted in trendy little stitches for many sorry people. You wouldn’t believe how many power freaks glommed onto the alpha-roll theory and how many of their dogs I re-rescued as a result.

  What researchers thought they were seeing—an alpha wolf grabbing a subordinate and flipping it to the ground—was actually the subordinate wolf offering his muzzle to the leader who then placed his own muzzle gently over it. The subordinate then voluntarily rolled to the ground. Reread the italicized words in the last sentence, because they’re important to remember when dealing with an aggressive dog. It is more like Wolf Theater and acting. The leader wolf doesn’t use force; the subordinate wolf volunteers submission (as in, willingly). The only time, and I mean the only time a wolf uses force against another wolf is when he wants to kill it, literally, and as contemporary wolf researcher David L. Mech wrote in his paper, “Alpha Status, Dominance, and Division of Labor in Wolf Packs,” “Dominance contests with other wolves are rare, if they exist at all.”

  This takes us back to why an aggressive dog is often just trying to save his family. According to Dr. Mech and others who’ve actually lived with wolves, the alpha male and female do not lead as pistol-carrying tyrants who use force to control the pack, but rather as parents who use diplomacy to control who sits where at dinnertime. A wolf pack is, in fact, a family unit usually consisting of the parents, their pups of various ages from various litters, and an outsider or two allowed in from other packs to keep things copacetic. There’s no mysterious, primal, hierarchical structure here; a wolf pack is simply a wolf family, and the alpha male and female are Mom and Dad—pretty basic Brady Bunch logic here.

  As such, Mom and Dad rule, and any displays of “dominance” are really just Mom and Dad making sure everyone stays safe and gets fed. When the pack brings down prey, for example, Mom and Dad eat first—not because they need to display their power, as previously thought, but to keep themselves strong enough to take care of the kids (why I eat first at home with my “kids”). It’s the same principle behind putting the air mask over your own face before Junior’s when the plane goes down. They in turn decide who eats next. If times are good—and for wolves, this would be when large prey like moose are taken down—everyone eats at the same time. If times are bad and the prey is small, Mom and Dad “ration” by feeding the youngest pups first and allotting the older siblings only what’s left. “Thus,” Mech writes, “the most practical effect of social dominance is to allow the dominant individual the choice of to whom to allot food.” Simple as that: It’s all about groceries.

  The only fighting or jostling for dominance in a wolf family takes place among the pups, who establish future alphas while they’re little, before they can inflict any real harm on each other. Once pups decide potential alpha-ness, it’s pretty much set in stone for the rest of their lives. That way, when Mom or Dad get older, or die, the successor has already been chosen and can step peacefully into place.

  Mom and Dad, therefore, “rule” with calm, inherent authority, because they have nothing to prove. As parents, they are leaders in the purest sense of the word, because their goal has nothing to do with self-interest but with the safety of the family as a whole. They don’t bare their teeth or roll subordinates to the ground or in any way strut their stuff to display their strength, because as parents, as true leaders, they don’t need to.

  And neither do you.

  If you bring a new dog into your family and he acts aggressively toward you, it’s because he doesn’t understand who’s leading the pack. You, apparently, aren’t, so for him it’s like entering a pack of insecure, squabbling pups, trying to determine future alpha-ness. If even one leadership chromosome inhabits his body, he’ll step in to fill the void, because in every functional family, someone has to take charge.

  Let me regurgitate: Your new dog, the biological equivalent of a wolf pup, enters your home expecting to find the functional fairy-tale family, complete with calm, dignified parental leaders and kids who adore and obey them. But if he possesses any dominant tendencies and finds no leadership—the leadership that should be there, that must be there if his new pack is to survive—he’ll automatically assume that role so the pack does survive. He thinks he is helping restore order to the dysfunctional clan.

  In other words, when your dominant-aggressive dog growls or bites, he is not challenging your authority; he’s already assumed leadership and is reprimanding you for challenging his.

  Unfortunately, and in large part because of The Great Misconception Meant to Make Randy’s Life Difficult, dominance aggression in dogs usually plays out as follows:

  Scene I: Mr. Dump decides the family should have a dog and assigns Mrs. Dump the task of finding several candidates from which he can choose. Mr. Dump chooses Copper, a seemingly docile, well-behaved female.

  Scene II: Copper enters her new pack expecting Mr. and Mrs. Dump to act like rational and mature alphas, only Mr. Dump acts like an adolescent beta (physically aggressive, stomps around yelling a lot, proves his point ad nauseam), and Mrs. Dump acts like a submissive omega (physically passive, lavishes undue affection, provides unlimited food in the bowl). Copper assumes the alphas were killed by musk oxen while out hunting.

  Scene III: Copper decides she must save this dysfunctional pack from certain extinction, so she steps up and fills the leadership vacancy. She doesn’t want to, but the only other candidate is the parakeet, and he’s behind bars.

  Scene IV: While Mrs. Dump seems to understand her position as lowest in the pack, Mr. Dump doesn’t understand his. He indirectly challenges Copper’s authority on a regular basis—he growls, he raises his hackles, he tries to clip her toenails—and while she uses strict but fair reprimands to nip things in the bud (quite literally), he just doesn’t get it.

  Scene V: Mr. Dump goes too far one day and grabs Copper by the throat, throws her to the ground, and pushes his face up into hers. It is a direct challenge, and he means to kill her.

  Copper responds accordingly.

  Finale: Mr. Dump writes a “Dear Randy” letter.

  Almost any dog, no matter how dominant, will resign his leadership post if a better leader surfaces. Remember, dogs are mentally equivalent to wolf pups, and if you act like their parent—like a true leader who controls the resources without using force—they will follow you gladly. Consider which boss you’d throw a lifeline to if necessary: the short-tempered, highly stressed bully who uses threats of demotions and firings based on compliance, or the even-tempered, calm-headed boss who promises promotions based on merit.

  While we’ve spent the last billion paragraphs setting up the solution, which was necessary, the solution itself is the easiest in the entire book to accomplish. It’s so easy, in fact, that you might feel a little cheated when you find out that all you have to do is ...

  ... teach the dog to sit.

  The collective “Huh?” that just escaped the lips of the audience was expected, so never fear, Randy is here, with an explanation almost as simple as the solution itself: Since leaders control the resources, you must control the resources. If you control the resources, you are by definition the alpha, and the dog’s dominance aggression disappears.

  What are the resources? The things your dog wants (food, toys, and access to the yard).

  How do you control the resources? Teach him to sit before he gets them.

  Before the dog gets food, he sits. Before he goes outside, he sits. Before you pet him, play with him, or even glance in his direction, he sits. Every time. For every resource.

  Three important distinctions need to be made at this point. One is that you are not forcing your dog to sit; you are teaching him to sit to get what he wants. If he doesn’t sit when you ask him, he doesn’t get access to the goods. It’s as simple as that. You don’t yell at him
or coerce him to sit. He sits, period. If he doesn’t sit the first time you ask him, you walk away and he doesn’t get what he wants. There’s no emotion involved whatsoever, which is important, because alphas don’t humor anybody in any way. (Just had a flashback to Sister Agnes; maybe she was a werewolf.)

  The second distinction is that leaders initiate and followers react. This is a well-worn, classic concept, but as the alpha, you must initiate access to resources rather than your dog. So, for instance, if you sit on your couch and the dog comes up to you looking for attention and you pet him, he initiated and you reacted. If you sit on the couch and the dog comes up to you looking for attention and you ask him to sit, he sits, and then you pet him, guess what? He still initiated and you still reacted. If, however, you sit on the couch, the dogs seeks attention, you completely ignore him until he walks away, and then you ask him to sit, he sits, and you pet him, you have initiated and he has reacted.

  The third distinction is that this is not a power struggle you are required to win every time. Case in point: You bring a new, adult dog into your life who growls if you get too close to him while he’s eating. This isn’t a fight worth fighting, believe me, and it doesn’t make sense to try. Even omega wolves growl at alphas if they invade eating space. The important point is that the alpha gave the food in the first place. The alpha controlled the resource from the start. If it weren’t for the alpha, the omega wouldn’t be eating. So if your dog is protective of his food, leave him alone while he’s eating, but make sure he sits before you give him the food. In time you can desensitize his food aggression by feeding him out of your hand. I recommend to everyone who has a puppy that you feed the animal from your hands, and pet, touch, and talk while the li’l guy is eating, for this will save you from writing me in a year with a stitchedup finger.

  Okay, let’s say you’ve just brought home your new pack member, a cute, little, yellow dog named Omelet, and for a week or two, he’s a great dog: He’s house-trained, he fetches, and he loves your attention. You in turn are a great parent: You buy a wicker basket for his toys, so he can play with them whenever he wants; you leave a full bowl of dry food out so he can eat when he’s hungry; and, you give him comfy spaces on your couch and bed and pet him whenever he wants, so he feels loved.

  But then one day, you try to take Omelet’s stuffed purple octopus away, and he growls and maybe even snaps quickly in your direction. Depending on your personality, either you yank your hand back and say, “I’m sorry,” or you grab the stuffed octopus out of his mouth and yell, “BAD OMELET!”—both normal reactions based on fear, but both inappropriate, because they show Omelet your loss of emotional control.

  Then Omelet starts growling whenever you walk within twelve feet of his wicker basket. He starts growling when you get near his food bowl. Then Omelet starts growling when you give him a bath or clip his nails, because you’re invading his personal space.

  And then one night, Omelet jumps in his bed, but when you follow, he growls. Again, depending on your personality, either you sneak a pillow off the bed and sleep on the floor, or you threaten him with the pillow and eternal damnation. When Omelet reacts by snapping the air in your direction, you fall completely off your rocker and grab him by the throat, drag him onto the floor, hold him down, and hiss something alpha-esque, like “I am the boss,” while staring him directly in the eyes, and Omelet, who thinks you’re threatening his life, defends himself. (All very reminiscent of my last relationship; which, my editor is quick to point out, is beside the point.)

  Now, before I tell you what an idiot you were, I must clarify that many dogs, especially timid ones, will thrive on love and affection. As long as they show no dominance aggression toward you, love away. If, however, they are like Omelet and do have dominance tendencies, then you’ve basically handed them the resources and the leadership perks that go with them. You gave him endless toys, unlimited food, and unconditional access to your attention, all with no strings attached, which Omelet read as, “We’re idiots. Please lead us.”

  So, you made some mistakes. Here’s how you fix them:

  Stage the Coup Have someone take Omelet for a walk. While he’s gone, throw away the wicker basket, hide all of his toys on the top shelf of the hall closet, and pick up his food bowl and hide that too.

  Commence the Transition When Omelet gets home, ignore him. Don’t greet him at the door and don’t pet him for the rest of the day. He’ll probably pace around looking for his stuff, and when he doesn’t find it, he’ll whine and demand your attention. Pretend he’s not there. Don’t feed him, and don’t give him his toys. When he needs to go out, have him sit first, give him one small treat—don’t say “Good boy” or in any way praise him—and then let him out. That night, do not let him in the bedroom.

  Take Control of the Resources From this point forward, act aloof around Omelet and have him sit before you give him anything, including your attention. Since you gave him no access to food the day before, he’ll be hungry, so start with a simple request to sit while you’re holding out a treat. When he sits, give him the treat but don’t say anything to him. Act aloof. Now, take out his leash and have him sit before you open the door. If he doesn’t sit, say nothing, and show no emotion; just walk away and try again five minutes later. Eventually, he’ll get the idea and sit. When it’s time to eat, take out the food bowl, put food in it, and then ask him to sit. If he doesn’t sit, walk away and try again later, though he probably will, because he’s pretty hungry by now. By the time you’re ready to give him a toy, he should know the drill. It’s your toy now, not his, and if he wants to play, he has to request permission by sitting when you ask.

  Then, for the rest of the day—and for the rest of his life—repeat these actions before you give him anything.

  Happy Endings for No-Win Situations

  Never take the food bowl away from him while he’s eating. Once he sits and you reward him with food, it’s his.

  Don’t let him sleep on your bed at night—period. This helps avoid any misunderstanding about who’s boss.

  Don’t pit yourself against your dog with weapons such as nail clippers or running bath water. Why do you think God created grooming shops anyway? Let the groomer be the bad guy and you the hero when you pick him up, all nice and clean.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cowardly Lions

  Phone message #1: Morning, Randy, it’s Jenn. Uh, someone chained a little dog wearing a diaper to the shelter door last night. There’s a note that says, “Please take care of our Splinter. We love him, but he bites and pittles in the house, and we don’t know what else to do with him.” Call me back.

  Phone message #2: Hello. We need a guest speaker for our conference. We are trying to locate Randy Grim.

  Phone message #3: Randy, Jenn again. The little dog, Splinter, seems scared to death, so I’m going to have one of the volunteers take him for a walk until you call back ...

  Phone message #4: Hi, Randy. This is Dr. Gupta’s office. We received a call from your pharmacy and instructed them not to refill your prescriptions until you make and keep your next appointment.

  Phone message #5: This is Books-R-Us. Your order for Reducing Anxiety through Hypnosis has arrived.

  Phone message #6: Randy, it’s Jenn again. Splinter just bit one of the volunteers and we’re on our way to the emergency room. Where are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone? Call me back.

  Dear Readers, someone hand me a noose, please. Don’t worry—I’d never use it, because along with aeronausiphobia (the fear of vomiting on airplanes), taeniophobia (the fear of tapeworms), triskaidekaphobia (the fear of the number 13), pupaphobia (the fear of puppets), and medomalacuphobia (which is too embarrassing to define here), I have also been diagnosed with thanatophobia (the fear of death), and something that hasn’t been named yet, as far as Dr. Gupta knows—the fear of dying and not being found for several weeks and totally grossing out whoever finds me—which he thinks is a self-image issue rather than a phobia.

/>   Anyway, the point is that I understand fear, and I understand why dogs like Splinter with fear aggression bite people. I fantasize about it all the time. The big problem is that it’s hard to distinguish fear aggression from dominance aggression, which we treat very differently, so here are some visual clues that indicate fear versus dominance when she lashes out at you:

  He lowers or completely tucks his tail (dominant dogs raise their tails);

  he pulls his ears back horizontally (dominant dogs raise their ears);

  he looks away from you (dominant dogs stare you in the eye);

  he growls and snarls as a warning before he bites (dominant dogs usually don’t bother with the warning); or • his fur stands on end, and he salivates and/or urinates (sure signs of fear not displayed by dominant dogs).

  Fearful dogs are usually either those who didn’t socialize with people when they were puppies, who experienced abuse, or who have painful physical ailments. You can tell the difference this way: Unsocialized dogs are afraid of things in general, like all men and all children; abused dogs are afraid of specific things, such as belts or raised hands; and dogs with pain are afraid of being touched.

  It’s a fight-flight-freeze thing (from this point forward called the F-Word Syndrome) that Dr. Gupta described as “an acute stress response involving an intense discharge of the locus ceruleus that activates the sympathetic division of the automatic nervous system,” which I asked him to write down, because I also have Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia, which is a fear of long words.