Learning When to hit yourself with a Newspaper

Many of us in Panama have pets. I’m not sure what the ratio is amongst the population of dogs, cats, fish or other small animals in Panama, but I did find this interesting chart about animals in the USA.

Rank	Pet	Total Number in the USA
1	Freshwater fish	171,700,000
2	Cat	93,600,000
3	Dog	79,500,000
4	Small Pets	15,900,000

Interestingly enough, even though fish and cats outnumber dogs by number in the USA, there is still a larger number of households with dogs than with any other animal as a pet.  That’s because most of those who have dogs have less dogs than those who have cats, have cats.  Did that make sense?

Long before the famed “Dog Whisperer”, Cesar Millan started his show in 2004, I’ve been interested in animal behavior.  At the time, we were doing it wrong and I had no idea.  When I was very young, between the ages of 6 and 10 years old, my mom, who has always loved animals with all her heart, kept two very sweet poodles for breeding.  Tuffy and Muffet were bred so every now and again, when Muffet had puppies, we could make a few extra dollars to make it along for a few more months.  It was a mini puppy farm.  We never abused them, they were never kept in kennels, ever, and they were fed very well.  Apart from that, they were a part of the family.  It was still wrong.  That’s the lighter side of it.  Dad, on the other hand, kept poor Milo tied up outside on a chain since the day he got him.  It didn’t matter if it was summer, winter or whatever.  That dog lived outside.  He did have a dog house that Milo chewed up and would climb up on when he needed to see, whatever it was he needed to see in the distance.  You’d think he would have been a mean dog, but Milo was always as sweet as the day Dad got him and chained him outside.  I never liked that, but that’s the way things were.  And that’s not even the worst part of animals in the family.  We also had cats.  When the cats would have kittens, the kittens would be taken over the hill in the woods and their lives ended with one shot from the shot gun.  When you grow up with this, you think that this is the way things are.  Anywhere.  Wherever.  I know that my sisters never liked that either, but they were in the same boat I was in.  That’s just the way things were.  

I’ll never forget how sometimes when Milo did something “wrong”, Dad would whack him with a rolled-up newspaper.  One day we were watching this sitcom on TV.  The family dog had piddled on the floor and the owner exclaimed to his visiting friend, “What the heck am I supposed to do about getting him to go poddy outside?”.  The friend said, “Git me a newspaper and I’ll show you.”.  The man gave him the newspaper and he patiently rolled it up nicely and then WHACK!, he hit the dog’s owner in the head with the rolled up newspaper.  “Why’d you hit me dummy, you’re supposed to hit the dog!” And the friend said, “It’s your fault if your dog doesn’t know where he’s supposed to go, not his!”.  I think at that very moment everyone in the room at the time turned to look at Dad.  “What?”, dad shot looks back at us.  That event stuck with me to this day.  If your pet doesn’t know what it’s doing wrong it’s the fault of the trainer.  

That holds true for us as well.  If we don’t know that what we do is wrong, it’s the fault of our teachers, parents and peers.  It’s also true that if we don’t spend the time needed to teach and train them, someone or something else will.  Behaviors are learned via many sources, not just from us as parents or “owners”, as we attempt to educate these young beings, whether they be our children or our family furies.  

The good thing about growing up with Tuffy and Muffet and watching the miracle of birth, the way she lovingly took care of them and how Mom was always watchful over the newborns, was seeing how they would learn traits from the mother, traits that we had taught her first.  Both of the poodles would scratch on the door when they wanted to go outside to do their dirty deed.  As soon as the puppies were old enough to stray away from their boxes and had the strength to prance and play, they too would eventually learn this behavior from their parents.  Even before this, I was amazed at their behavior as pups who had barely opened their eyes.  Once the pups could eat soft foods or “puppy formula” as mom called it and no longer looked for their mother for sustenance, Mom always created a set of three boxes connected together for them to move from one to the other through doorways that she would cut out for them for their ease in transit.  Each box had a specific function.  One would be for feeding, another for sleeping and the other for their other bodily necessities.  They knew which ones they needed to do each in, yet they were so small how did Mom train them to do THAT?  Well, she didn’t.  This is an inherent trait that they have.  Dogs are born “knowing” not to “do their thing” where they sleep or where they eat.  Nor will they sleep, where they eat or… …well, you get the point.  So, “training” a dog to “go” outside, really isn’t complicated.  If your dogs are doing this inside your house, instead of outside the house, what you first need to do is buy a newspaper and then proceed to bash yourself over the head with it.  Potty training is mostly about you taking the time to create the habit of the dogs wanting to go outside, or creating a method to facilitate them to exit the house via a “doggy door” or a collar-activated door sensor.

When I met Queen Sayira, she didn’t like cats or dogs.  She had been “trained” that way from very little (like, even littler than she is now, if you could believe it).  One dog bit her and a cat killed her parakeet.  I suppose that’s enough for anyone to not like a cat.  I thought that if I could get her around dogs enough, I could convince her to eventually like them.  After a few years, we met half way to the point where she actually picked out her own dog for a pet; Mickey.  But she wouldn’t go as far as I would where I allowed my dogs to sleep in my bed and roam the house as they pleased.  That was taking things too far for her.

The most difficult dog to train is a stray mutt.  Accustomed to living in the street with the world being its bed, food source and “necessities chamber”, makes for quite the challenge to condition towards a more domesticated environment.  As I became more and more stable in Panama, my love for strays and other adult dogs whose owners either didn’t want them or couldn’t care for them any longer grew.  I was taking in all of the dogs that I could handle and at one point had 10 dogs at my house in Las Cumbres.  Most of them were brought in as adults in one condition or another except for 4 pups who as predicted just followed in the exact footsteps of the mother as soon as they were big enough to do so.

Interestingly enough, they were still all very predictable.  They were all trained to “go” outside, they ate on a schedule and slept wherever they wanted to in the house.  One of the dogs in particular was “Bear”.  “Bearsy” as we called him was the gentlest dog but he looked… …rough.  Of course, you’d look rough too if someone took a bat to the side of your head knocking out an eye and leaving you almost completely deaf.  We picked him up like that from the streets.  A street dog in every sense, Bear would eat anything he found anywhere and by any means.  One day, I forgot to get dog food, but had a lot of Spanish Mackeral from a recent fishing trip.  I prepared the fish, removing all of the bones and discarding them to the trash, giving him and two other dogs, I had at the time, a small portion of fish.  I didn’t want to overdo it either with the fish oil.  The following day, Bearsy was extremely sick.  He had gotten to the trash and eaten all of the fish bones.  Rushing him to the vet, the doctor looked at me and shrugged gave me this look saying “Are you kidding me?  This poor guy looks like he should have been dead months ago.”  

“Just do what you can, doc.”, I hoped “what you can” was going to be enough.  The X-Rays showed any number of fish bones protruding through his esophagus and stomach.  It looked like he had swallowed a porcupine.  Doc promised that he’d do whatever he could for him.  When it was over, doc explained that Bearsy had gone into respiratory arrest twice and he was also ripe with cancer.  Doc didn’t think he had much time to live.  He was kind enough to also tend to his already previously sewed-up bad eye.  He cleaned up some other wounds and even removed a small piece of the cancer that he found, but then just decided that it was going to be too much for a dog that had already been through so much.  Bear held on for 6 more months.  We were together every day and if I was gone for too long, I felt like wherever I was, Bear was taking the decision to slip on to the Rainbow Bridge.  A few times I’d come home and find him under a bed completely lifeless.  I’d get under there with him and call out to him, petting him until he did come back.  We got close enough to the point where I truly believe we created a form of symbiosis.  Bear respected me and the other dogs respected the both of us.  Six months later, I had to leave for Vegas to a conference; it was the first trip I’d taken since that operation.  On day two of my trip, Bearsy laid down under the boat and went to sleep for the last time.  I didn’t get to see him.  I didn’t get to bury him.  His spot is in the back yard with a few others worthy characters.  Through this experience I was convinced that there was more to dogs than just having them as pets.  There’s more to it than chaining them in the yard or keeping them in cages for when you want to play with them.  Yes, they’re animals with a much lesser intelligence than us, but the connection that could be formed with them is something greater than I feel most realize.

We now have Mickey and Goofy.  Mickey is Goofy’s dad.  Mickey is also a lot larger than Goofy is as even though they’re both Cocker Spaniels, Mickey is a Black and White English Cocker Spaniel and Goofy’s mom was a smaller Black American Cocker Spaniel and Goofy took after her.  (Doc once suggested that Mickey also had a little bit of Springer Spaniel in him because of his snout, but that’s not important here, nor did I ever break that news to him.)  Our family, as a collective whole, should all purchase individual newspapers and smack ourselves silly with them.  These two dogs are not potty trained in the least.  I would blame myself, but I was barely around.  Besides, who actually likes taking the blame for anything?  Fact is, I didn’t want these two dogs when we got them.  I’m not saying that I don’t care about them, I truly do.  But before them, after our last dog passed away (Soledad or just “Sol” for short), getting another dog, just to have one around wasn’t for me.  Besides, Sayira wasn’t a very big fan of them either (yet), but she was working on it.  As a matter of fact, she’s the one who chose Mickey and “rescued” him for $80.00 from the bad people who were mistreating him.

After getting Mickey at the beginning of 2013 (you’ll note below he was born in December 2012), he was Sayira’s to deal with, play with and to condition.  He loves Sayira, but he doesn’t respect her.  Then when we were caretakers for Goofy’s mom, whom we were reassured was NOT in heat and possibly had a disinterest for the male of her species, well, Goofy and 5 others were to be had shortly after.  We asked to keep Goofy as a reminder of that event.  So now, we had two dogs who had no respect for their master, so I hoped to do something about it.  I figured that between her, the maid, the boys and me when I was lucky to be around, we could work as a team to ensure these unruly dogs would soon become really rulable.  I designed a system for feedings, established a protocol for the outings they should have as well as specified other important trivia about the two of them and plastered it on the kitchen refrigerator where we tend to put any number of documents that we like to hang up but never bother to look at.  And here they are in all their glory (still stuck up on that darn fridge since about 6 years ago now):

As usual, I was ignored.  Even the Kcal count written in pen, that I meticulously scientifically calculated is fading.  The other humans in the household would just pour a random amount of dry dog food into their bowls and let them fend for themselves.  You’ll even note that in their list of “hobbies” Mickey enjoys “pooping wherever he wants to” and Goofy “loves peeing in the house”.  How sad is it that I actually had to joke about their poor behavior (or MY poor training attempts)?

But the good news is now we’re all on quarantine together and together we can control the feedings, the outings and the necessities of the doggos.  Even though Mickey is almost 8 years old (56 in dog terms) and Goofy is just recently turned 5yrs (35 in dog terms), we need to get them on board with the not peeing on everything in the kitchen scenario that has Queen Sayira on the verge of not liking dogs anymore.  How do we do this?  We use the same plan as if they were new stray dogs to the house.  We have to get them into a new routine that isn’t forced, but instead rewarded and more importantly that comes naturally.  And as long as we don’t tell them that Cocker Spaniels are one of the top 5 most difficult breeds to potty train, we should be OK.

The long story short, it worked.  The feeding schedule, the verbal praise for being “good boys” and our trusting them to roam the house seems to have paid off.  It took about a month of persistence, but we now have two dogs who only do their duty outside the house.

And after five pages of me talking about dogs and behaviors, you’d think I was done.  Well, no, no I’m not done yet.  I’m worried about the future for dogs everywhere.  You’ll note that I haven’t mentioned cats here that much.  I love cats.  I don’t have one, because our benevolent dictating queen is not fond of them at all.  And that’s ok.  But I haven’t mentioned cats because cats really don’t give a rat’s ass about problems in the world or attachments to humans.  I’m convinced that any time they show any signs of love or commitment, it’s just because they can’t use a can opener.  They’re the epitome of the “user” concept.  But most importantly, training a cat to do their thing outside, is unnecessary.  You can drop a box of shredded paper on the floor and they’ll quickly learn to do it there if you don’t have kitty litter.  And if you have cats, don’t give your kids a sandbox.  Yuck.

Our routine pre-COVID was outside the house.  Sayira and the boys left around 6AM for school and I left either a bit earlier than they did, or a bit later, but no later than 9AM.  The dogs were always at the mercy of our maid, Xiomara.  “Xioma” is a good person and she took great care of the dogs with their feedings etc.  She would clean up the mess they left after their apparent night of drunken debauchery, but she wouldn’t keep true to the schedule.  For her, our dogs were free spirits, born to roam as they please without a care in the world.  Fine Xiomara, as long as you clean up after them.  But along with that came the psychological aspect that we weren’t taking into consideration.  The dogs didn’t really care if we were there or not.  I’m sure they still liked us and just like cats, they still needed someone to open the cans for them.  But there was a certain indifference that I feel is unnatural.  We weren’t playing with them nearly as much as a Cocker should be played with.  The maid gave them their food.  We would merely take them outside at night one more time before bed, only for them to run around the back yard and happily return just to lift their legs on the trash bin or some plastic bag with random contents that Queen Sayira would haphazardly abandon with little thought to the inevitable yellow puddle it would become one with before the night was over.  Being on quarantine and with Xiomara no longer with us, it meant an important change for Mickey and Goofy.  They would be played with more, cared for more, petted more; quite simply they would be loved more than ever before.  But what about our dogs AFTER quarantine and the effects of the Coronavirus?

There are three primary theories on dog psychology or dog behavior:

1. Schenkel’s pack mentality concepts
2. Pavlov’s dog psychology with classical conditioning
3. Skinner’s operant conditioning & positive reinforcement

Pack mentality

First, we’ll go over pack mentality.  This older concept of dog psychology suggests the best way to bond with your pet dog would be to set firm boundaries and limitations. The idea being that you establish yourself as leader of the family pack.  Our pack is generally lead by Queen Sayira and she’s still learning about dogs, so I’ve made my stake in being the leader AD HOC.

It also recommends learning how to keep your dog in a “calm, submissive state.” They believe that the best way to bond properly with your dog is to use intimidating, dominating body language and training techniques.  I’m not personally keen on this trait.  If the dogs were trained to be attack dogs or for finding bodies, I think this would be the proper method.  Many modern behaviorists and trainers discourage teaching the concept of pack hierarchy in the home. This is due to many flaws in the studies from which the concepts were developed.  Even wolf behavior expert, David Mech, showed through several series of studies that there were problems with the observations from Schenkel and others’ research.

PAVLOV’s Slobbering Beasts

Now called “classical conditioning” or “Pavlovian conditioning.”, its significance to our understanding of dog behavior in general is that it led animal behaviorists to several distinct ideas. Conditioning dogs to relax comfortably in their bed or crate by associating the space with calm experiences, delicious treats and fun toys. Conditioning dogs to learn with the use of clickers and whistles by pairing these “marker” sounds with treats. Once a dog has been conditioned to learn with the use of a “marker,” trainers can capture and shape a wide range of unique behaviors and then pair them with a cue or command. Dogs that have behavioral problems such as traumatic fear or aggression can be somewhat “retrained”. This is done using “counter-conditioning” which re-associates negative triggers with positive experiences/rewards. But the way humans and animals learn is way more complex than this.

Skinner’s operant conditioning

Skinner conducted a series of experiments which revealed another way that animals learn; Pavlov wasn’t wrong, but he was just scratching the surface. Skinner’s method became known as “operant conditioning.”  The behavior of an animal (or human) can be “trained” by applying positive or negative stimuli after specific behaviors. The idea is that if a reward always comes after a certain behavior, the animal will repeat that behavior to earn the reward. The opposite is also expected. If some punishment happens after a certain behavior, the animal will avoid the behavior to avoid the punishment.

Here’s how we decided to apply operant conditioning to our plan. We know that in addition to instinctive and subconscious behavior, dogs also do things in order to earn/avoid reward or punishment. “Human has can opener.  Be nice to human and get contents.”, is a simplistic dog thought process.  But if we want our dog to act in a certain way, we can reward those behaviors with treats, toys, or affection. For example, let’s say we want our dog to sit for us to put his leash on him. We can train him to do so by giving him a treat every time he sits. We repeat the behavior/reward system every time we want them to go outside. This is positive reinforcement.

Skinner noted that if a dog experiences something negative after doing something, he will try to avoid that situation again. Such as when Dad would hit Milo on the nose with a newspaper if he chewed up something that got close to him.  This is positive punishment.  As I already wrote many pages before this one, I’m against the use of a newspaper unless it’s used on the owner.  Other forms of positive punishment would include the use of a stern voice.  I have our furry boys trained to run to the kitchen by only saying “KITCHEN” in a booming voice.  Once the get back to the kitchen, they get praised as “GOOD BOYS”.

There are flaws in all three theories, but there are some good points as well.  So, here’s the good bad and the ugly of the aforementioned:

Captive animals and wild animals don’t always act the same. The pack-mentality isn’t very well defined entirely with domestic animals.  We cannot assume that the behavior patterns of dogs mimic those of wolves.

Humans are not dogs. We cannot assume that dogs view us as a part of or a leader of their ‘pack.’

We cannot assume that pet dogs act the same as dogs (or other animals) in laboratory settings as was the case with many of the studies conducted in the 1800s and even the 1900s with Skinner.

Even within the domestic dog species, there is a wide range of personality traits and instincts from breed to breed and individual to individual.

It’s not scientifically reasonable to attribute human behavior traits to any animal, including dogs. 

But most experts DO agree, that dogs have adapted many behaviors unlike other wild animals as a result of living so closely with humans for so long.  They have adapted an extremely strong ability to observe and learn from gestures and verbal cues from humans – even more so than primates! Dogs are remarkable at copying behaviors from each other to learn new tasks.

Now that we’re much closer to Mickey and Goofy than ever before, they’ve taken on certain behaviors through observation.

1. I use a specific bowl that has never been washed with soap before to feed the hummingbirds. Mickey knows that I’m going to feed them and will be anxious to go outside when I get it down from the shelf. So, whenever I want Mickey to go outside and he’s being stubborn, instead of hiding under a cabinet, I reach for the bowl and he’s ready to go. I’ve also reinforced this habit by giving him a treat once he’s outside. (Observational behavior paired with positive reinforcement.)
2. Theres a door between the living room and dining room. The dogs are allowed 100% in the dining room/ kitchen area, but not always in the living room. If that door is open, they will stand in the doorway waiting for my signal to enter the room. “Come” is the simple command that they’ve both learned.
3. If I want them to go back to the kitchen area, 90% of the time all I have to do is say “Kitchen” and they both get up. If they’ve been fast asleep too long in the living room, then sometimes I’ll have to get up, nudge them a bit and “remind them” that they need to head back to their beds in the kitchen area. Once they’re out of lalaland, they understand well enough.
4. Goofy is the more unruly of the two. Sometimes he’ll sneak to the living room when he’s not supposed to. A sharp “HEY” in his general direction is enough to stop him in his tracks and to get him to pay attention. Then, “Kitchen” is enough for him to turn around.
5. Treat time. Although the feeding schedule hasn’t been perfectly on time, they are definitely ready for a treat and will call out to me if I’m not close enough to them when they’re ready. I think Mickey is the instigator, but Goofy plays along as well. Seeing as feedings are between 9AM and 6PM, they usually get a treat around 2PM. By 1:30PM, Mickey comes up to me and does this “dance”. He’s almost in a sitting position, but his rear-end is so happy that his lifts his bum off the ground and wags it emphatically. The first few times I didn’t know what he wanted, then I realized that I had been giving him his favorite treat religiously for nearly two weeks at the same time. That was a coincidence, that turned into a behavior. Goofy then started jumping over Mickey back and forth.
6. Fetch – this was never a problem for Mickey. He could do this tirelessly for hours, but Goofy isn’t much of a fan, until recently. At first, when we would throw the toy for Mickey, Goofy would run off and do other things. Then, one day he started chasing Mickey and once Mickey got the toy, Goofy would “catch” Mickey by grabbing him by the hind leg. Eventually, Goofy would also chase after the toy but would tire quickly and take the toy to hide it in spite of Mickey’s futile attempts at protest. Eventually Mickey would recover and it was game-on for another hour easily.
7. Shadow. Mickey shadows me now. As I type this, there he is at my feet. It’s like this for most of the day unless one of the boys want to play with him. He will rest there until I get up to do something. Even if it’s an 8-pace trip to the copier, he can’t stay put. Everyone jokes about our pets following us to the bathroom, but no one talks about their need to help us refill the toner.
8. The best behavior is couch-time. As they sit by the door in dining room waiting to come to the living room, once they’re in, they anxiously wait for me to allow them up on the couch. Interestingly enough, they won’t show a hint of excitement if Queen Sayira is there. But all she has to do is get up to fetch a blanket and they’re heeling at my feet ready to jump up. Goofy is the sweetest and will “slither” his way on to the couch and on to my lap. This is also a nightly event once my reports are done.

All this being said, I’m worried. All of these behaviors have been learned through observation and their freedom of expression through attention. If they did something that I didn’t want them to, I would instinctively (my instinct) sharply say “HEY” and they would stop and regroup. Anything that I found enjoyable or acceptable was allowed and reinforced with either treats or the commonly heard praise “Good Boy!”. Everything that they have learned, wasn’t so much due to intentional training or inherently innate trait. I’m worried that at some point, we’re all going to have to return to the old routine. Eventually, there won’t be a pandemic and although slowly and systematically, we will all go back to our old routines. That’s exactly what happened in the 1918 pandemic. The world was in a panic, millions died and still after everything was said and done, masks and health safety were again a thing of the past. The only way they will continue with these behaviors is if we continue our routine of being on total lockdown like we have been now for nearly 3 months. The experience for the dogs has been that of attention, freedom and love. There are many studies on dog anxiety and the effects of separation from owners. Other than “try not to be gone that long”, there really aren’t many remedies that offer a solution.

Apart from never changing back to the old routine, we’ll have to go through the process of re-retraining the both of them. There are few interesting tools and tricks that I did pick up on after scanning for articles and ideas.

1. Part of the plan will be to build a doggy door and train them to use that first. Once they get the hang of going out and coming in, the future will be brighter.
2. Toys and chew sticks to keep them busy and reduce anxiety.
3. Automatic treat dispensers or treat-dispensing toys. There’s a neat toy called the Bob-a-lot Interactive Dog Toy.
4. Then if you’re really in to techie stuff and the anxiety is more a problem that you have vs what your pets have, there’s this gem called the “PET-CUBE”

Oh hell, maybe if I just dedicate the rest of my life to writing, reading and gaining weight, I won’t have to worry about any of this. If you made it through this entire doggy monologue, I commend you and hope you found some value in it. So, the solution is final – I’m retiring once this mess is over with and dedicating the rest of my life to writing. I better start learning how to do that!! Could one of you start giving me treats when I write a good article?

Stay tuned for the regular news roundup in the next post …